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The nurse leads me to the farthest corner of the room, watching me like a hawk. I try to keep my walk as steady as possible, praying she won’t make me return to bed.

Shesits me down on one of the blue plastic chairs, my back to the rest of the room.

“A little privacy,” she smiles. This close, I notice details that catch like thorns—blonde hair pulled back so severely it must hurt, high cheekbones, striking blue eyes. She has the kind of beauty that belongs on magazine covers.

She puts a probe on my fingertip and then wraps the blood pressure cuff around my uninjured arm.

“I’m Kat,” she says under her breath.

At first, I simply nod. And then recognition slams into me and I rear back, my eyes flaring as I meet her knowing gaze.

Kat.

At the Black Hills, Cade told Scar to take Kat and go somewhere.

Kat works with Cade.

And Scar.

“What the hell—”

“Breathe, Luna,” she adjusts the cuff. A crack appears in her perfect posture as she glances over her shoulder. “They can’t know who I am, but I had to see you.”

“How did you know where he was taken, or even make it past security?” I hiss.

She shoots me an insulted look, and then as if remembering why she’s here, sighs. “I’m sorry. I . . .” She clears her throat. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

The look on her face isn’t empathy, though. It’s regret.

“What are you sorry for?”

She shrugs as she pretends to copy out the figures on the monitor. “I should have seen it coming. Actually, I did see it coming. I just . . . God, I was stupid.”

My brows fly up. “You knew Scar was going to hurt Cade?”

“No.” She studies me for a beat, like one might a lab specimen, then takes a breath. “Not Cade. You.”

At my shock, she explains. “Scar called last night . . . he went on about you and Cade: how Cade looks at you, speaks to you, worships you . . .” She swallows hard. “I managed to talk him off the ledge last night. But this morning, I couldn’t reach him, so I called Cade.”

Now the silent call makes sense. “You called Nico, pretending to be me.”

She presses a button, and the cuff tightens around my arm again, matching the pressure in my chest. “When I heard you on the phone,” she shudders, “I knew the worst had happened. I just . . . I’m glad the rescue team showed up quickly.”

She doesn’t seem particularly glad. Actually, she looks more pissed than anything.Because it was Cade who got stabbed instead of me?

Kat studies me again for long moments as if debating her next words.

“I knew Cade was self-destructing, but—”

I rear back. “Self-destructing? That’s what you call falling in love?”

Kat meets my gaze head-on. “In his line of work, yes.”

Her voice drops to a whisper. “Look. I figured Cade wasn’t a government agent. It takes a much darker mind to employ people like Scar and me, both of whom are supposed to be dead.”

“You know about his other—”

“Private work?” Kat tilts her head. “Oh, absolutely. That kind of life double life doesn’t leave room for error. And in the last few months, Cade’s been like a drunk man walking a tightrope. Because of you.”