Page 102 of Last of Her Name

“What?” I look up—but Clio is gone.

Of course she is, I tell myself, even as my heart sinks.

She wasn’t there to begin with. She was just a shadow cast by my overtired, overstressed brain. But the strength she gave me is real. I can still feel it, coiled like a lion between my ribs.

Looking back at the transmitter, I turn on the screen and hold my breath.

This is the moment of truth. Either my tinkering worked, or we’re all dead.

The screen flickers on and displays a loading gauge and the wordCalibrating …

I stifle a curse.

I won’t know if my hack worked until the calibration is finished. Which means I have to stall before they can kill my friends.

Rising to my feet and snapping my multicuff back on my wrist, I shout, “Alexei Volkov!”

He turns, eyes narrowing. Riyan and Mara are lying flat on the ground, held in place by Natalya’s stress field. Pol is on his knees, grimacing as Volkov grips him by one of his horns and presses a gun to his temple.

An unstoppable wave rises in me, higher and higher, water beginning to break. That wave is my fury, a snarling, blazing tangle of teeth and fangs. Barely holding it back, I square my shoulders and lift my chin. The transmitter is hot against my palm.

“Enough of this,” I say, surprised at the firmness of my voice. My knees are still wobbly, but he can’t see that. “Stop hurting them. This is between you and me.”

Volkov’s eyes flick with annoyance. “If you think you’re in a position to make demands, Princess, then you’re deluded.”

“Maybe I am,” I snarl, “but I amnotbroken.”

“Then prove it. Press that button. Show me you can rule the stars.”

I glance at the transmitter. It’s at 30 percent calibration.

Looking back at Volkov, I shake my head. “If ruling means making these choices, destroying lives as if they were pieces on your game board, then I don’t want to rule. Not if it means turning intoyou.”

He narrows his eyes. “I told you, I only—”

“You only want to be a hero, yeah, I know. I know all about you. But you’re no hero,Alexei. You just murdered twenty people. Does that sound heroic? You’d murder my friends and torture me. You’d wipe out half of humanity just to make yourself feel important. But you know who wasreallyimportant? My father, Pyotr Leonov. He knew what you were, and he knew it was better to die than surrender to you.”

Dark fury rises in the direktor’s eyes. I’ve touched a nerve.

The transmitter calibration is at 50 percent.

I press harder.

“He trusted you, and you betrayed that trust. You betrayedeveryone.You caused the deaths of my family in this very room. You obliterated anyone who threatened you. And despite all that, youstilllost, because a few brave people managed to smuggle me away from you. They hid me for sixteen years. But I’m done hiding.”

Seventy percent.

He drives the barrel of his gun harder into Pol’s temple. Pol winces but doesn’t make a sound, his eyes locking on mine. Trusting me.

“Are you?” asks Volkov, his eyes sharpening with interest. “Are you really?”

“Isn’t that what you want to hear?” I ask. “Stacia Androva is dead. There. I’ve said it.”

Ninety percent.

I need fifteen more seconds.

I draw a breath, and look him in the eyes.