“When?” I interrupt him. “When will you be here?”

“Two days, OK? Just hang in there for two more days and I’ll explain. But for now, Harp, please—listen to Vincent. Give him a chance and let him take care of things. Just relax. You’re safer now than ever before. You’re safer with him than with your own father. OK?”

“OK,” I say just to answer him. But he takes that as the end of our conversation and hangs up. The traffic noise cuts off and is replaced by silence.

I just stare at the phone.

My brother just called me. Remember it all, Harper. Remember it all. Tet is brainwashed. Tet is dangerous. Tet is on a mission. Vincent is good. Nick will be here in two days.

Sister.

That’s the only word that counts.

I hang the phone up and practically collapse back into the pillows. Which parts are true? Which of the things he just told me are true and which are a cover for whatever it is he’s planning?

I look over at the phone and sit up in bed with an idea. I can call James myself. I have his number. I reach for the receiver when there’s a knock on the door.

Fuck. “Yes?”

It opens tentatively and Vincent peeks his head through. “I heard the phone. Who was that?”

“Nick,” I say, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Vincent eyes them for a moment before meeting my gaze. “He said you called him last night.”

Vincent opens the door all the way and comes inside, closing it behind him. He smiles at me as he walks over to the bed and takes a seat. He sits close enough that our legs touch. “I did. I’m worried about you. I’m worried about Tet’s influence on you. I’m worried about what he told you.”

“Told me about what?”

“Anything. Everything. Everything he says is a lie, Harper. Everything. He can’t help it. His life is all about lies. Lies keep him alive. He’s nothing but the product of a dozen years of lies and secrets. He’s killed hundreds of people. He’s overthrown governments. He killed his own brother, for fuck’s sake, Harper. That’s got to bother you. Even if you think he had a good reason.”

I start to say something, but I stop with my mouth hanging open. It makes me appear stunned instead of on the verge of defending him.

“I know,” Vincent says, “it’s horrific. It’s horrible what they had him do. But Harper, he chose that life. You have to understand this.”

“And you chose this one,” I say flatly.

“I didn’t choose. He did. He chose for me by choosing to be Six. I was always the control—”

“Wait. Control. Is that your code?”

“Code?” He looks at me funny.

“Your code. You know, from the Company.”

“I don’t know why you’re talking about. I don’t have any code.”

Right. Secrets. But control. It’s both a noun and a verb. And the way Vincent used it, it sort of means—

“Harper?” he growls. “Are you listening to me?”

Come can be a noun and a verb too, but—I have a private chuckle—the only noun it can be is semen. “I’m listening.”

“What did Nick say?”

I eye him suspiciously. “You know what he said. You practically told him to call me and tell me these things.”

“I told him to call you. That I was worried about Tet’s influence. And I had every right to be worried, because yesterday, just before you called him, he tried to kill Nick by blowing up a cabin they were in.”

I look away. “What?” He was with Nick? “Why would he do that?”

“He doesn’t need a reason why, Harper. He’s a cold-blooded killer.”

We’re all cold out here.

“—he’s insane. He’s got some secret vendetta programmed into him from years ago and he’s acting it out. He failed his last psych evaluation. After he killed his brother, he failed his psych exam. They had a hit out on him—”

“What?”

“Yeah. They had a hit out on him, but the assassin got cold feet. If she had done her job—”

She?

“—we wouldn’t all be so fucking paranoid right now.”

“The Company has a female assassin?”

Vincent laughs. “That’s your question? After what I just told you? That’s your question?”

“Who is this assassin?”

“Me,” a soft voice replies from the now open bedroom door. A young woman, probably the same age as me, walks into the room. Her hair is dark and long and her eyes are a brilliant green. “I’m the assassin sent to kill James.”

“And who are you?” I ask, my irritation clear.

“Vincent’s sister.”

I look at Vincent. “She’s James’ missing sister? The one he thinks was kidnapped?”

Vincent sighs, his head shaking slightly. Like he’s tried of explaining things to me. Or maybe more accurately, tired of having to explain the things James has been telling me. “Harper, may I introduce my sister, Nicola. This is Harper Tate.”

“Pleased,” she says in a snooty way that makes me want to punch her in the face. “Tet knows where I am. Or rather, where I was. I met him several times growing up. We spent a few holidays together after I was… sent away. And I spent my first six years as his sister instead of Vincent’s. But unfortunately, Tet’s memory—” She replaces her words with a look of sadness and a slight shake of her head. “His memory is so muddled these days, he has no idea what’s up or down.”