“Yeah.” I sighed, feeling an ache begin in my chest. “I could see how you would think that. You did save my life once. Only fitting that you should correct that mistake.”

Her eyes narrowed a bit, but that was all. “How did you know I was coming?”

I gave a small snort. “You know me better than that,” I said, grateful that, for all their lethality, Vipers did not have the same skill set I did. Or the paranoia that came with being a Basilisk. The hidden camera pointed down the hallway was synced to my phone, set to alert me whenever there was movement outside. It was annoying to be woken up by every drunk shambling down the hall at three in the morning, but a few hours’ sleep was a small price to pay when it came to this.

Stealth didn’t press the question, standing calmly with her hands at her sides, still gripping the dagger. “Are you going to shoot me, Agent Cobalt?”

“Not unless I have to.”

Her jaw tightened. “If you don’t,” she warned, “I’m only going to come after you again. You know that, right? We were colleagues at one point, and I respected you, Cobalt. I still do, so consider this your only warning. Next time, there will be no words.”

I nodded tiredly. “I know.” This was a courtesy call. A formality between two agents who had fought on the same team. Once I left the room, that civility ended. The next time I saw Stealth, one of us had to die.

The Viper’s lips thinned and, for the first time, a hint of anger crossed her cool face. “Why did you do it, Cobalt?” she asked in a harsh whisper. “You had just succeeded Blackscale. You were on your way up. There were even rumors that the Chief Basilisk wanted to make you his second. Why did you throw all that away?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” I told her, and she wouldn’t. The Vipers were trained for ruthlessness, to take lives without question. I knew Stealth; if Talon told her to slit the throat of a seven-year-old human girl, she wouldn’t even blink. “And it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

Stealth shook her head. “No,” she whispered, and I heard the resolve in her voice, the knowledge that when we did meet again, she was going to kill me. “I guess it doesn’t.”

I swallowed hard and gestured at her with the gun. “The knife,” I ordered, my voice firm. “Toss it to me, now.” This might be a courtesy call, but there was no way I was letting an armed assassin follow me out of the room. I might not make it to the parking lot.

Without argument, Stealth flipped the blade in her hand and arced it toward me over the bed. It hit the edge of the mattress right in front of me, hilt up, and I grabbed the blade without taking my eyes from her.

“You’ll never escape us.” The Viper’s voice was quiet, matter-of-fact. “Even if you kill me, someone else will take my place. Talon will never let you go, and sooner or later, we’re going to catch up. You’re living on borrowed time, Cobalt.”

Ice settled in my gut, but I sheathed the knife at my belt and gave her a half smile. “You don’t have to parrot the monologue at me, Stealth,” I said. “I was part of Talon just as long as you. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

“Go, then.” The Viper eased a few steps aside, away from the door. “Run, traitor. I won’t be far behind.”

Keeping the pistol trained on her, I slid around the bed and edged toward the exit. Stealth didn’t move, only watched me with flat, expressionless eyes, as I pushed back the door and left the room.

The second I stepped through the frame, I began to run.

Ember

Made it.

The taxi pulled up to the curb, and I scrambled to the sidewalk and raised my head to bask in the artificial glow. I’d never been so relieved to see the bright neon lights of the Strip and the crowds wandering the streets in the middle of the night. Light meant visibility, and crowds meant lots of witnesses, and no matter how much they hated us, the Order of St. George was just as secretive and paranoid of discovery as Talon. They preferred to do their killing in dark alleys and abandoned buildings, where they could murder us in peace without having to worry about silly things like questions or the law. They would not risk gunning us down in the middle of a busy street.

At least, I hoped they wouldn’t.

“Stay alert,” Garret warned as the taxi cruised off after leaving us on the curb. Every bit of him was tense, gray eyes sweeping the crowds and sidewalks, constantly on edge. “The Order could still be here.” Faith whimpered and edged close to him, clutching his shirtsleeve. Annoyance flared, sudden and unreasonable, but Garret didn’t react to the girl’s pawing. “Keep calm,” he said without looking at her. “If you’re scared, you’ll be easy to notice. Try to act like nothing is wrong.”

“Easy for him to say,” Faith whispered to me. In the glow of the street lamps, she was pale and thin, with dark smudges beneath her eyes, and my irritation faded somewhat. Poor kid wasn’t trying to be overly clingy; she really was terrified.

“You’ll be fine,” I told her, as Garret motioned us toward the hotel. “We won’t let anything happen to you. Just stay close to us.”

Cautiously, we ambled toward the entrance. Okay, so maybe ambled wasn’t the right word; Faith was way too frightened to act normal, and her casual walk was more of a rigid march, eyes glued straight ahead. As we neared the doors, Garret casually reached down and took my hand, lacing our fingers together and making a knot form in my stomach. I stared up at him, and he offered a smile, squeezing my palm. I relaxed, even managing to smile at the bellboy who opened the door for us, like we were just three ordinary humans here for a good time. Faith, having relinquished her grip on Garret’s shirt, glued herself to my other side and clung to my arm as we swept through the doors into the relative safety of the hotel.