But now, the time had come for me to protecthim.
If I didn’t fight for him, no one would.
And if we didn’t fight for the dozens—maybe hundreds—of others being stripped of their identities and turned into weapons, they’d be left to themselves, stuck in a nightmare of a life. This was much bigger than I. I knew that. I couldn’t let my own fear get in the way of that.
I reached up, fingertips brushing against the stubble on Ronan’s jaw. The contrast between this tenderness and the brutal efficiency I’d seen him capable of still startled me.
“I’m seeing this through,” I told him, my voice steadier than I felt. “Besides, someone needs to save your ass if things go sideways.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips.
“And if Brock gets in my way,” I continued, “I’ll put a bullet in him myself.”
At Brock’s name, something shifted in Ronan’s expression—the warmth draining away, replaced by something cold and empty. For a split second, I glimpsed theweapon Oblivion created, and it chilled me deeper than any threat.
Then it was gone, and he pulled me against him, mouth finding mine with desperate need. I melted into him, memorizing the feel of his body against mine, aware that this might be our last moment of connection. His hand cradled the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as if he could keep me anchored to him through sheer force of will.
Time slowed, stretched, compressed. Every point of contact between us burned with unspoken words. I wanted to tell him—
“If you two are finished with the goodbye scene,” Specter’s sardonic voice crackled through our earpieces, “we have a timeline to keep.”
Ronan pulled back, his breathing ragged. “Ninety seconds between camera sweeps,” he reminded me, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. “Remember which systems to disable first.”
“The cameras disguised as decorative lighting,” I finished for him. “Then the motion sensors, then the door locks.”
His eyes held mine. “If comms go down...”
“I make for the south exit in exactly fifteen minutes, not before, not after.”
He nodded once, sharp and efficient. Professional again, except for the lingering warmth in his gaze. His hand slid down my arm, fingers tangling with mine for one last moment before reluctantly releasing me.
“Go,” he whispered.
I turned away, my skin instantly cold where his touch had been. The ventilation shaft waited, partially concealed by ornamental palms. I moved toward it alone, leaving Ronan behind in our momentary sanctuary, determination and fear my only companions now.
I watched Ronan slide into position at the edge of our cover, his body tense with coiled energy. He raised three fingers, eyes locked on his watch.
“Three,” he whispered. “Two. One.”
My muscles tightened, ready to spring.
“Now.”
I bolted from our hiding place, keeping low as I sprinted across the exposed ground. Each footfall felt thunderous in my ears despite my efforts to step lightly.
I reached the concealing bush, dropping to my knees beside the ventilation trap. My fingers found the edges, feeling for the release mechanism Specter had described.
“Forty seconds,” Ronan’s voice crackled in my ear.
I located the hidden catch, pressing it firmly. The grate gave way with surprising ease, revealing a square of absolute darkness. My stomach tightened. The opening looked even smaller up close, a claustrophobe’s nightmare.
“Thirty seconds.”
I pulled myself up, wedging my shoulders through the opening first. The metal frame scraped against my back through the thin fabric of my shirt. For one panicked moment, I thought I might get stuck, but I twisted my body sideways and slipped through.
“Ten seconds. You need to replace the grate.”
My hands fumbled in the darkness, finding the edges of the covering. I clicked it back into place, hearing a soft click as it locked. I was committed now.
