“Okay, so you have me now. Good job, G.I. G-man. What’s next?” As in, how would I survive this?
“I always had you, and I’m not with the military or the government.”
“Then who are you with? How do I know you’re one of the good guys?”
“You don’t. And I’m not good or bad. I do what’s necessary. Not everyone in my organization believes this tech is dangerous, and ever fewer understand it, but this is a global security threat of a kind we’ve never faced before.” The impassive set of his features twisted, just a little. But on him, the expression was equal to a shrieking horde of Legendelirium’s dawn demons. “I’m going to get what I came for, but if I can keep you alive, I will.”
“Just take the stupid moths. I never asked for this. I don’t want to shoot purple lightning out of my fingers. I just want to go back to my job, which I lost, thanks to you.” To my disgust, my breath hitched and the fancy car went blurry through my tears. “I just want to go home.”
“Ms. Taylor…” Dane’s tone shifted, turning wary.
“Brayden isdeadbecause of this. He might’ve fucked up, but he didn’t deserve to getmurdered. And you couldn’t savehim, so I doubt you’ll saveme.” I shivered in the blasting air through the vents. “I bet Alling would take the moths back.”
“Greg Alling?” Dane leaned back in his seat. “He recklessly lost the nanotech to Brayden. Why would you trust him?”
I stammered. “I don’t. But if these moths belong to BantaMatrix, Alling is more likely to know how to get them out of me than you are.”
He was shaking his head. “This is uncharted territory, Ms. Taylor. BantaMatrix was supposedly years away from production, let alonehuman trials. And yet here you are.”
And yet… Alling’s questions had been sharper than Dane’s glares, and he’d been super keen on the BantaMatrix staff doc seeing my hand. But I kept that lil nugget to myself.
Pulling my feet up onto the seat—didn’t even care about the leather—I wrapped my arms around my knees, tucking my left hand down against my throat. “Did you hunt me down just to tell me everything is horrible and fucked? Cuz I didn’t need you for that.”
“There’s more at stake here, Ms. Taylor, than your bad day.” For once, his gray eyes weren’t angry or judgmental or threatening. But somehow this slightly uncertain look was worse. “Imagine a weapon that can’t be sensed by anything we have today, disguised as a person, walking among us, unnoticed. Until it’s too late.”
So he thought I was unnoticeable? Good to know. Somehow, that mild insult got my feet back underneath me. Not literally. I was still hugging my knees. “Why don’t you just eliminate the threat? Eliminate me.”
“If I were going to kill you, I’d’ve done it already.” His growl was back in its full glory. Kinda reassuring, actually. “But the threat wouldn’t end with you. You might be the first, but you won’t be the last.” His cold glare pierced me. “The technology is here to stay.”
My whole body itched and burned like the infection was spreading outward from my wounded hand. “So what then? I go into hiding?”
“Has running away ever fixed anything?”
“It’s worked great for me,” I snapped. Which was a total lie. But sometimes the lies I told myself were the only thing besides caffeine and sugar that kept me going. “So? What’s your plan?”
His jaw worked side to side for a moment. “We need to understand how this works. The moths. The glove. Your hand.” He glanced over. “And I have to say, you don’t look well, Imogen.”
“Seriously?” I brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face. “I’m going on two days of no sleep, been running for my life and terrified out of my mind, got fuckin’ moths coursing through my veins.”
Moths were ugly brown, not purple. These things inside me were more like butterflies.
“Excellent points. You need rest and a good meal. And where we’re going, you can get both. And while you’re doing that, I’ll take a look at this glove. Maybe get some blood work done on you.”
Needles. Damn. “And then?”
“We need to identify the interested parties and shut down their avenues of inquiry. And then…” His expression went blank again. “And then we’ll take care of your bug problem.”
I didn’t trust him. I couldn’t, not when he said things like “take care of your bug problem.” I watched enough movies to know what “take care of” meant. I might lie to myself on the regular, but even I wasn’t stupid enough to think that when he saidwehe meanthim and me. But apparently, at least for now, he needed me alive.
I put my sneakers flat on the floor again. My stomach churned—like I’d swallowed a multitude of microscopic moths. “A million dollars.”
He slanted a glance at me. “Excuse me?”
I lifted my chin. “To do all that bullshit, G.I. G-Man. I’ll be your purple bait”—because I knew that was what he was angling for with hisinterested parties—“for a million dollars.”
His slow blink would’ve been funny if I didn’t know this was life or death. Specifically,mylife or death. “And where am I getting all this money?”
I shrugged. “Cutting-edge technology. Global security threat.” I waved one hand—my left. “As important as I am, I’m surewecan find it somewhere.” With one fingertip, I made a little checkmark in the air. “Budget line item: one million dollars to our cute, weaponized butterfly witch, payable to her mother in the event of her unfortunate and untimely death.”
