Page 173 of Villainous Intent

Love transformed them, redeemed them, made them better. But that wasn’t real. That was never real.

I couldn’t even be angry with him for it. He’d never promised me anything different. He’d never pretended to be something he wasn’t. From the beginning, he’d been clear about what he wanted, what he could offer. No strings attached. No future. Just this moment.

It was exactly what I’d said I wanted too.

“Would you like to end our arrangement?” Cipher was watching me, his face unreadable as he powered down the diagnostic machine.

I should say yes. Every logical part of my brain screamed that I should end this now, before it got more complicated, before more people died, before I lost myself in whatever this was between us. This was the moment to walk away, to return to the safety of rules and structure and everything that made sense.

But the thought of ending it, of never feeling his hands on my skin again, never hearing his voice in my ear, never experiencing that perfect moment when everything else fell away, sent a wave of panic through me.

“No. I don’t want to end it.”

“Good,” he said simply, his voice betraying nothing of what he might be feeling. “Do I get a better explanation of your extra sense? Or how the hell you absorbed a power?”

“No,” I said firmly. “You don’t.”

He leaned forward, his expression suddenly sharp with interest. “You aren’t concerned with me not giving you peace if I don’t get a better answer?”

“Since when have I known peace with you anyway?” I shot back, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

Cipher’s mouth quirked up at one corner, a flash of genuine amusement crossing his face. “Touché, Sparks.”

A soft ping sounded from his workstation and he glanced at the message.

“I have work to get to,” he said, already turning toward his computer. “Challengers chomping at the bit to get to me at the moment. They think I’m weakened after last night.”

I nodded, feeling awkward and out of place in his lab. “I should go, then.”

Cipher looked up from his screen, that predatory gleam returning to his eyes. “It’s cute how you think you’re just going to walk out of my lair without repercussions.”

I stared at him, trying to read his expression. “What?”

“You’re a prisoner, Bishop,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “It’s only fair for the audacity of walking into the Labyrinth uninvited.”

My mouth fell open. “Are you serious right now?”

The thunk of the lock clicking into place on the lab door was my response.

CHAPTER 35

CIPHER

My pulse thrummed with an erratic rhythm over the terrifying gamble I had just taken. I had handed her the key to her own cage just to see if she would use it, desperate for her to validate my possessive madness by refusing to leave.

But she had hesitated. For one agonizing second, I thought she was going to end our arrangement.

“You’re remarkably passive for a prisoner,” I commented, adjusting my grip on her thighs. “I prefer when you fight.”

For someone who’d given me such fierce resistance any other time, this docile compliance was almost disappointing. She remained perfectly still, her breathing steady against my back.

“Cat got your tongue?” I asked, unable to resist baiting her.

“Fuck you,” she replied, but the words lacked any real bite.

I carried her into my bedroom and deposited her onto the center of the mattress. She just sat there, watching me. I could tell she was thinking and I was pretty sure she was caught up on what I’d said about feelings in the lab. But the conversation was over, there was nothing left to say. She was just going to drive herself mad thinking about it.

It didn’t matter right now anyway. I needed to suit up. The notification queue on my interface was flooded with requests for street clashes. Even the Alliance was formally requesting I make an appearance so their Heroes could dole out some highly televised “justice” against me for the twenty-seven bodies I’d dropped. The public demanded a spectacle, and I’d give them one.