Page 22 of Villainous Intent

“That doesn’t make it not true.”

I’d been ten. I’d grabbed his hand because it was the only thing in that house that wasn’t trying to kill me, and I hadn’t known how to let go, and by the time somebody pried my fingers loose I’d taken something I had no right to and left the rest of it in pieces.

He crossed the office and put his hands on my shoulders.

“You don’t apologize for that,” he said. “You don’t apologize for surviving. Not to me. Not to them.”

I nodded, because nodding was faster than arguing.

He’d been telling me the same thing since I was eleven. I had never once believed him.

“You can say no,” he said. “Whatever they ask you to do, you can say no.”

“I know.”

“You won’t.”

“I know.”

The pen on his desk gave a faint rattle against the wood. He let out a breath and dragged a hand down his face. “One of these days I’d like you to surprise me.”

“You’d hate it. You don’t like surprises.”

The corner of his mouth moved. Barely. It was still something.

A chime echoed through the office. My stomach pulled into a knot and stayed there.

Havoc pushed my hair back off my forehead and pressed a quick kiss there, the same as he had before every hearing, every evaluation, every meeting where somebody in an expensive suit talked about me in the third person while I sat in the room.

“It will be okay, Annie.”

I nodded even though I didn’t believe him.

I straightened my shoulders and tried to look like a woman who wasn’t already saying yes to a question she hadn’t heard yet.

“Are you ready?” Havoc asked.

“No,” I admitted softly. “But I never am when it comes to them.”

He pressed the button. The screen on the wall came to life as the call connected.

CHAPTER 6

CIPHER

The Labyrinth recognized me immediately. The black walls illuminated with subtle blue light as I stepped inside, the system coming online at my presence.

“Initiate suit-up sequence,” I commanded, shrugging out of my suit jacket. The wall panels slid open as I walked, mechanical arms extending to collect each piece of clothing as I shed the civilian costume. I continued forward at a measured pace, not breaking stride as I unbuttoned my shirt.

Annie Bishop. Keeper. Dawn’s roommate.

I stepped onto the designated platform and sensors mapped my body using the linear tattoos on my skin.

She recognized me immediately. By smile. That was fucking interesting.

“Full armor configuration,” I instructed. The undersuit came first, flowing across my skin before hardening into place.

I waited as the familiar weight of each piece of armor settled comfortably against me. The mask was last, sliding over my face.