Page 148 of GlitchBorn Heart

I freeze, slowly looking up at him. “Great.”

His laugh turns unhinged. “Relax. Probably just marketing.”

I push the bottle away with two fingers. “I work for a corporation that can rewrite reality, and this is the best water they can make?” I gesture at the bottle of sludge.

He snorts, snatches the bottle, and takes a long swig. “Suit yourself. More battery juice for me.”

He gulps. “You know what the real magic is? You survived everything that was supposed to break you and just called it discipline. That’s admirable.” He sets the bottle down on the console. Bile rises in my throat just looking at it.

“You’re a CoreCaster.”

“I’m not.” The denial leaves my lips so fast it seethes. “Wait a what?!” I squint at him.

Ash smirks, but there’s no humor there. “Kael, you were just bending and creating code like it owed you rent. That’s not normal programming. That’s magic, Bro. I knew you had it in you.”

I slam my palm against the console, hard enough to make the screens stutter. “You think I don’t know that?” I flip around tossing my head back, breathing in all the oxygen around me. “By the way, thanks for telling me...oh, I don’t know...for like ten years or so?”

He’s neither accepting nor denying the statement. “So, what comes next? What’s the plan? This certainly levels you up, man! Like you’re boss level now.”

I drag a hand through my hair, still feeling the phantom sting of her hand on mine. “This is not a GameNet session,” I say slowly, “The plan is to get her out before LINK erases her or Eli deletes her and before Vikktor finds out about her.”

Ash’s brows lift. “Easy peasy. You always did like to make things complicated. You know, if you just...”

“Don’t.” My voice drops an octave, out of frustration. “Not another joke.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, but he’s laughing again, that cocky smile he uses to defuse awkward situations. “Alright. But you’re glowing again. Neon veins, ink flaring, dragon eyes. Spooky shit. If you don’t want people to freak out, at least own it and tame it.”

I breathe hard through my nose, trying to swallow the inferno building in my chest. “I’ll own it when she’s safe.”

Ash whistles low. “Guess we’re past the ‘Lyra and I are just friends’ phase then.”

“Way past.” My hands curl into fists. “Now help me rethink the plan for her extraction before she disappears for good. We need to speed things up.”

Ember’s comm pings. She touches it gently to speak. “Now?” A pause. “Yes, Father.”

She looks at me with those helpless doe eyes as she approaches. “Um...my father wants to see you in his office, ASAP.” She bites her lip nervously.

Not good.

Ash and I both look at each other, our mouths dropping in disgust. For once he doesn’t know what to say. I adjust my shirt, covering most of my ink, put myself back together, and grab my jacket off the chair. The faintest burst of orange flickers in the symbols on my fingers before I take a breath and force it down.

Tame it.

Ash lounges against the console like this is just another day at the office, one eyebrow cocked. “Hey, Glowworm! Maybe get that radioactive rave stuff under control before Daddy Dearest sees it. Yeah?”

I freeze just long enough to pin him with a look sharp enough to slice his throat.

Ash smirks wider, undeterred. “Don’t get me wrong, the neon veins are a hell of a party trick. But Vikktor sees that, and we’re all fucked with a capital F.”

I exhale through my nose, steadying myself, tamping down the angst under my skin. I head toward the elevator, readying myself for war.

The elevator ride is silent except for the buzz of neon bleeding through the ceiling tiles. My reflection stares back at me in the chrome panels, I’m still faintly pulsing from the magic being drawn out of me. I shove it down again to the depths with a quick inhale. I can’t let anyone see it.

Not yet.

Vikktor’s office looms like a temple of excess: obsidian walls, sprawling windows that make the city look small, and a desk so pristine it might as well be an altar. He’s standing in front of it when I enter, his tailored suit so crisp it looks like he’s carved of stone. His tie is knotted with elite precision.

I lock onto his stare; steel gray eyes assess me, full of detached superiority. He’s silently asserting his dominance. They instantly bore into me.