Page 171 of Victorious

The driver’s side door hung open, the hazard lights on but the engine off. The keys still hung in the ignition, but there was no one behind the wheel.

The agent touched their comm and said, “It’s empty.”

“Copy,” said the driver. “Get it out of the wa—”

Two things happened, then, in quick succession.

The agent leaned in and turned the key, triggering the generous block of C4 June had strapped to the roadster’s undercarriage. The blast not only blew the car—and the agent—to pieces but was strong enough to rock the armored van a dozen yards away. As it tipped, and righted, a smoke bomb tumbled through the open passenger door, filling the front cab and blinding the driver to the presence of another person, and a gun.

June fired, painting the window behind him red as the agents in the back of the van sprang into action.

The rear door swung open, two more spilling out as June rounded the corner.

To their credit, they were fast as well as armed. And unlike the two in the front seat, they had the sense to keep their helmets on. June’s bullets ricocheted against the reinforced visors before one shot her in the chest.

She stumbled, swapping bodies before the first one died, and drawing a serrated knife. She darted forward, slipping in beneath the agent’s guard before they could get off a second shot, and fit the blade into the crook just beneath the helmet’s chin, carving quick and deep.

The other agent started shooting as the first one slumped, but she held the body up, the corpse shield absorbing the damage until she heard the telltale click of an empty magazine. She dropped the body, crouching with it, before bringing the blade up behind the agent’s armor.

Driving it deep into their chest.

June stood, winded from the effort, her borrowed body—a soldier’s—flecked with blood. The whole thing, start to finish, had taken less than a minute. Not bad.

She turned toward the rear doors, and saw Sydney’s small form, curled on her side at the far end, her back to June. She was strapped to the bench, blindfolded and hands bound, an IV running into her wrist.

But she was there. And so was June. And everything would be okay.

She traded the soldier’s body for one of hers—not hers, of course, but one of the dozen she defaulted back to, favored because they reminded her in some way of her own. Auburn hair in dark-wash jeans. A body Sydney had seen before. One she’d recognize, and trust.

“Hey, kiddo,” she murmured, climbing up into the transport. She knelt in front of Syd, unclipping the IV. Undoing the straps. “Let’s get out of here.”

Sydney had grown a little, limbs longer than they’d been, blond hair now below her shoulders. Three years was a long time, June thought, before remembering, three years was nothing to a girl like Syd. She frowned, reaching for the blindfold as her phone began to ring. Victor. Interrupting their moment.

June answered. “I’ve got her.”

Victor wasn’t a man of outward emotion, but she swore she could hear a world of relief in his exhale.

“Good. Send me your location.”

June hesitated. All this time, he’d known where Sydney was. He’d kept it from her. Now, June would be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to do the same. But Syd wasn’t a flag in a game, something to be stolen. If she wanted to come with June, that was one thing, but she wouldn’t force her. Not again.

“June,” he warned.

“I’m doing it,” she said, sending him a pin as the girl on the bench began to stir, rolling over in her sleep. June reached out and steadied her before she tumbled off the bench. As she did, she tugged the blindfold off.

And froze.

“Victor,” she said. “We have a problem.”

June looked down at the girl, still drugged, but stirring, eyes beginning to shift beneath the thin surface of their lids. She had Sydney’s blond hair. Her heart-shaped face. But it wasn’t her. June blinked, then drew back as understanding hit her.

Sydney had spoken more than once about her older sister.

The one she worshipped, idolized. The one June, in some ways, had replaced, stepping into the vacant role because the original was dead.

June dragged the name out of her memory.

Serena.