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I don’t even cut my eyes to meet his. I can’t afford to look away from what I’m doing right now, and he knows it. And the fact that he knows it suddenly makes the hairs on my nape stand on end.
I’m alone. Jacob, AX1, and most of the others are fighting. Welsh and Simon are headed for wherever the false president is holed up. In this room, it’s just me and Dr. Green, and Jack—who can’t fucking move.
I swallow hard, but my mouth has gone dry. I try to work a little faster. “I’ve already thought about it, and I’m good.”
“I don’t think you have,” Dr. Green continues, and I can hear him—feel him—steadily moving closer. “AX23 is our last chance to get out of this with some power. You’ve neutered the others, but this one…this onecould still be useful. I know you—you don’t want to do this. You want power just as badly as I do.”
Sweat drips into my eyebrows, stops there momentarily, then falls into my eyes. I blink, and come away with some on my lashes. “Thisboyisn’t a weapon to use for power. He’s aperson.We got this so wrong.”
“Please. You’ve always known they were more men than machines.” Closer, closer. Closer still. I think about screaming, but if in the ensuing violence Jack moves his head… “No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, a part of you has always known the scope of what we were doing—and look what we’ve accomplished. It isn’t too late to hold onto it, Adelaide. You just have to put… down… the blade.”
This time, I don’t answer. I’m too focused on lifting up a flap of tissue to access the chip underneath. Without looking, I grab my clamp.
“Stop thinking with your goddamn ovaries for a second andlisten to me!” Green hisses, and this time, he’s close enough I know I could reach out and touch him. “These machines, these soldiers—they owe their entire existence to us!”
“Back off, doc,” Jack warns, but there’s emptiness behind it. Everyone in this room knows there’s nothing he can do.
“Don’t move,” I whisper again to Jack. I’m almost there. Almost done. “Dr. Green, please, step away from my patient.”
A metallic slide drives my heart up into my throat, and Dr. Green snarls, “I’m not going to let you ruin this for me. Not again.”
“Dr. Thompson,” Jack says, voice thin, and I know what he leaves unspoken—that I should run. That I should move. That I should do anything at all to save myself.
But I can’t. Because I owe him. Because I promised that I’d fix the mess I made.
Because life isn’t worth living if I can’t undo at least a little of what I’ve done.
There—I’ve got it! I’m sliding the chip out, and I’ve got enough confidence now to look at Dr. Green—to watch his face contort into a mask of pure hatred, eyes flat and black, nothing human lurking behind them. The muscles in his neck bulge, shoulder working back, and then forward in one swift, lethal strike.
Right into my side.
I am instantly cold, and the world goes quiet around me, like I’ve plunged into a sea of ice water. The blade withdraws, then plunges again into the same spot. None of it hurts. Shouldn’t it hurt?
Far away, very far away, Jacob roars. Our bond wrenches. But he’s all right; it’s only anguish. Only loss.
He’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.
The ground is hard beneath me, but it feels better to lie down. There’s a scuffle, some kind of struggle happening over me, but it doesn’t last. And then Jack is kneeling over me, pulling at my shirt, trying to see where I’ve been stabbed, how deep, how bad. His fingers are slick with blood. Not all of it belongs to me.
“Tell Jacob,” I say, lips sluggish, voice hoarse. He’s putting pressure on my side, so much that it’s forcing the air out of my lungs. “Tell him… it’s okay. Tell him he’s got to… find another, another mate, before… before this kills him too.”
“Shut up,” Jack snaps, tearing off a strip of his shirt to try to pack my wound. “You’re going to be fine. Shit, just… don’t move.” He looks up and bellows, “Somebody help!”
“It’s okay,” I murmur again as color drains from the world. “It’s all right. It… It doesn’t even hurt anymore…”
Nothing hurts anymore. And nothing ever will again.
Darkness embraces me, and I go willingly.
FOURTEEN
ADDIE
“What thefuckdo you think you’re doing?”
Anger so palpable it feels like a punch wells up from the depths of nothingness, yanking me from unconsciousness.
Confused, I crack my eyes half-open. Bright sunlight sears my retinas, and I squint with a pained groan.
