Her chin trembles. She wipes at her eyes with the back of her wrist. “If Victor cares for me, he should want to give me his attention, right? He shouldn’t want to spend time with other girls. Hurting me should hurt him.”

    Well. I can’t argue with that. “Have you talked to him about your feelings? Sadly, boys aren’t mind readers.”

    “No, but...”

    But? “Are you two dating?” I ask.

    “I thought we were. Before his abduction, he told me he liked me. He also told me we had to keep things quiet since our relationship wasn’t Grid-approved. But it shouldn’t matter, you know? He has free will. Now I’m wondering if his free will is telling him to see other girls.”

    Ouch. “Maybe ask him about his long-term intentions?” In this area, I have little experience. I’ve only ever dated James—who lied to me the entire time, and I never suspected—and Killian.

    “I’ve done that, at least,” she grumbles. “He says I’m the only one. He says he wants to take the next step with me, to...you know, but every time I push for a legit commitment, he balks.”

    You know. Sex. I remember a time when I’d been so shy, the S-word had made me blush, too. But I’m not that girl anymore. Prynne changed me.

    “I know our rules are in place for a reason, that we’re supposed to follow the directions of the Grid because forever is a long, long time, and we don’t always see the whole picture like the Grid,” she continues, sounding miserable, “but maybe I should just go ahead and sleep with Victor? He’ll leave me if I don’t. And it’s just sex, right?”

    “Uh, you do not sleep with a guy just to keep him. If your body is more important to him than your mind, he’s not worth keeping.” My tone is stern. I may not have experience in this area, but I know she’s a treasure worth fighting for. “Sex isn’t a relationship cure-all.”

    Killian and I aren’t having sex—we can’t. And yet he’s doing everything in his power to help me. He wants the best for me, no matter what. He prizes me.

    Just as I prize him. He’s strong, smart and witty. He’s fun. He’s protective and possessive. He’s determined. To those he loves, he’s kind. He’s giving.

    He’s willing to die for me. Can I really do less for him?

    To me, Killian is worth any hardship. He’s worth any pain I’ll have to face. Besides, if I won’t fight for what I want, I can’t cry when I don’t get it.

    “What should I do?” she asks.

    “Listen to your instincts. Follow your heart.” Good advice. Advice I need to follow. “Never compromise what’s right.”

    chapter nineteen

* * *

    “Every mind needs a bouncer at the door.”

    —Troika

    That night, sleep eludes me. My mind returns to Lina, possible ways to convince her to go to court—and win!—and the meaning of her song. By morning, I’m exhausted and still clueless.

    Levi surprises me with a visit. “We’re doing things differently today,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “Rather than training, you’re going out on assignment.”

    My stomach twists with sudden nervousness. “Why?”

    “Two birds, one stone.”

    “Am I supposed to know what that means?” I grumble. “You know, General Nanne, you have a gift. You can make me like and dislike you simultaneously.”

    Oh, who am I kidding? I love the man. In many ways, he’s become a father figure to me. A father figure my own wasn’t. Levi supports me. He encourages me.

    I might even be used to those annoying life lessons.

    Might! I said might!

    “You wanted my help with Killian,” he says, “and I want your help with a possible recruit.”

    “I’m listening.”

    “Remember the woman who begged you to save her daughter Brigitte the day you arrived in Troika? Brigitte is a distant relative on your father’s side. She’s Unsigned, and Mr. Flynn has been assigned to her.”

    Myriad clearly believes the more of my family they have, the less I’ll fight the realm.

    Diabolical fiends!

    Their choice—their consequences.

    What they don’t yet realize? We’re all connected. If not by blood, then emotion, experience or pain. One person’s life will always lead to another’s.

    “If you accept the mission—” he says.

    “I accept,” I rush out.

    He chuckles. “I’ll station TLs in the area. I’ll erect a Buckler, keeping other MLs out, minimizing the level of danger you face. Keep in mind Brigitte has a tracker.”

    Anger gives me a swift kick. I know all about trackers. Dr. Vans surgically implanted one in my side. As my aunt removed it—in one of her rare moments of lucidity—I begged her to leave it inside me. There’s a mind-altering drug in it, and it made me think I wanted, no, needed the very object of my downfall.

    “By the way,” I add. “Did your brilliant mind figure out Lina’s song?”

    One fox in the henhouse. In two days, he’ll try to eat his mouse.

    Time is running out.

    “It...didn’t.” He drums his fingertips against his chin. “But I’m not worried. We’ll figure it out. Go on now. A Shell is waiting for you. By the way, you won’t be monitored. The Eye will not record the mission.”