Dante nodded. “Just giving some friends a tour of the building,” he said, sounding perfectly at ease. I held my breath, knowing how we must look: a trio of vagrant-looking young people trailing another teen in a very expensive suit. But the man behind the desk immediately nodded.

“Of course, sir. I’ll let security know.”

He waved us through. We passed the desk and entered the elevator at the end of the hall.

When the elevator doors closed, Riley suddenly pushed Dante into the wall, the gun beneath his chin. “That,” he growled as I flinched at his brutality, “was entirely too easy. No one in Talon lets three strangers waltz in off the street. What are you playing at, Chameleon?”

“Who do you think you’re dealing with?” Dante’s voice was equally as hard, and he glared back at Riley with cold green eyes. “Some low-level computer monkey? I own this place. Everyone here answers to me.”

Stunned, I stared at him. I’d always known Dante was ambitious. He had rarely talked about his plans for when he finally got into Talon, but I knew he had them. But an executive? A corporate partner? How had he risen so far in such a short time? He was sixteen, same as me. Either his Chameleon talents were nothing short of miraculous, or there was something else going on.

Either way, I didn’t like it. And neither did either of the boys. Garret’s posture was tense, his eyes shifting between Dante and the glowing numbers above the door, climbing steadily upward. Riley, still pinning Dante against the wall, gave a grim smile.

“Just remember, Mr. Hill,” he warned, pressing the gun to his chest. “I expect you to get us in with no problems. Any alarms ‘mysteriously’ go off, or if we run into any trouble, I’m putting a hole through you first.”

I clenched my jaw at Riley’s threat but didn’t say anything. Dante wasn’t our friend, I reminded myself. He was a Chameleon. I couldn’t think of him as my brother right now, though it still made me slightly ill, seeing him like this. I wished it could be different, but Dante didn’t seem inclined to leave Talon, no matter what I said to convince him otherwise.

The elevator stopped, and as the doors slid open, we all tensed, half expecting a line of guards on the other side, taking aim with their guns. The dark, empty corridor that greeted us didn’t make me any less nervous. Dante stepped forward, but Riley reached out and grabbed his shoulder, pressing the gun into his ribs.

“Slowly,” he growled. “Don’t get too far, Chameleon. Like you said, you’re just giving us a tour.”

“Yes,” Dante said in a tight voice. “And they’re certainly not going to expect anything if I go creeping through the halls with you, hostage-style.”