“And I’m supposed to take your word for that?” Breton’s eyes narrowed. “The word of a vampire who has never joined the Movement, standing up for a vampire who turned his back on all we stand for?”

My hands shook with anger. “Fine. I’ll join the Movement right now. Where do I sign up? Because once I get my membership card, I’m going to lodge a complaint against you for being…such an asshole!”

“Harrison,” Breton barked, though his enraged gaze never left mine. “Kindly keep your visitor under control before drastic measures are taken!”

“Calm down!” Max had never used such a tone with me. That he did it now showed how afraid he was of Breton. “General, there has to be some way to fix this so Nathan doesn’t have to die.”

“The decision is final.” The general scraped the photos into a neat pile.

I turned helplessly to Max. He couldn’t look me in the eye. I knew then nothing could be done.

I glared at the slip of yellow paper. For a moment, I imagined grabbing the kill order and shredding it into a hundred pieces, but that wouldn’t solve anything. So long as the Movement wished it, Nathan was already dead.

“What about the Oracle?” I asked, hope clutching feebly for purchase in my chest. “What if she—”

Breton’s eyes narrowed. “No one has given you permission to speak to the Oracle.”

“We were going to ask you, General.” Max gave me a frosty glare. “I just hadn’t gotten around to it.”

“The Oracle is useless. I do not believe she has made an accurate prediction to date. And she is…unpredictable. We cannot risk a civilian in contact with her.”

“I think I can handle myself!” It was definitely the wrong tactic to take with him. I realized it too late.

The general shook his head. “We are finished here. See yourselves out, please.”

Max put his hand on my arm. “Let’s go, Carrie.”

Before I knew what I was doing, I reached for the kill order. “Fine. If someone is going to kill him, it might as well be me.”

“You’re not Movement.” Breton offered no further explanation.

“I’m his fledgling!” I pounded my fist on the table. There was no sense keeping it secret if he were going to be killed, anyway.

The general looked to Max, an expression somewhere between anger and mirth crossing his face. “Harrison? You told me she was sired by Simon Seymour.”

“I was!” In my anger I’d forgotten the trouble Max would get into for knowing—and not reporting—that Nathan had revived me. “Cyrus tried to kill me. Nathan gave me his blood to revive me. But Max didn’t know.”

“Is this true, Harrison?” Breton looked at Max the way a venomous snake looks at its next meal.