I let Tair’s consciousness bleed over mine. He could tell the difference between the fighters and the science staff, and he recognized a few faces. They stared at Eva—who I remembered was mostly a lab body unless she was in the middle of a mission—and then gaped at Tair and me.

But mostly me.

What’s the deal? I was used to being watched, but here I should be just another Red refugee.

You’re a bit of a legend.

“Really?” I accidentally said it out loud and Eva shot a sharp gaze over her shoulder. Oops. But either way, I could work with that.

Really. News must have spread that you’re back.

Maybe back, but staying? That definitely wasn’t for sure.

Eva led us up the steps of an RV that looked brown and bland on the outside. The inside made me blink.

It wasn’t quite as flashy as the Seligo’s labs, but it was close, all clean and teched out and sterile. A guard shut the door behind us and Eva waved us toward the compact seating area. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”

Much for sure.

I sat next to Tair, keeping my thigh pressed against him instead of breaking away.

Not helping me focus. His voice came out strained and I caught glimpses of a few kissy futures where he slung me over his legs, and—

“You two seem cozy,” Eva said, bringing me back to reality.

Apparently the position wasn’t helping me focus, either. I shook my head to clear the hanky panky and scowled at her. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I wanted you back. Now here you are. Both of you.” She crossed her legs, still obviously smug about it. “You’ll be my best weapons against the Citadel.”

“Not necessarily,” I said.

That wiped the smug off her. “Have you seen something?”

“I’ve seen a lot of things.” I turned to Tair. Do you want to tell her off, or should I?

I’ll take this one. His eyes hardened as he fixed his gaze on Eva. “Why should we help? You’ve proven that your morals are talk. At least the Seligo are honest about what they are.”

“To be clear.” Eva’s eyes hardened until she looked more like a drill sergeant than a mother figure. “Yours is the only non-consensual modification I’ve ever done and I wouldn’t have considered it if Quanta hadn’t insisted.”

Was she insane? “I never—”

“You were three years old.” Eva held up a hand, cutting me off. “You could barely pronounce his name, but you told me Altair Orpheus was your genetic match.”

My throat tasted dry as ashes and Tair was absolutely still. I didn’t dare peek into the future to see how this played out.

Would he hate me? Or would I hate myself enough for both of us?