“He ranted in Tholosian propaganda phrases the whole time I cleaned him up,” Rhea said, rolling her eyes. “He was out of it but it was still annoying.”

“I’m wounded, literally and metaphorically. Here I thought you enjoyed the sound of my voice. And me without a shirt on. Or was it just my face? You touched it enough.” He winked. “Thanks for the shave. I didn’t much like the scruff.”

Nyx studied him. Without the dirt and beard, he looked like a pretty boy, more fit for the Pleasure Gardens than military, but that sharp gaze was all soldier. She had no doubt that he had seen his share of ground battle. Faded burn scars smattered the neckline of his shirt.

“That one’s quiet this time.” Cato jerked his chin toward Eris. “I could have sworn she enjoyed swearing at me.”

“Shut up,” Nyx snarled.

Cato smirked. “I thought you wanted me to talk.” He nodded to Eris. “I like her best. I’ll talk to her.”

Nyx balled up the front of his shirt and jerked his chair forward. “You’ll talk to me.”

“Nope.”

“What’d you do to the ship?” Nyx asked, taking out her knife. The sharp edge glinted in the harsh overhead lights of the interrogation room. She pointed the blade toward his eye, touching with just the tip so he got the idea.

But he was a stubborn bastard. His slow grin was easy and he cocked his head at Rhea, away from the blade. “That pretty girl shouldn’t have turned her back.”

With a growl, Nyx tightened her grip on his shirt. “How do we fix it?”

“Oh, I don’t know that—”

Nyx slashed the blade across the underside of his chin. It was a long cut but superficial. A perfectly controlled warning. Blood welled against his pale skin. Behind her, Rhea sucked in a breath.

“Try again, asshole.” Nyx held the blade to his throat.

Cato didn’t even drop his smile. “Cut me again. That tickled.” At her glare, he lifted a shoulder. “Do you think this is worse than where I’ve been? I spent years flying in and out of hostile territory. This was supposed to be a cushy gig and now you’ve all fucked it up. I’ll probably get executed with you.”

“Don’t care,” Nyx said. She nicked his skin with the blade. “Tell me that cypher or I’ll slice open your throat.”

“Ah, but if you do that, you’ll still be stuck right where you are, won’t you?” He shook his head. “It was pretty ballsy of you to go to Macella. The general will eventually figure out you’re traitors.”