“He needs a chance to get out and hunt,” I say as we approach the knot of people still watching our beast. “Do you think the captain would let us take a Splinter and—”

The words die in my throat. Something’s risen over the babble of the crowd, two words that need no translation:

“Cassandra Leung.”

I turn so fast that the cuffs all but cut my wrist, and there’s Fabian Murphy, our IGEOC agent, his cold gray eyes fixed on mine. His suit looks as out of place on the Flotilla as it did in Mom’s lab all those months ago, and he seems just as startled to see me as I am to see him. I don’t blame him. To Murphy, I’m a ghost made flesh, a long-dead girl who’s somehow managed to crawl out of the sea.

It takes Swift a few seconds to realize exactly what’s happened, but when she does, it only takes her an instant to react. She pulls hard on the cuffs, jerking me away from him as he takes a step forward, and before I can choke out a protest, her hand is over my mouth. “We need to get away from the ship,” she hisses in my ear.

“Calm down, miss,” Murphy says, shifting after a few uncertain syllables into the voice he always uses to negotiate. “Look, I’m sure we can talk this out.”

Swift hauls me backward just as Murphy reaches out, his cold grasp latching around my wrist before she can tug me out of reach. I try to speak through her fingers, but all I get is muffled vowels.

His grip is unrelenting, and it feels like he’s about to rip me in half. “Cassandra, it’s your handiwork, isn’t it? The beast? Please, I can get you away from them. I have contacts in the SRCese military who could—”

“Who is this guy?” Swift scoffs, her breath hot on my neck. Murphy pulls so hard that I feel a pop in my shoulder. I’m caught in a tug of war between savior and captor, and the worst part is that I know exactly who I’d go with if given the choice. But neither of them are giving me that choice. The people around us are starting to stare.

“I can tell your parents—”

“Cas,” Swift warns.

It’s all up to me. I let the stiffness go from my spine, going so limp that Swift startles, checking to see what’s wrong. Her hold slips, and I lunge forward, straining against her and toward Murphy. His grip on my wrist loosens, and in that moment, I twist.