Who did we kill? Melanie muttered sullenly. This stung her, too.

“You want a minute with her?” Brandt asked me, and the pain stabbed again. Had Brandt ever referred to me using a feminine pronoun? I wasn’t surprised that Jeb had done this for the Seeker, but everyone else?

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Careful,” Aaron cautioned. “She’s an angry little thing.”

I nodded.

The others stayed where they were. I walked down the tunnel alone.

It was hard to lift my eyes, to meet the gaze that I could feel like cold fingers pressing against my face.

The Seeker was glaring at me, a harsh sneer twisting her features. I’d never seen a soul use that expression before.

“Well, hello there, Melanie,” she mocked me. “What took you so long to come visit?”

I didn’t answer. I walked toward her slowly, trying hard to believe that the hate coursing through my body really did not belong to me.

“Did your little friends think I would talk to you? Spill all my secrets because you carry a gagged and lobotomized soul around in your head, reflecting through your eyes?” She laughed abrasively.

I stopped two long strides away from her, my body tensed to run. She made no aggressive move toward me, but I could not relax my muscles. This was not like meeting the Seeker on the highway—I didn’t have the usual sensation of safety that I felt around the gentle others of my kind. Again, the strange conviction that she would live long after I was gone swept through me.

Don’t be ridiculous. Ask her your questions. Have you come up with any?

“So, what do you want? Did you request permission to kill me personally, Melanie?” the Seeker hissed.

“They call me Wanda here,” I said.

She flinched slightly when I opened my lips to speak, as if expecting me to shout. My low, even voice seemed to upset her more than the scream she anticipated.

I examined her face while she glared at me with her bulging eyes. It was dirty, stained with purple dust and dried sweat. Other than that, there wasn’t a mark on it. Again, this gave me an odd ache.

“Wanda,” she repeated in a flat voice. “Well, what are you waiting for? Didn’t they give you the okay? Were you planning to use your bare hands or my gun?”

“I’m not here to kill you.”

She smiled sourly. “To interrogate me, then? Where are your instruments of torture, human?”

I cringed. “I won’t hurt you.”

Insecurity flickered across her face and then vanished behind her sneer. “What are they keeping me for, then? Do they think I can be tamed, like your pet soul?”

“No. They just… they didn’t want to kill you until they had… consulted me. In case I wanted to talk to you first.”

Her lids lowered, narrowing her protruding eyes. “Do you have something to say?”