“I never said that,” replied Marcella pointedly. “I told you I hadn’t decided yet. And I haven’t. You know I like to know my options, and I have to admit that Stell’s reaction to the news of Victor Vale has piqued my interest. I’ve done a little homework, and this Vale is quite an interesting case. He could turn out to be an asset. Or perhaps not. But I certainly don’t plan on handing him over to EON until I’ve had a chance to meet him.”

Never one to waste a weapon, thought June.

“Who knows,” mused Marcella. “Maybe he’ll prove pliable.”

Victor struck June as many things— pliable wasn’t one of them. If anything, he seemed to be rather intransigent, cold smoke to Marcella’s fire. But opposites attracted for a reason. Would it be such a bad thing?

June had always assumed she’d have to pry Sydney from Victor’s grasp, but maybe she wouldn’t have to. Maybe he would join them, three EOs becoming five. That was a nice number, wasn’t it? Five. Almost a family.

Marcella was still talking.

“I want you to make contact,” she was saying. “Arrange a meeting with our new friend. I’ll send you the details. Oh, and June?”

“Yeah?”

“Somebody convinced Victor to come to Merit, and it wasn’t me.”

“My money’s on EON.”

“That would probably be a good bet. Obviously, we can’t let them get to Victor first. So do try not to lose him.”

June swore again, and gunned the engine.

IV

I

JUDGMENT DAY

I

THE DAY BEFORE

II

MERIT

THE Kingsley was a blade of a building, thrust up through the city’s skyline.

But Victor hadn’t chosen the place for the modern aesthetics. No, the selling point had been its underground parking, which mitigated the problems of exposure—a tattooed man with a shaved head, a giant black dog, and a short blond child would always stand out, even in a city like Merit—and the closed-circuit security, which Mitch would have hacked by the time they unpacked, and—much to Sydney’s apparent delight—a rooftop garden.

Mitch set their bags down inside the door.

“Don’t get comfortable,” said Victor. “We’re not staying long.”

Mitch and Sydney shouldn’t have come at all, but Victor had long given up trying to dissuade them. Attachment was a vexing thing, as pernicious as weeds.

He should have left, before it ever took root.

“I’ll be back,” he said, turning toward the door.

Sydney caught his arm. “Be careful,” she said.

What a nuisance, Victor told himself, even as he rested his hand on her head.

“Careful is a calculated risk,” he said. “And I’m very good at making those.”

Victor pulled away, forcing Syd to let go, and left without looking

back.