“Really?” Victor had to admit, he was impressed.

“But the thing is,” said Dom, “they don’t seem to be trying. And she’s not exactly keeping the lowest profile. She killed six of our agents, clipped a sniper—hell, every day she does something new. But orders are to hold.” He lowered his voice. “There’s something going on. I just don’t know what. Above my pay grade, obviously.”

“And Eli?” prompted Victor.

“Still in his vault.” Dom shot him a nervous look. “For now.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just a rumor,” said Dom, “but apparently some of the higher-ups think he should be playing a more active role.”

“They wouldn’t do something that stupid.”

But then, people did stupid things all the time. And Eli could charm almost anyone.

“Anything else?” he asked.

Dominic hesitated, rubbing at his neck. “It’s getting worse.”

“I’ve noticed,” said Victor dryly.

“Yesterday Holtz found me heaving my guts out in a closet. And last week I broke into a cold sweat in the middle of a training seminar. I’ve claimed hangover, PTSD, anything I can think of, but I’m running out of lies.”

And I’m running out of lives, thought Victor, pushing off the lockers.

“Good luck,” called Dom as he left.

But Victor didn’t need luck.

He needed a doctor.

* * *

SYDNEY stepped out into the sun on the rooftop garden of the Kingsley building.

It was a blue sky day, but the air was still cold. It made her think of the lake, her thirteenth birthday, the skin of ice over the melted water.

Her fingers tightened on her cell. The text had come in while she was unpacking, three short words that made her nervous.

June: Call me. Now.

Sydney called.

It rang, and rang, and when June finally answered, all Syd heard was music, too loud and fraying at the edges. June’s lilting voice broke through, telling her to hold on, and a second later the music dropped away, replaced by the low hum of an engine.

“Sydney,” said June, her voice high and clear. “Just the girl I need.”

“Hey,” said Syd. “We just got to Merit. What’s going on? Are you here?”

“On my way back,” said June. “Had a bit of work outside the city.

Look,” she went on, “I need you to do something for me.”

There was a tension in June’s voice, an urgency Syd had never heard before.

“What is it?” she asked.

A short exhale, like static on the line. “I need you to tell me where Victor is.”

The words fell like a rock in Sydney’s stomach. “What?”