Tom didn’t want to see Yuri’s face as Blackburn delivered the bad news, so his gaze dropped down to Yuri’s hand, where his fingers were crawling over the computer keyboard controlling the census device. Confusion washed over him, because Yuri was still looking at Blackburn and seemed unaware of what he was doing.

Then Tom realized Yuri wasn’t the one doing it.

Someone else was.

With a hum that still made Tom’s blood turn to ice, the census device powered up. Blackburn’s voice died as all five legs of the metal claw activated, and the bright beams lashed out at Yuri’s head.

Yuri’s neck jerked back, exposing the long, strained tendons alongside his throat. The first terrible scream ripped out of him as the blue beams enveloped his temples, his arms flying out wide, his entire body convulsing like he was in contact with some live wire.

Tom started forward, but Vik’s hand closed around his arm, jerking him away. He saw Wyatt hauled back by Blackburn as Yuri convulsed to the ground.

“Don’t,” Blackburn shouted. “That’s an electrical discharge!”

The current overloaded the census device, and the unit sparked and fizzled. The beams died away, leaving Yuri limp on the ground, an awful silence descending over the chamber.

Joseph Vengerov had, indeed, surrendered to Blackburn’s terms. He’d removed Yuri’s processor from Blackburn’s reach, the processor Yuri depended on to live.

He’d obliterated it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

TOM WAS NEVER sure what to do when he visited Yuri in the infirmary during the months that followed. Mostly, he stood there looking at the slashing green line of Yuri’s EKG, his neural processor automatically assuring him it was a normal sinus rhythm. Today, he found himself listening to Dr. Gonzales and another physician discuss the case on the other side of the room, speculating about how Yuri had made it so long without the processor, even in his medically induced coma.

“Maybe he was born under a lucky star,” Gonzales said. Then he seemed to realize what he’d said, and began chuckling merrily.

Tom turned and walked out. He didn’t fool himself anymore. He felt a flicker of surprise each day when he found Yuri still lying there, a machine breathing for him, an implanted pacemaker keeping blood circulating through his veins. One time, he swore, he saw Yuri’s eyelids fluttering a bit like he was dreaming, but when he moved closer, he realized it had been the light playing tricks.

He grabbed a sandwich in the mess hall. He spotted Wyatt near the door and considered it. Why not? It had been a day or two since she’d had a chance to ignore him.

He tossed his tray on the table and slouched into the seat across from hers. “What’s up?”