“Because all of the rules we used to operate by were based around mutually assured destruction. We needed a scare,” Cradle said. “Something that forces everyone to look at where they stand and what they’re willing to do. We pose a threat without actually following through, then remind you all that you need us.”

None of it true. Well—some. It had been a contingency plan. Discussed in the span of one minute, as a possibility if something did get loose.

Cradle—

She screamed.

Just as bad as the Fallen boy.

“You chopped up my teammates. You chopped up kids!”

“We took them out of the picture! The plan was to take the best and most vulnerable—”

“And chop them up into mincemeat!?”

“No! To disable them. To force them onto the bench so that if something did happen, they wouldn’t get hurt in the time it took us to step in.”

Truth… except now she didn’t believe him.

“Why mincemeat!?”

“Because I handed the tool off to a hireling and they lost their mind.”

“I don’t believe you,” the Fallen boy said, gripping the dais. “I don’t believe any of this.”

“I’ll admit. A bit of it was to fuck with you. To pressure—her idea.”

Cradle pointed at Love Lost.

She screamed and pounded.

“To put you into a corner. To force you to surrender. That was true.”

“You’re a fucking lunatic.”

“I hate you so much I can’t think straight,” Cradle snarled. “I want you to die in the worst ways…”

His head bowed slightly.

“Love Lost?” Colt asked, her voice small.

“I’ll show you I’m genuine,” Cradle said.

“I don’t trust you.”

“Do you have the pieces of the red whip?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll give you what I have. All of it.”

Love Lost swiped her hand across the dais. Clearing away rubble.

Turning up the teeth.

Nothing new for Colt.

“Take these coins,” Cradle said. “Full strength tinker power. Fix the whip. Use it to undo the damage to your team. When we offer our help with whatever March is pulling, you let us.”

“Love Lost,” Colt said.

Colt turned to look at the younger girl.

Colt indicated the floor.

Centimeter by centimeter, hair by hair, the floor changed. The nursery disappeared, and Cradle’s domain grew.

She touched the barrier, and she could feel its movement.

Hair by hair. Drop of blood by drop of blood.

Hers—and probably Colt’s too.

She screamed again.

Cradle held out the coins, fingers pinching at the edges while he held them to the barrier.

Why?

Were they a trap, somehow? How?

The Fallen boy didn’t take them. When he’d said he didn’t trust Cradle, he’d meant it.

“Why is the room shrinking?” Colt asked.

“Be—” Love Lost started. Her throat was raw from screaming. “Because he’s killing us as we speak.”