I could see the lines in Tristan’s jaw standing out. He said, “I know. I remember.”

“I want to see Byron,” Moonsong said.

“Not your call. His turn isn’t until later.”

There was a shudder, and then my hair started to move. The light further down the hallway seemed to grow darker, and my stomach lurched in a sensation that I connected to a lot of aerial acrobatics.

“You want to pick a fight here?” Tristan asked.

Tribute shifted his footing, stepping forward a little, and clasped his hands in front of his groin. With his head bowed slightly, he was faintly reminiscent of the Wardens’ emblem.

I stepped forward, ready to put myself between them, and I felt the stomach-lurching sensation again. My leg buckled, and I nearly fell.

My hair was floating now, and my legs were straining, almost locked in position with the stress of keeping me upright.

Gravity manipulation, but somehow a mix of zero-grav and enhanced gravity.

I flew instead of walking, and it was hard to keep my position. I stopped when I was between Tristan and the other two. “This isn’t helpful.”

“Victoria,” Moonsong said. “I’m going to tell you how this goes.”

I felt the gravity shift again, an attempt to put me down against the floor, and threw up my forcefield to avoid twisting my ankle or hitting the ground too hard. I was glad my skirt wasn’t the kind that could flip up, as it hugged my thighs, but my midriff was exposed now.

“Tristan joins the team, and he charms the pants off of everyone he meets. He’s good at the stuff he does in front of the camera, he’s good at the hero stuff, he’s strong. He gets decent grades, he makes friends, he finds allies and he works on them. Because that’s what sociopaths do. He doesn’t actually care about them.”

“Sociopath?” Tristan asked. “You’re as deluded as ever.”

“He jokes and acts all cute about how he’s competitive, he likes to win, and he tends to win so you don’t really see how sore of a loser he is when things go bad. He sets his sights on something he wants, he gets it. Sets his sights on something else, he gets it. Until he doesn’t get what he wants. Like being team leader or getting a key role in an event that’s coming up. That’s when he starts using the people he’s been working on. They’re usually desperate people. Vulnerable ones.”

I thought of Rain, who Tristan had called a friend. Or did the whole team count?

“It’s called leaning on people when you’re struggling.”

“It’s called manipulation. And you’re good at it,” Tribute said.

“Fuck off,” Tristan said. “Drop the power use and let us go. We’ve got things to do.”