My lungs seize as panic overwhelms me. Run, stay, hide—I can’t figure out what to do, wholly unprepared for an ambush. We were the ones who were supposed to have had the element of surprise here. We were the ones who were supposed to startle those we thought would be in the lab. But now … Cami and I are standing in the middle of a trashed room with no cover. We might as well have painted targets on our own backs.

Frozen like statues, the two of us draw in audible breaths at the sight of the person who walks through the door.

It’s Ward.

He’s alone.

And unlike us, he doesn’t seem surprised by our appearance.

“I was wondering when you’d come.”

His voice. The deep, velvety tone washes over me, the familiarity of it almost causing me to close my eyes with relief. But I don’t. Because—

“Landon?” Cami whispers. A stifled half sob leaves her lips, as if she can’t quite believe he’s standing before us. Whole and unharmed. Just as he was last night.

Last night.

Whole and unharmed.

When Cami takes a step forward, I grab her arm, holding her back. With half a thought, I say, “Shield!” and an opalescent wall appears between us and Ward—a mockery of protection, but a small comfort nonetheless.

I have only a moment to wonder why he didn’t block it, why he’s looking at me now as if amused, before Cami’s eyes flick to me, her forehead crinkling. “Lyss—”

“Wait,” I tell her, my gaze remaining locked on her brother.

Ward is walking slowly toward us. His mouth is curved up slightly at the edges, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. But there’s no dimple showing. And his eyes …

His eyes are blank.

“Lyss—” Cami tries again.

I tighten my grip as warning bells go off in my mind. Even with my wall in place, I start to pull her backward, but she fights my hold, her crinkled forehead now turning into a full frown.

“What’s the matter with you?” Cami demands. “Let me go!”

Ward’s smile grows and his strides lengthen. There’s nothing natural about his expression, no kindness or humor or anything recognizable in his handsome features. He might as well be a puppet, since I have no doubt that someone else is pulling his strings.

“Cami, look at him,” I tell her, grimacing as I drag her backward over crushed glass. “He’s still under Manning’s control.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Chip,” Ward says. “Manning isn’t powerful enough to get past my protective ability.”

It’s not his claim that stops me in my tracks. It’s the name he used.

Chip.

A name that I once hated, but also secretly loved. A name that only Ward ever used for me.