She fell out of the meld state as abruptly as though yanked from the air, with a force that felt as though it should have driven the air from her lungs, so it was a shock to find herself able to breathe, the others still alive around her but gone now, their absence a new ache.

Everything felt wrong now: the lights too bright and buzzing on the edge of audibility, an uneasy roil of pain riding her lower gut, her skin flushed with too much heat, as though she had been standing too close to a fire. If she had not already been on her knees, she would have fallen to them.

As it was, she slumped forward with an involuntary grunt that brought a knife-edge gleam to Last’s dull eyes. “There she is. Now you know how it will be,” he said with satisfaction, and motioned to have them taken back to their cell.

Something unexpected happened the next time Turo came to bring them food, once again flanked by the two deadly drones that hung in the air behind him, gun barrels fixed on the prisoners, swiveling from one to the next in unrhythmic, unpredictable intervals.

“I need to talk to you,” Milly said to him. “Alone.”

The rest of them looked at her in shock. They had been swapping stories of their favorite meals, a practice that Atlanta found more tantalizing than assuaging, and the pastry chef had said nothing of an intent to do this.

“It’s important,” Milly told him. She didn’t look at the rest of the group, only him, her gaze earnest.

“Milly,” Niko began in a warning tone. “What are you doing?”

“Working on saving my own hide, Captain. You can’t do it, so maybe you should butt out.”

Talon surged to his feet. The drone guns trained on him. Beside him, Skidoo coiled and uncoiled, turquoise gaze fixed on Milly.

“Stand down, soldiers,” Niko bellowed. Both did. Talon’s eyes were wide, enormous pupils fixed on the drones. If he had been in cat form, his tail would be lashing.

“Something important, huh?” Turo said to Milly. “Something you don’t want the rest of them to hear.”

“Just gimme a chance to pitch you,” Milly said. Her voice was tight with urgency, and the walls of the room seemed to press in as though listening for the tiger man’s answer.

“All right,” he said. He stepped back and waved her toward the door. “Though these little beauties will take your head off if you make a move, I should warn you about that.”

“Milly!” Niko snapped. But the other woman paid her no attention, simply moved to the door without looking at any of them. Turo surveyed the rest, eyes lingering on Niko, who settled back against the wall and folded her arms, her answering stare impassive.

He tossed the food on an empty bench and left.