Chapter 65 #2
I nodded faintly, like it was a thought I’d already gone over a thousand times.
“I will. I just… Not now. Not with all these eyes on her. Something’s off. These Radicals… The way they’ve been targeting her. It’s too precise. It’s not random.” I shook my head. “I think Stephen’s involved somehow.”
Maria blinked once, then creased her brow. “I don’t believe that. But he’s your friend. If you’re worried, simply ask him.”
I let out a humorless breath. “I don’t trust him anymore. Not with her. That’s why I didn’t tell him about her being my daughter. He’s got his own ideas, his own agenda. Trying to push her toward James like some kind of matchmaker.”
Maria snorted and rolled onto her back, her hair spilling across the sheets like ink.
“Wow. A father who doesn’t want his daughter in a romantic relationship. Shocking.”
“This isn’t that,” I replied coldly. “The boy’s not worthy of training her.
He hasn’t finished the first half of his first cycle.
He can’t even manage his own emotions yet.
And now he’s the one leading a maga who carries translation laced with two hazes, both holding the knowledge and weight of over fifty cycles? While she’s being hunted by Radicals?”
I shook my head slowly, the fire behind his eyes burning through the quiet. “It’s reckless. And it’s a mistake.”
Maria paused, watching him carefully. “Why don’t you tell her she’s your daughter? Train her yourself?”
I squeezed her hand, a rare softness passing through my chest. “Because I could never do that to her. Or her mother.”
Maria went still. “You still love Lucia.”
It wasn’t a question. And even if it had been, she already knew the answer. So I didn’t give one, just like all the times before.
“We’ll have many cycles to find our way back to each other,” I mumbled back quietly. “There’s no need to rush it now.”
Whoosh.
Another clip. Another timeline.
The room was dimmer this time. Intimate. Private. The moonlight returned, spilling over stone floors and high ceilings.
“You killed Bill Ferrars?” Maria hissed. “Emma’s boss?”
I stood with my back to her; arms folded behind me like a general waiting for war. “Only way to wipe out any roads that would lead to me, or her. The Radicals are looking for her, and I’m not taking any risks.”
Maria shot to her feet, eyes blazing. “What if someone suspects her?”
I didn’t flinch. “She was retrieved over two months ago. No one will.”
Maria took a step forward. “And if they do?”
I turned at last, my eyes glinting with cold intent.
“Then we blame the Radicals.”
Another whoosh.
But this one didn’t land cleanly. The edges of the vision wavered—flickering like static—as if Maurice didn’t want me seeing what came next.
The haze finally settled, and I found myself inside a different room, darker, colder. The air heavy with old blood and fresh betrayal.
I was already mid-rant.
“Those people at Coastal weren’t yours,” I spat at a man I didn’t recognize, broad-shouldered, eyes like black ice. “They were Caden Colt’s men, on a mission for Stephen Stone.”
I dropped into a chair as if gravity had finally caught up to me. My hands trembled with unfiltered rage.
“They hurt her. They mutilated her. Her arm is ruined.” I felt like I wanted to shatter something. “I want all of them fucking dead.”
The unknown man cocked his head, utterly unfazed. There was no compassion in him. Only amusement. “And what do you want me to do about it?”
My gaze burned. “I want you and your Radicals to attack Crown. I want you to make them pay for ever laying a hand on my daughter.”
The man’s laugh was low, humorless.
“Why would I do that? They’re already resisting the consensus. They’re against the Exposure. They’re on my side. I have no reason to go after them.”
I leaned forward. “Then find a reason.”
A slow, dangerous smile spread across the man’s face. “Maybe I need some motivation.”
Silence stretched. Then…
“You want the Amplifier.” I said it like a death sentence.
The man grinned like he’d just won a hand he hadn’t even bet on. “I know you have it. Hand it over, and I’ll attack Crown with it.”
I shook my head. “A nuclear-grade weapon to burn one Collective? That’s extreme. Even for you.”
The man shrugged. “Then consider the Offensives of Crown your own problem.”
I stood, the tension in my shoulders like a storm waiting to break. “I can’t officially declare war on Crown. Not yet. We still need them to stall the Great Exposure.”
I began to pace, words accelerating. “So here’s what we do. You claim the hit on the Diamond City first. Let the world think Radicals were responsible. It’s what the Board told everyone anyway, since they have no idea Collabs exist yet.”
I stopped. Turned. “Then you hit Cyclos, without the Amplifier, to be clear. I’ll lift the Layers for you. The attack will draw attention, but it will shift any suspicion off us.”
The man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And then?”
“Then you go for Crown. But if I’m giving you this weapon—this favor—then I need something in return.”
“What is it?”
I took a breath. “The people here will start to ask questions, and I need an exit-strategy.”
I paused for a second, then said, “I’ll fight against you with Crown’s Offensives. Publicly. But when the time comes…” My voice dropped to a whisper. “You help me fake my own death.”
A beat.
The man rose, while his lips curled in amusement. “Easy enough. My right hand, Cara Sinclair, has some expertise in that area.”
They shook hands.
“Then we have a deal,” I said, calm as ice.
Before I could even draw a breath, the world warped again.
Colors smeared. Sound bent.
A park stretched around me. Sun-dappled grass. Towering trees with wide, leafy canopies that swayed gently in a breeze. Somewhere nearby, water trickled, fountains, maybe. Peaceful. Carefully chosen.
Blue droplets flared in the air in front of me, hanging suspended like falling stars frozen mid-descent.
Maurice’s golden Nexus. My Nexus.
I scowled as I accepted the nex, especially once the projection came fully into view.
Cara Sinclair stood before me, as if she’d stepped directly into the park, her posture straight, her expression unsmiling.
“Ms. Sinclair,” Maurice—I—drawled, folding my arms. “To what do I owe this mild displeasure?”
“I want to make you a deal,” she said flatly, skipping every imaginable nicety.
I snorted. “Not interested.”
“You will be,” she replied coolly, “when you hear what I have to say.”
I sighed, ready to break off the connection. “Bye, Cara.”
“It’s about your daughter.”
I stopped in my tracks. “How do you know about her?”
Cara smirked triumphantly. “Let’s just say my former leader was all but too eager to share some classified intel with me.”
“Meaning you leaked him. Fine, you have my attention. What about Emma?”
Cara shifted her weight. “Have you heard Stephen Stone is in the US?”
“Yeah.” I scoffed. “Heard he was looking for me.” A humorless smile tugged at my mouth. “Let him try. I’ve got more than a few cycles on him.”
“Do you know where he was right before that?”
I shifted my weight, unsure where she was going with this.
“I’ll take your silence to mean you don’t know,” Cara continued evenly, “he just paid a visit to the High Chief with some very interesting information about your daughter and her future.”
My jaw tightened. “He told them about the Krait?”
“Among other things.”
I took a step toward her, the air between us humming faintly with blue Nexus drops. “You’re trying my patience, Ms. Sinclair.”
“And your refusal to deal with me is trying mine,” she shot back without flinching.
I exhaled sharply. “What do you want?”
“I tell you what Stephen told the Chiefs,” she said dryly, “and you don’t touch James Walker. Ever.”
I crossed my arms. “You want his immunity?”
“Yes.” A beat. “And in exchange, I’ll tell you where the next threat to your daughter’s life is coming from.”
I rolled my eyes, irritation flaring hot. “Fine. He’s untouchable.” I jabbed a finger at her. “Now talk.”
“Stephen went to the Chiefs and told them how, in the future where Emma chooses Caden,” Cara said, “the United Chiefs will all die.”
My brow furrowed hard. “What the fuck? Is that true?”
“I don’t know.” She paused. “What I do know is, he told them James Walker would be the Krait’s father. Said he was certain because of his real first name: Aleksander. With a K.”
Motherfucker.
“So now what?” I snapped. “The Chiefs are lining up to kill Caden Colt and hurt my daughter, and have legitimized it with some sort of sacred goal to procure the Krait?”
“Something like that,” Cara said. “Though Stephen made sure all their lives would be spared.”
My head snapped up. “How?”
She shook her head once. “No idea. I got lucky and leaked one of the Chiefs’ aids who heard it through the grapevine. That’s all she knew.”
The park felt colder suddenly.
And inside Maurice’s mind, something dark and deliberate began to stir.
“I’ll handle Stephen.”
Cara’s projection didn’t flinch. “How? He’s a Specialist. He’ll be gone before you’ve even moved.”
A slow smile curved my mouth. “He’s not the only one.”
I severed the connection.
Cara’s face dissolved in a ripple of light, the Nexus snapping shut like a slammed door. There was no triumph in it, only intent. Cold. Focused.
Time to hunt down a rat.
I tore myself out of Maurice’s mind like I’d touched fire.