Chapter 30 #2
He nodded to his assistant and my tablet dinged with a new message.
“What’s this?” I asked, pulling up the document he’d sent.
“The break-up contract,” Martin explained, his voice regaining some of its professional polish. “We need to manage this carefully.”
I scanned through the document, my irritation growing with each paragraph. The contract outlined a detailed timeline for the “amicable separation” between Valor and me. Carefully staged appearances. Scripted statements. Coordinated social media posts.
And then I saw it—the clause that made my blood boil.
“You want me to avoid being seen in public with my actual boyfriend until this charade is over?” I looked up, unable to hide my outrage. “For one to two months?”
“Public perception is delicate,” Martin explained. “We need to avoid any appearance of infidelity.”
“Infidelity?” I sputtered. “To a relationship that doesn’t exist?”
I felt a headache building behind my eyes as Martin stared at me, waiting for my answer. The contract sat on the tablet in front of me, a digital prison sentence with an expiration date.
At least there was an expiration date.
“Fine,” I said, not bothering to hide the bitterness in my voice. “I’ll agree to the contract.”
Martin nodded briskly. “Excellent choice, Ms. Bishop. If you’ll just sign here—“
I scrawled my signature. One to two months of pretending to be engaged to Valor. But at least the press whirlwind would die down. There were only a handful of public appearances to handle according to the breakup contract.
But it would end. That was something.
“Are we done here?” Havoc asked. “I have more important things to do than watch this circus.”
Martin gathered his things. “Of course. Thank you for your time.”
“Out,” Havoc said, not bothering with pleasantries. “Now.”
The door slid shut, and I collapsed back into my seat. My body ached from Cipher’s marks, my head throbbed from the confrontation, and it wasn’t even noon yet.
“I need a vacation,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Preferably on another planet.”
Havoc chuckled. “At least it’s over soon. Two months and you’re free.”
I peeked at him through my fingers. “You really think it’s that simple? Valor doesn’t handle rejection well. He’s used to getting whatever he wants.”
“Tough. He’ll have to learn he can’t have everything.” Havoc leaned against his desk, arms crossed.
“I’m not so sure he’s capable of learning that particular lesson,” I muttered. “His ego is bigger than this tower.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Rough morning, Sparks?
I glanced up at the ceiling, where I knew at least three security cameras were hidden. Of course he was watching. I should be outraged, but honestly, I couldn’t summon the energy.
How long have you been spying?
Expect a call from Wraith in two minutes. He’s uncovered a name.
I sat up straight, suddenly alert and not really caring that he hadn’t answered my question. “Havoc, Wraith is calling in two minutes. He’s found a name.”
Havoc’s eyebrows shot up.
I joined Havoc at his desk. The viewscreen showing the Super News Network was replaced by a stylized “W” wrapped in digital smoke. Exactly two minutes later, the smoke on screen parted to reveal a featureless backlit silhouette.
“Havoc,” Wraith’s digitally altered voice filled the room.
“You have information?” Havoc asked.
“I do. I’ve traced the modifications to their source. The person who commissioned the alterations to the designs is Alexander Mercer.”
The name meant nothing to me, but Havoc’s reaction was immediate and visceral. His entire body went rigid, a flicker of dark energy crackling briefly around his fingertips before he contained it.
Wraith began to speak again, but Havoc cut him off with a sharp gesture. “Bishop, you’re dismissed.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You heard me.” Havoc’s eyes never left the screen. “You’re not needed for this part of the conversation.”
“But I—”
“No.” Havoc’s tone left no room for argument. “Leave. Now.”
“No.” Wraith’s modulated voice stopped me as I started to turn. “Bishop stays.”
“This isn’t up for debate,” Havoc growled.
“Actually, it is.” Wraith’s voice hardened. “Bishop is my only contact for this investigation. I don’t want her in the dark—it makes information relay more difficult and increases the chance of error.”
Havoc’s eyes flashed, energy swirling within their depths. “She doesn’t need to be here or know what we’re going to discuss to be effective.”
“Then our deal is off. If you can’t meet my expectations, I’ll terminate our arrangement.”
Havoc’s eyes flicked to me, then back to the screen.
“You don’t understand what you’re asking,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
“I understand perfectly,” Wraith countered. “Bishop stays, or I go. Your choice.”
Havoc’s hands clenched into fists at his sides and he closed his eyes briefly, looking suddenly older than I’d ever seen him. When he opened them again, all they held was resignation.
“Fine,” he said finally.
“I’ve analyzed all the documentation,” Wraith continued. “Alexander Mercer doesn’t exist. The identity is fabricated, sophisticated enough to fool most systems, but still fake.”
“I know who Mercer is,” Havoc said, his voice grim. “Or rather, who was using that identity.” He paused, his jaw working as if the words themselves were painful to form.
Wraith’s silhouette remained perfectly still. “Go on.”
“It’s an alias for someone known as Halcyon.”
My lungs seized, refusing to expand. The edges of my vision darkened as blood rushed in my ears, drowning out everything else.
Halcyon.
“What?” I managed, my voice a strangled whisper.
Havoc was at my side instantly, his hand on my shoulder. “Annie, breathe. He can’t hurt you. He’s locked up.”
But his words seemed to come from miles away, distorted and meaningless. All I could hear was that name echoing in my head, all I could see was a face I’d spent years trying to forget.
Halcyon.
The man who’d murdered my parents, my brother. Who’d tried to murder me.
My cuff felt too tight, the metal burning against my skin. The power I’d absorbed from him, the ability I’d spent my entire life suppressing, seemed to pulse beneath my skin, responding to the mere mention of its original owner.
“Annie, focus on me,” Havoc was saying, his voice urgent. “You’re safe.”
I wasn’t safe. None of us were safe. If Halcyon was back, if he was behind the murders—
The screen flickered and Wraith’s silhouette vanished, replaced by Cipher’s masked face.
“Annie,” he said, his voice no longer digitally altered. “Look at me.”
Havoc’s head snapped toward the screen, shock replacing concern. “What—”
“Annie, breathe,” Cipher commanded. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Focus on my voice.”
I tried to follow his instructions, but my chest felt like it was being crushed by an invisible weight. If Halcyon was back—if he knew I was alive—
“I’m coming to you,” Cipher said. “Five minutes.”
The screen went dark.
“Annie,” Havoc said. “I need you to listen to me very carefully. Halcyon is still contained. He’s still in the Vault.”
“How can you be sure?” My chest was so tight, forcing the words out hurt.
“Because I check on him. Every single day. I have direct access to the security feeds. I’ve made it my personal responsibility to verify his containment since the day they locked him away. I check every morning, every evening.”
Havoc ran a hand through his hair. “Sometimes it’s all I can do to watch that damn feed.”
I closed my eyes, shaking my head.
“He can’t get to you,” Havoc continued, his voice firm. “He can’t get to anyone. The Vault’s systems were specifically designed for his powers. Multiple redundancies, constant monitoring.”
I believed what he was saying. Deep down I did. But it didn’t matter. That name. That damn name.
“Then how is his old alias connected to all of this?”
Havoc’s expression darkened. “That’s what we need to figure out. But I promise you, Annie, he hasn’t escaped. Whatever’s happening, it’s not him directly.”
“I want to see him,” I said, my voice thin and brittle. “I need to see him with my own eyes.”
Havoc’s expression hardened. “Absolutely not.”
“Please. I need to know he’s still there. That he can’t—“
“No, Annie.” Havoc’s tone left no room for argument.
Something inside me cracked. The careful walls I’d built over years, the compartments where I stored my fear, my trauma, everything shattered at once.
“You don’t understand!” My voice rose, edging toward hysteria. “I need to see him! I need to know he’s contained!”
My hands clawed at my cuff. Every cell in my body screamed with the need to verify what Havoc was telling me.
“Annie, stop.” Havoc gripped my shoulders. “This is exactly what he would want—you, terrified, irrational.”
“I don’t care!” Tears burned hot trails down my face. “Please, Havoc. Please. Just let me see the feed.”
My breath came in ragged gasps. The room tilted and swayed around me, reality fracturing at the edges. All I could see was Halcyon’s face, all I could hear was his voice whispering in my ear.
“He’s in my head,” I choked out. “He’s always been in my head.”
Havoc’s face blurred through my tears. “That’s why you can’t see him. He still has his hooks in you, Annie. Seeing him would only make it worse.”
I sank to my knees, my legs no longer able to support me. The panic was a living thing now, clawing through my veins, squeezing my lungs until each breath was a desperate battle.
“What if he’s controlling someone? What if he’s using someone?”
Havoc knelt beside me. “Then we’ll handle it.”
I curled forward, arms wrapped around myself, rocking slightly. The rational part of my brain knew he was right. But that part was drowning in a flood of terror.
“I can’t do this again. I can’t live with him—“ I couldn’t continue.
The power contained within my cuff felt like it was pulsing in time with my racing heart. The power I’d taken from him. The power that could make me a monster too.