Chapter 13 · Kill Order

Ryan's port burned cold against his skull. The words hung there in his vision like they'd been carved into his optic nerve.

KILL NATASHA VERNER. COOLING COMPLETE.

He was still on his knees in the cage. Blood from the collector's nose pooled under his cheek. The crowd noise had died down to this dull roar, like someone had stuffed cotton in his ears. His hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Natasha stood outside the mesh, arms crossed. She was watching him the way you'd watch a dog that just bit someone. Calculating. Her clinic coat had blood on the sleeve—his blood, probably, from when she'd jammed that first stabilizer into his arm three days ago.

"You good?" she called.

Ryan tried to answer. His jaw locked. The words in his vision pulsed brighter.

KILL NATASHA VERNER.

His right hand started moving on its own. Fingers flexing. He watched it curl into a fist and his stomach dropped because he hadn't told it to do that.

"Ryan."

He looked up. Natasha had one hand on her belt. There was a taser clipped there, the kind that could drop a horse. She'd moved closer to the cage door.

"Your port's flashing," she said.