Chapter 9 · The Trigger Word

"Say the trigger word."

Reina sat across Marcus's desk with one hand pressed to her temple. The ward around the office had already split twice. The next break would let whatever Shadow had buried in her head finish the job.

"I can't," she said.

"You put it there."

"Shadow did. I don't have the sequence."

The coffee mug between them hummed against the desk. Its runes glowed under a skin of dark red light. Marcus had maybe thirty seconds before the ward failed completely.

"So we wait for your handler to blow us both to hell?"

"He won't. Not while I'm—" Reina stopped. Her fingers dug harder into her skin. "He's listening. He's always listening."

"Then let him hear this."

Marcus leaned over the desk. He caught the smell of cordite on her jacket and saw thin cracks spreading through her pupils.

"Your family's been dead for three years."

Reina went still.

"What?"

"Your mother. Your little brother. The Veil told you they'd trade them for one more mission, didn't they? One job, then everyone goes home."

"You're lying."

"The Kiev safehouse burned during a Syndicate extraction. No survivors."

Her hand fell away from her temple. "No.