Chapter 31 · Who's Talking Now

"Say that again." Vera's gun pressed under my jaw. "And this time, use your own voice."

I tried to swallow. The movement scraped against the muzzle.

"I said, lower the damn gun."

The words came out wrong.

Not deep. Not rough. Not mine.

Hector Vane's voice rolled through my throat like a rusted machine starting up.

Vera's finger tightened on the trigger.

I lifted both hands, claws spread, and forced myself not to move fast. One twitch, and she would put a round through my skull. Maybe that would reset me. Maybe it would only give the Farm another corpse to drag into a tank.

Neither option sounded great.

"That was him," Vera whispered.

"No."

Hector's voice again.

Her eyes snapped to mine. The gun stayed under my jaw, but her wrist shook. Just once. A tiny tremor.

I caught it anyway.

"Jace," she said. "Talk to me."

I pushed air through my teeth. My throat cramped. I tried to force out my name.

"Jace Cole."

Hector came out.

Vera stepped closer. Her coat brushed my chest. The barrel dug harder into my skin.

"Who are you?"

"Jace."

"Wrong answer."

"It is not wrong."

"Hector's dead.