Chapter 22 · Ghost in the Machine

"Do you actually enjoy this?"

Nyx’s voice didn't echo in my ears. It vibrated in my marrow. I was screaming, but not with my throat. I was screaming with my mind, a frantic, silent howl against the walls of my own skull.

She was still there, perched in the driver's seat of my nervous system. I could feel her—cold, precise, and utterly dominant. My own arms weren't mine anymore. They moved with a fluid, lethal grace I’d never possessed, currently holding the comm-link to Victor’s encrypted channel.

"I enjoy efficiency, Kael," she replied, her tone dripping with a detached kind of cruelty. "Something you’ve always lacked. You fight like a wounded animal. I fight like a god."

She used my lips to smirk. I felt the skin stretch, the strange sensation of a facial expression I wasn't commanding. It felt like wearing a mask made of my own face.

"Let me back in," I snarled internally. "This is my body. My blood. Get the hell out of my head!"

"Your blood is currently a cocktail of cortisol and panic," Nyx retorted. She shifted my weight, leaning back against the cold metal of the alley wall.