Chapter 20 · The Flesh Puppet

"Don't shoot me. Shoot her." Nolan shoved me behind the broken console as the woman in the doorway raised an alloy blade.

I hit the floor hard enough to bite my tongue. Nolan's shoulder slammed into mine. Heat flashed through the neural link between us, sharp and bright, and my vision jumped.

"Get off me," I snapped.

"Gladly. Move first."

The woman stepped into the control room.

My hand froze around the pistol.

She had my mother's face.

Not close. Not similar. Exact.

The same narrow jaw. The same dark eyes. The same tiny scar beside her left eyebrow. Even the loose brown braid sat over one shoulder the way my mother wore it when she worked late in the lab.

The blade in her hand gleamed silver under the emergency lights.

Nolan grabbed my wrist before I could raise the gun.

"Ev. Look at me."

"That's my mother."

"No."

"You don't know that."

"I know she's trying to cut my head off. That's usually a bad sign."

The woman tilted her head.

Then she smiled.

My mother's smile.

My stomach turned over.

"Evelyn," she said.

The voice hit harder than the face. Soft. Warm.