Chapter 8 · Traceless - Chapter 8: The Blood Lock

The lab tech wouldn't look at Cole.

Layla watched the kid—maybe twenty-two, HQ intern badge clipped crooked on his coat—set up the extraction tray with shaking hands. The room smelled like disinfectant and burnt coffee. Cole sat on the exam table, sleeves already rolled up, forearms bare under the overhead light. Blood crusted his left nostril. He hadn't wiped it.

"You don't have to do this," Layla said.

Cole's eyes stayed on the wall. "Yeah. I do."

The intern fumbled a syringe. It clattered onto the metal tray. He muttered an apology and grabbed another one.

Vera stood by the door, arms crossed. She'd changed out of the blood-stained blouse into a clean HQ uniform, charcoal gray with the Stone family crest stitched small on the collar. She looked like she'd slept. Layla hadn't. Neither had Cole.

"The command's already active," Vera said. Her voice was flat, the same tone she'd used when she told them about the seventy-two hour countdown. "Extraction won't stop the clock. It'll just move the trigger."

"Into me," Cole said.

Vera nodded.

Layla's hands clenched in her lap. "That's not a solution. That's just killing him instead."

"It buys time." Vera's gaze flicked to Cole.