Saving Natalie might be a necessary evil—but that didn’t mean Nix wanted to think about it. About what Natalie could do. About what she might do, if she grew up into a bright-eyed, red-haired woman.

Necessary evil or not, Nix couldn’t swallow the idea of bringing that thing to the fade. The one place that Nobodies mattered. The only place where the real world couldn’t touch them or hurt them or mess with their minds. Sanctuary. Paradise.

“Covering Natalie with your collective powers is the only way to get her away from the scientists. Do you know what they do to her? They make her bleed. They hurt her. They make her hurt things. She doesn’t like it. She wants out.”

For a moment, the Sensor’s face changed, and his tone and words became someone else’s. Nix could almost picture the girl from the photograph saying these things.

They’re hurting me. They make me hurt things. I don’t like it.

And then the Sensor snapped out of it, and his words became his own again. “You need me if you want to destroy the institute.”

“Why?” Nix kept his voice even. “We know about the keys. We know where the children are. We know about the self-destruct mechanism. Why do we need you?”

Beside him, Claire’s mouth dropped open slightly, and Nix realized that the idealistic part of her wanted to save Natalie. Wanted to believe that she was just a little girl. And that was exactly why Nix couldn’t let Claire anywhere near the Null. Tender hearts were child’s play for Nulls, and Claire was an open book.

The Sensor clearly didn’t—couldn’t—feel betrayed that Nix was already reneging on his promise. Instead, he continued speaking in the same calm, neutral tone. “You need me to destroy the institute, because I can make your files disappear from the mainframe. The computer systems are set to automatically upload all content to off-site backup hard drives the moment the self-destruct sequence is initiated. Milano’s possessive enough of his research that he hasn’t uploaded it to the mainframe yet, so destroying the institute will destroy the formulas for the serums. Your files, on the other hand, are in the computer, and Ione has activated certain security protocols to remind us of your existence and the threat you represent. After the institute is destroyed, there will inevitably be some kind of investigation, most likely spearheaded by the European office. They’ll go through everything, talk to everyone. The people involved will likely forget about you and almost certainly won’t be able to provide any kind of details, but unless I destroy the electronic trail, you’ll have the whole of The Society nipping at your heels.”

With great effort, the Sensor flicked his eyes to Nix’s face and then to Claire’s, and Nix got the message loud and clear.

“Tonight, when I go back to the institute, I’ll remove your files from the computers and upload them on to an external hard drive. If you bring me Natalie, I’ll give you the disk. Ione and Sergei will go down with the blast, and in the chaos of reorganization, the two of you and X-17 and X-18 will almost certainly be forgotten in the aftermath.”

Unless, of course, the Sensor saved the files and gave them to the remaining branches of The Society, which he would gladly do if Nix didn’t give him Natalie in return.

“We give you Natalie. You give us—all of us—our freedom.” Claire put the terms of the agreement into words.

“Yes. Save Natalie. You must.” The Sensor’s eyes took on that fevered look again. “And the only way you can save her is to make her fade. She’s bright, so bright, so beautiful, that she’ll be hard to hide. The world won’t want to let her go. But there are four of you. Unprecedented. Absolutely unprecedented. You’re strong. You can save her. I know you can.”

Nix’s lip curled upward, and his fingers curled down, driving his nails into the skin of his palm. Fading was power. Energy. Release. It was his. The one thing that no one could take away. The only thing the universe had given him to make up for all it had taken away when he’d been born terminally unimportant.

Null. Faded.

To Nix, it was blasphemy. Like sleeping with a dead animal. Like rolling over and exposing your soft underbelly to a beast that wanted to tear out your entrails. It was stupid, and it was wrong.

Necessary evil.

Nix gritted his teeth and clamped down on the roar of emotions circling each other in his gut.

It’s not my job to kill Nulls. Not anymore. It’s not my responsibility to turn myself into a monster so the rest of humanity can live free and clear.

Numbly, dispassionate, Nix nodded his assent. If this was the cost of freedom, so be it. Nix met the Sensor’s eyes, even though the old man didn’t quite reciprocate the gaze. And then he said the one word that set things fully and irrevocably in motion. “Tonight.”

The Sensor nodded. “Tonight. The information I gave you says where. And remember: no Natalie, no files.”

Null. Null. Null.

Refusing to look at the Sensor or at Claire, Nix turned and slipped into nothingness, feeling like he’d left a chunk of himself behind.

Claire nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to find the right thing to say—like there was a right thing to say in a situation like this. Nix hadn’t uttered so much as a single word to her since they’d let the Sensor go.

He’d headed back to the cabin. Claire had followed.

He’d lifted one of the panels on the wooden floor, revealing a weapons cache much bigger than the one Claire had kept under the porch. She’d silently knelt beside him, laying out the spread as he unearthed wires, rope, and needles. Knives. Guns. Darts. An ice pick, several bags of white powder, and a variety of explosives.

“Take off your clothes.”

Nix’s voice washed over Claire’s body. Deep. Reassuring. It wasn’t until the words disappeared from the air that she realized their content.

“Take off my …?”

“I would give anything to leave you here. To keep you safe. But one of us has to initiate the meltdown while the other one gets the children. This isn’t a job for one Nobody. It’s a job for two. And even if it wasn’t, you’d come. Where I go, you follow. Even if I could keep you safe, you wouldn’t want it. I know you—you won’t even stay away from the Null.”

Null. Null. Null.

If Claire hadn’t already known how Nix felt about Nulls, the venom he put into that word would have told her more than enough.

“Take off your clothes,” Nix said, repeating the order. He stood and stalked out of the room, returning a moment later with two pairs of pants and two shirts: one for him and one for her. Not bothering to expand on his earlier command, he followed the advice he had given her, stripping off his shirt.

Sleek. Stone cold. Hard. His stomach looked like it had been carved from marble. Every muscle was tensed. Taut.

Ready.

Biting her bottom lip again, Claire brought her fingers to the end of her own shirt. Nix wrapped an Ace bandage around his middle, and with expert fingers, he began to weave and tie knots in it, twisting and turning the fabric to form pockets. Claire watched the motion, hypnotized, her own limbs still frozen.

Dagger.

Darts.

Some kind of double-edged blade.

Nix tucked the weapons into his makeshift halter. One wrong move, and he’d slice himself open.

Guns were strapped to his ankles. Wires were wrapped around his wrists. Claire stared down at her own hands—miniature compared to his. After an elongated moment, she lifted up the end of her oversized shirt, revealing an expanse of suntanned skin underneath.

Without a word, Nix came to stand behind her. Wrapping his arms around her body, he strapped a knife to her side, his fingers brushing against the flat of her back as he did.

“Do you know how to use this?” he asked.

“It’s a knife,” Claire replied. “You stab it.”

Nix almost smiled. Almost. He tapped her jugular. “Slice,” he said, and then he trailed his hand over her shirt and down her chest, until it rested inside her rib cage. “Stab. If you can’t reach the torso, go for the femoral artery. Here.” He indicated the place on her leg, his touch light. Then, carefully, he turned her around to face him.

“Hopefully, you won’t need to use the knife. From the fade, you won’t be able to.” And with those words, he went and picked up two guns. One for each of her ankles. Finally, he gave her back the SIG.