“If you’re going to continue, then I guess I’ll stick it out with you.” He points to the map. “When I went, all I could do was observe the campus from the outside. But I’m sure there’s plenty more going on behind those closed doors than what I could glean from their servers or their front gates. We’ll need to head in at night, when there aren’t so many guards.”

I stare at the map, my fingers tingling. This is where Hideo’s mother had worked, and where Sasuke may have spent his childhood. From the map, it doesn’t look like much—a building of glass and steel, a single structure in a sea of thousands. How can one place hold so many secrets?

“So, tomorrow night?” he says.

I give him a half smile. “Done.”

He heads out into the alley. His emotions are packed away again, but his usual sneer is now replaced with something more open. “See you soon, Princess Peach,” he replies. This time, the nickname sounds affectionate. “And keep yourself safe until then.”

* * *

* * *

THE HOTEL WHERE the Blackcoats are staying is quiet tonight, and I’m the only one walking down its halls. I sigh as the door identifies me and lets me in. My mind is a whirlwind of clues and questions. What if the institute has covered its tracks? What if I can’t find anything? There’s not much time before the closing ceremony, and I still know so little about Zero.

Where is he tonight, anyway?

The instant I close the door to my room, I know something is off. There’s the faint scent of perfume in the air, and a lamp on the far end of the room is turned on.

“Out late?” someone says.

I whirl around to see Taylor waiting for me.

14

I freeze at the sight of her silhouette sitting casually in my chair, one of her legs crossed over the other. Weak light from the windows cuts a striped pattern against her. Even from the other side of the room, I can see her eyes in the shadows, studying me. She’s perfectly groomed, her hair combed neatly back, and her outfit is sleek and monochromatic, blacks and grays. I find myself unconsciously comparing her to the photo I’d seen earlier, of her in front of the institute.

“We heard you were out celebrating with the Phoenix Riders tonight,” she says. “Congratulations to your former team.”

Jax had trailed me, after all. I fight the urge to look around to see if she’s standing in here right now, somewhere I hadn’t noticed. “I don’t need you guys to chaperone me all over the city.”

Taylor uncrosses her legs, the sole of her shoe hitting the carpet with a soft thud, and leans forward to rest her elbows against her knees. Her eyes meet mine and lock me in. “Where were you?”

So, she doesn’t trust me. “I was out on the mission that you and Zero assigned to me,” I reply evenly. “Find a way to get in touch with Hideo. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She frowns. “And did you accomplish anything?”

I take a deep breath. “The Riders are going to let me use their private meeting with Hideo tomorrow.”

“Is that so?” At that, Taylor’s eyebrows lift in mild surprise. “Well. Maybe you are as good as Zero says.”

“I always earn my keep.”

“And is that all you did tonight?”

Here’s the real question she’d wanted to ask me, and why she was waiting for me here in my room. Be careful out there. Tremaine’s warning reappears in my mind. I narrow my eyes at her. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that someone accessed the Blackcoats’ image databases today, and it wasn’t any of us.” She studies me. “The timing makes me wonder if you know something about it.”

Image databases. Japan Innovation Institute of Technology. My heart leaps into my throat. Tremaine had been poking around in the corporation’s database earlier. I think of the maps he’d shown me, the interiors of the building. Is Taylor talking about him? What if he’d accidentally left a trail? Does she know what he took?

Stay calm, I tell myself. “It couldn’t have been me,” I reply. “I didn’t do anything except meet the Phoenix Riders after tonight’s game and have a conversation with them. No downloading, no hacking.”

She stares at me, but I don’t dare add more. The crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes crinkle as she studies me thoughtfully. A few long minutes pass.

Then, her stare softens, and she relaxes her shoulders. She glances toward the windows. “If Zero suspected you of breaking into our files, he would be here himself, interrogating you. And he wouldn’t be this civil about it.”

The thought sends a chill through me. “Then why are you here instead?”

“I’m here to warn you,” she replies, giving me a concerned look. “You don’t want to get in over your head.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

She looks doubtful. There’s a pause, and then she clears her throat. “How old were you when you first started bounty hunting?” she finally asks.

“Sixteen.”

She shakes her head. “I was young, too, when I started my first job. Back then, we lived in Estonia, and my father laundered money using the pharmacy he ran as a front. Drugs, you know.”

I watch her carefully. It shouldn’t surprise me that she had early ties to something illegal, given that she’s working for the Blackcoats—but I must look startled by her answer, because she gives me a small laugh.

“Ah, that surprises you. I don’t seem like the type, do I?” She looks down. “I was sharp for my age, and I could repeat things back, word for word, so my father had me run messages for him.” She makes a casual gesture with her arm, miming a back-and-forth action. “You don’t want digital messages lying around on phones to incriminate you. I could say what I was told to say and then forget it the second I said it. He told me I had a good memory. That it’s useful for lies.” She shrugs. “But he wasn’t as good at it as I was.”

I clear my throat. “What makes you say that?”

“I came home one day to see him sprawled on the floor, his throat cut and his blood soaked into our rugs. That copper smell still lingers with me.” The curve of her lips straightens, like she bit into something bitter. I shudder. “Later, I learned that a client of his had come looking for him, and he’d tried to lie his way out of it. The client hadn’t believed him.”

I swallow hard. Taylor doesn’t look at me as she continues. “After that, all I ever did was wonder about how the wires in my brain were hooked up. How those wires stop working the instant your body shuts down. I’d wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, dreaming of being alive one moment and then dead the next.”

She sounds like I imagine a neuroscientist would, someone fascinated with the inner workings of the mind. Had she moved to Japan to work at the institute? I try to picture her as a child with wide eyes and those straight, innocent brows. The thought of her getting away with lies so often seems pretty possible. “Why are you telling me this?” I ask.

“I could convince myself of a lie so well that I’d sincerely think it was true. Do you know what that’s called? Self-deception, Emika. Lies are told more easily when you don’t see them as lies. My father said he wished he had my ability to believe wholeheartedly in something untrue, because if you’re able to believe anything, then you can believe your way into happiness. That’s why I’m alive, and he’s dead. Because my brain could connect that wire, and his couldn’t.” She leans forward, looking earnestly at me. “Maybe you’re good at it, too. I imagine it’s a useful skill for a bounty hunter.”

Stay calm. “I’m not lying to you,” I tell her in a firm voice this time. “I didn’t hack into any Blackcoat databases—I wouldn’t even know where to look.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Taylor agrees.

Her voice sounds genuine, and her expression looks genuine, but I stay wary, waiting for her to make some unexpected move. What did you work on at the institute? And what, exactly, do you do for the Blackcoats?

“I hope you understand how important your role is.” Taylor gives me a nod before she rises from my chair and straightens her blouse. She nods toward the streetlights outside the window. “Look.”

Two new virtual figures appear to hover underneath each light, followed by a wave of cheers and boos from the revelers on the street. I recognize my own rainbow hair instantly.

IVO ERIKKSON of SWEDEN | ANDROMEDA

EMIKA CHEN of USA | PHOENIX RIDERS

At the same time, a message pops up front and center in my view.

Congratulations, Emika Chen!

You have been chosen as a

TOP TEN PLAYER

of the

WARCROSS CHAMPIONSHIPS VIII

Taylor smiles at my stunned expression. “You’re the only one chosen so far by write-in votes alone,” she says. “Very impressive.” As she walks past me, she says something in a voice just loud enough for me to hear. “I won’t tell Zero about our conversation, but let this be the last time we need to have one. I think you owe it to all your fans to perform well at the closing ceremony.”

Then she’s gone, leaving me standing in the middle of my room alone with all my questions.

15

Three Days until the Warcross Closing Ceremony

The few hours of sleep that I manage to get are plagued by nightmares, visions of myself standing in an arena, a woman sitting in my chair, a girl with short silver hair training her gun on me, Hideo pulling me close in a bedroom made of glass. I dream of Tremaine leaning against the wall at the Innovation Institute and watching the rain.

That’s what finally shakes me awake—the image of him standing there, unaware of someone watching him in the shadows. I jerk upright in bed mumbling his name, trying in vain to warn him.

By the time I meet the Riders at Asher’s place, I’m an exhausted mess, with dark circles prominent under my eyes. Secretly, I count my blessings that at least the event I’m attending requires makeup and formal wear, so that I don’t show up looking like a ghost.

Asher answers the door. “You look terrible,” he says, leaning one elbow against his chair.

“You too,” I reply.

He flashes me a grin before ushering me inside. “Well, Hammie’s going to do something about that.”