“My apartment is fitted with sensors that would’ve sent out a medical alert had I been incapacitated.” Her father was the one who’d suggested it—though Payal had sourced her own tech so he couldn’t sneak in subtle surveillance. The fact was, her tumors could grow in the time between scans, leading to a sudden collapse; a medical alarm was a sensible precaution. “Leave now.”

Muting Lalit’s response, she contacted her father through the comm, audio only. “Father, did you receive a medical alert?”

“No, but you weren’t responding to any attempt to contact you. I assumed you’d had a psychic breakdown.”

Breakdown.

The word choice was intentional, a reminder that she was “unstable.” Having been born with the intelligence to see through his manipulation was one of the strongest weapons in her arsenal. She’d been more vulnerable as a child, but she hadn’t been a child for a long time. “I had to deal with the possible collapse of the PsyNet over Delhi. I’m sure you heard of it.” No one in this area of the PsyNet could’ve missed the massive fissure.

Pranath’s pause went on a beat too long. “You were involved in that?”

“I’m an anchor, Father. The Delhi hub. What do you think I do? Now I need to be left alone to finish my work. Or would you rather the Net collapse and take us all with it?”

No response, but the maintenance crew outside her door began to disperse. Lalit shot a malicious smile toward the camera, and she knew this was just another imagined slight her brother was adding to his list of grievances. She’d never understood if his brain was miswired, or if it was simply his personality, but he hoarded grievances the same way he hoarded money and power.

The first thing she did was check the number of fatalities: twohundred and sixty-three. Three hundred and seven more noted as injured, half of them badly.

Her stomach lurched.

Forcing herself to breathe through the punch of it, she read through the rest of the bulletin sent out by Anthony Kyriakus on behalf of the Ruling Coalition. The city’s medical system had switched into disaster mode, had hauled in all standby medics, and was coping with the influx with the assistance of EmNet—which had organized the teleportation of more medics and supplies from outside the affected zone.

No one was missing out on medical care.

So much death and pain, but she had to remember it could’ve been far worse, or the thought would paralyze her. Canto?

I’m here.

Why were you watching when Lalit came?

I knew he’d try some bullshit, and you needed your rest. He sounded like he was growling, a ferocious dragon who’d hunched his lethal mind over her vulnerable form, his claws extended and teeth bared. Your data security kept him out of your files, but then the manipulative shit went running to your father. Few hours earlier and I’d have run that current through him without hesitation.

Payal had no idea which element of that to address first, so she did what she always did when she got overwhelmed. She broke his reply down into its component parts. And went straight to the point that shook her the most. Thank you for protecting me.

You never have to thank me for looking out for you. Pure voice, rough words.

She swallowed hard. I’ll be perfectly capable when I contact the Ruling Coalition.

I don’t care about that. I was worried about you, 3K.

What had once been a moniker that indicated pain and horror had become a thing far more tender. As if Canto had claimed it, put his stamp on it.

Payal stood motionless at her kitchenette counter, her eyes hot and her walls tumbling down all over again. She always ate in her apartment and ordered her own food via private delivery because she didn’t trust anyone in the house, not even those who’d professed their loyalty.

She’d been fine alone for years. She’d been functional.

And sad, whispered the lost, broken part of her. Sad and so alone. She didn’t want to be that way today, didn’t want to live in an isolated bubble where she could never let down her guard.

Canto was so dangerous to her—and her craving for him was a storm.

She looked down at her pajamas. A pair of thin cotton pants of blue with fine yellow stripes, paired with a white T-shirt in a silky fabric that felt good against her skin. My mind has regrouped, she telepathed to him, her heart a drumbeat. I might teleport to the oasis after I have my nutrients.

If he didn’t want to acknowledge her implied invitation, he could just tell her she was welcome to go there.

Nothing in her words made her need obvious.

Nothing laid her soft inner core bare to him.

No, Canto said. Come here.

The image that entered her mind was of a room with comfortable sofas of chocolate brown and warm wooden flooring striped by what looked to be midmorning sunshine.

Okay. Her fingers trembled.

Breathing slow and deep, slow and deep until her mind no longer skittered, she drank the first glass of nutrients with focused concentration. She couldn’t so quickly intake the second, decided to leave it for later.

Hurry, hurry, whispered the madness in her. Go to him. To 7J.

She thought about brushing her hair into its usual tail, thought about putting on the cosmetics she’d learned to use because they created a shield against the world. Then she thought about the image Canto had sent her. Her heartbeat jerked. She was near certain what he’d done, but it made no rational sense to her. Yet she teleported into that space—into danger—while barefoot and in her pajamas.

The ghost of the little girl she’d once been, wanting to see the friend in him.

Her mind responded with red warning sirens an instant afterward, but it was too late to take back her action. She’d arrived.

CANTO couldn’t believe she was here. All sleep-tumbled hair, a line yet marking her cheek from when she’d curled onto her side, her body clad in soft fabrics that made him want to touch, and her feet bare.

Her toenails were neatly buffed and polished with a clear coat, her toes small, as befitted her overall size. He’d never before noticed anyone’s toes. It was probably strange and creepy to find himself fascinated by them, but he couldn’t stop noticing things about her—couldn’t stop being fascinated by her.

His heart was thunder.

“Don’t get mad, but I got you food.” He scowled, aggravated by the shadows under her eyes. “Actual solid food.” Payal needed fuel, especially since he’d made her teleport here; he’d thrown the items together in the short minutes since she’d said she’d go to the desert … and he’d hoped she’d come to him.