“Bowen.”

“Working on it, Doc.” Gripping the regret in a granite fist, he began to run through a mixed martial arts sequence in his head, concentrating on creating perfect angles with his body and nothing else.

Chapter 20

Fixed the computronic fault in your oven before work today. I demand mocha cupcakes with chocolate icing as payment.

—Message from Hugo Sorensen to Kaia Luna

“YOUR SUBJECT’S FALLEN asleep,” Kaia murmured to Attie, her gaze on Bowen’s face. Not relaxed, even now. But perhaps a touch less hard. “Do you want me to wake him?” It was a reluctant question; he needed the rest.

Day one out of a coma and Bowen Knight already made more demands on himself than any man she’d ever met. Even asleep, he had a drive and an unrelenting focus to him that was a silent storm.

“No,” Atalina said absently. “I have the scans I needed with his eyes open. The rest will go more smoothly while he’s asleep.”

“He won’t be happy when he wakes.” A stark rush of unexpected affection had her brushing her fingers over his hair again. She wondered if he ever truly rested when at full strength, or if he rode himself brutally hard day in and day out.

Kaia knew the answer, had read it in the relentless lines of his face. “I think I’ll make some blackberry pies,” she murmured as Attie continued to stare at the large screen on the wall beyond which lay Bowen’s room, her attention on the intricate mapping of his brain.

“You know that’s not my favorite,” her cousin muttered five minutes later. “I like cherry.”

But Kaia was still going to make blackberry. Bowen’s sister had thrust the list of Bowen’s favorite foods into Kaia’s hand on the day of the kidnapping, a hopeful desperation in her eyes.

And though Hugo’s assertions had been loud in her head, Kaia had carefully saved the list. Just in case Lily’s brother woke up. Only he wasn’t simply that any longer. He was Bowen Knight, a dangerously compelling man and security chief in forced exile.

“Attie.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever think about what Hugo said?” Kaia’s mind remained in tumult, caught between the evidence gathered by her closest childhood friend—and the reality of a man who burned with honor. “The things I told you.” Atalina and Hugo weren’t close, never spent any time together except when Kaia was holding a get-together and had invited them both.

Attie took a minute to set up the next scan before she sighed and came to sit in her computer chair, turning it so she faced Kaia. “You know what I think of Hugo.”

“I agree he’s not the most reliable person.” Hugo wasn’t the friend you’d call if you needed someone around at a particular time. “But he’s always been very clever with comms.”

“Yes,” Atalina agreed. “He’s capable of having hacked into the information exactly as he said, but . . . Kaia, I know you adore Hugo, but why would he make the effort? He’s one of the most self-centered people I’ve had the misfortune to meet.”

“He is not.” Kaia folded her arms. “He spent hours searching for the exact spice I wanted that time he went to the markets in Mumbai. And he built three different mazes for Hex.” Those were just two recent examples of his generosity—Hugo had been there for her since they’d first met as children.

Even while traveling with her parents, Kaia had commed with Hugo regularly.

Atalina rubbed her hand over the hard curve of her belly. “You’re right—he’s different with you. You bring out the best in him.” She got up, stretched out her back. “Which is why I do think about the dossier.” A lingering glance at Bowen. “Hugo might be a poker-addicted screwup, but he’s never involved you in anything questionable.”

Though Atalina wasn’t the most empathic of people, her brain more scientifically wired, she met Kaia’s gaze and said, “I can’t tell you if you can trust a word out of Bowen’s mouth, Cookie.” The old childhood nickname fell easily from her lips. “What I can tell you is that any decision you make, you need to make quickly.”

Because the countdown in Bowen’s brain wouldn’t pause to give her time to sort through her confusion. “I hate this.” It came out harsh, rough. “Why now? Why him?”

Atalina smiled softly at her, not misunderstanding her questions. “Even I know we don’t get to choose.” Smile fading, she said, “But take care of that soft heart of yours, Kaia. Right now, Bowen can guarantee you nothing but fourteen more days.”

Hearing the ring of a tinny bell, Kaia went over and rescued Hex from the maze. His little heart was thumping, but she knew it wasn’t in fear. He was a stubborn mouse determined to figure out the maze.

As stubborn as the man who’d thrown Kaia’s world into chaos.

After taking a minute to pet Hex, she slipped him into a pocket of her dress . . . and returned to stand near Bowen.

Chapter 21

“I feel like I died in there. I’m a ghost now.”

“No, you’re a new Cassius. But you’re still my best friend.”

—Cassius Drake (13) and Bowen Knight (13)

BOWEN SNAPPED AWAKE in the scanning chair when Kaia shook his shoulder, and though he’d planned to call Malachai, Cassius, and Lily, he barely managed to make it to his room before his body shut down again. His last thought wasn’t that he might never wake again should the chip or compound suffer a catastrophic failure, but that he wished he had Kaia’s curves snug against him.

The next time he woke it was to find he’d slept for fifteen hours. The part of him used to getting up at four a.m. and working eighteen-hour days was aghast, but he knew there wasn’t much he could do about the whole coma-and-implant situation. His body had suffered a terrible insult and it’d take time to return to full speed.

The one thing he could do was make those calls.

First, however, he had a shower and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a dark brown shirt with epaulets on the shoulders.

Shoving a hand through his hair, he ignored the gnawing in his stomach as he walked out of the bathroom. Food could—“Kaia.” A strange and painful warmth bloomed inside his chest at seeing the covered tray beside his bed; it had appeared while he’d been in the shower.

Lifting the cover, he found a glass of orange juice, a banana sliced over a small bowl of cereal, and a shallow glass dish full of walnuts. Snacks to tide him over until he made it to the kitchen. She must’ve been keeping an eye on the feed from the data panel, been alerted when his readings altered. Even the cold, hard security chief part of him was disarmed by what she’d done with the information: taken care of him.

He ate and drank all of it before going to the panel and attempting to contact Malachai. The call went through but it was audio only—and even then, the connection was spotty. Bowen had the feeling it wasn’t because of the station’s location, not when his phone had a better connection. The BlackSea security chief must be in a place that interfered with a clean line.

“Malachai,” he said. “I’m sure you know by now that I’ve arisen from the dead.”

“. . . news.” Malachai’s voice came through only in pieces. “. . . talk . . . back.”

Bo tried to clean up the comm signal by boosting it on his end. “You hear me?”

“Yes, but it’ll probably break again soon.” The other man’s tone was difficult to read.

“Dangerous allegations are being made against the Alliance,” Bowen said, cutting right to the chase. “I need to know the details so I can hunt down the truth.”

Malachai’s next words had Bo’s shoulders tensing. “You didn’t tell me the Alliance wants to set up its own shipping line through BlackSea-controlled regions.”

“New relationship,” he replied. “Seemed bad form to bring that up when we’d barely begun talking.” The line crackled again. “Why did you let Dr. Kahananui bring me on the station if you distrust the Alliance?”

“The information came to light after the initial arrangements had been made. If I pulled the plug prior to a full investigation, I killed you.”

It was exactly the decision Bo would have made. “When was Hugo taken?”

“Three weeks ago. One week after I contacted your sister about the experiment, and two days before we brought you down.”

More static on the line.

“Will you send through the suspicious Fleet movements so I can track them on our end?”

“. . . the city.” Heavy static. “. . . tomorrow.”

The line went dead a second later and wouldn’t reconnect.

Bo thought about trying to touch base with Miane Levèque instead but discarded that option after a moment’s thought. It was Malachai who’d be in charge of this investigation, and it was Malachai with whom Bo had a relationship. He’d find out tomorrow if the other man intended to share the Fleet data—and it’d tell him how bad this was, whether BlackSea had already made its call for or against humanity.

He used his phone for the next call; if he’d been a security chief with a possible threat in his territory, he’d damn well have made sure to tap this comm line so he could monitor any calls that threat might make.

Cassius’s grin cracked the pale gold skin of his angular face when he laid eyes on Bowen. “Damn it, you asshole. Took you long enough to get in touch.”

“I keep falling asleep,” Bo admitted. “Which is why I’m going to talk fast now. I tried to loop Lily in but her line is busy, so you’ll have to fill her in.” Not bothering to pull any punches, he told his second-in-command about BlackSea’s belief of Alliance Fleet involvement in the vanishings; Malachai’s cool responses had made it clear Kaia wasn’t the only one who thought Bo and his people might have something to do with stealing and harming BlackSea changelings.

“Well, fuck.” Cassius put his hands on his hips, his strikingly clear gray eyes as piercing as a wolf’s. “Do we need to get you out of there?”