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distorted, but she could make out two men in suits congratulating each other. Coyle couldn’t quite see who they were no matter how hard she tried. But she had to guess one of them was Moreci. He may have been in charge of creating these horrid experiments—and, ultimately, Fang.

She looked up at the ceiling, rubbing her eyes, hoping to erase the evil she witnessed. For the first time, she wanted to help Fang, the poor creature. No one deserved to be put through that. She sighed before gathering the papers and moving-picture box. She never heard the shapeshifting Veiul approaching from behind.

***

Poes leaned over and sifted through Coyle’s pile. Every paper contained notes regarding the physical and physiological training of young men and women.

“What were they getting at?” Poes asked himself. “What were they looking to do?”

The silence from the other room had been drawn out too long, and Poes listened intently for a long few moments.

Nothing.

“Coyle?” Poes got up and dusted off his trousers. “Coyle? Are you–”

“Hello,” Veiul said, brushing her hair back. “Sorry, I got a little lost there.” She stood in the doorway with her hands behind her back. Her disguise was perfectly complete, able to fool the Templars.

“Coyle, good heavens, you were gone for a bit longer than I thought. Where are the blueprints?”

“Ah,” she said. “I don’t think we’ll need them. A lot of them didn’t make sense to me. Engineers could make sense of all that, but not us.”

Poes frowned. “I thought that’s why we had Bolt. He’s the aeronautical engineer.”

“Ah,” Veiul smiled. “That’s right. That’s right. So what did you find here?”

Poes glanced behind him. “Well, that’s what we were about to talk about. Wait. What’s that smell?”

There was a shout, and Poes saw flames licking the ceiling at the opposite end of the hallway. Vonteg ran up to them, coughing.

“There’s a fire! We need to get out of here!” he shouted.

“Back up to the house, quickly!” Poes shouted as hot, smoky air rushed toward them. Spouts of flame leapt from another room as they ran down the hall and up the staircase. They pushed open the bookshelf and discovered tongues of flame licking the ceiling and walls.

The three of them rushed outside into the yard. Vonteg and Poes were coughing through their hands, the heated smoke nearly killing them in their escape. Veiul waved at the arriving soldiers.

In moments, soldiers and federal prisoners were dousing the remaining timbers with fire hoses and pails of water. Vonteg, Poes, and Veiul sat on a low wall, catching their breath.

“You three are lucky to be alive,” Sergeant Tanner said.

“We appreciate all the help, sir.” Veiul smiled. “But we really need to get back to our people and sort everything out.”

“One thing at a time, miss,” the soldier replied. “One thing at a time.”

And as soon as I get all of them together, I will slice their throats. One neck at a time. Veiul smiled.

***

She breathed him in...

He smelled of manic sweat. The air was filled with impatient purpose and madness.

“My wrists hurt, Ronan,” Coyle said, tugging at the restraints. “I thought you were going to make love to me, not tie me up for the asylum.”

“Hush,” he said, extinguishing the candles one by one until only the faintest glow from the streetlamps reached through the dark. Ronan’s face was tinged with cold light, his visage becoming a nightmarish phantom. His eyes studied her as if she were an experiment. He held something in his hand. Small and bright. Sharp and deadly.

“What’s that in your hand? Ronan, let me go. What’s happening?”

The eerie dark collided with rising panic in her mind, creating terrors she had never experienced and yet, she knew, would never leave her. With every tug and pull, she became overwhelmed by the obvious: there was no escape, and she was going to die. He shoved a rag in her mouth.

“Stop fussing. I just want to give you my reason, understand? I respect you, and now you will respect me.”

He thumbed the scalpel while her muscles strained against the leather wraps. Her hands and feet were cool and numb, but her chest, neck and face were blazing hot. He sat next to her in the shadows, his voice nothing more than an echo in the dark.

“I’ve always been curious as to how my mother carried so much power. Everyone, including my father, respected her. Gave her the attention she deserved. She was like that ever since she spit me out. So much power, respect, fear. And, like I said, I was curious where her power came from and guessed it was from something inside. Deep inside. I had to find the answer to this mystery, right? If it was inside, I just needed to find it, and then I could have it too.

“So, I had to kill Father first, because he certainly wasn’t going to let me find power. He was easy to kill. And then Mother. I opened my mother up and looked. Humph, couldn’t find anything. I was so sure it was there. Baffling and frustrating all at the same time.” His eyes searched the ceiling, the scalpel tapping against his lips.

“Time went on, and I grew older, wiser. I noticed some women held the same power over a man, but in a different way. Mostly prostitutes or the occasional wanton wife. I knew they had the same power deep inside, and I opened them all up, right down the middle the way I opened up my mother. I still haven’t found their power, so... elusive. Yet I know if I keep searching...”

He leaned in with his blade, and his fingers slid across her skin. The warmth of his touch brought hope.

Just for a moment, she knew all of this had to be a joke, and he would stop and untie her and laugh at all the silliness and fright he had given her, and they would hold each other until the sun appeared on the horizon, and everything would be safe

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