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I was going to be incredibly pissed at her—especially if she held back details that got someone hurt or killed.

I turned my gaze to the road rolling by, and let my mind drift to the topic of the larger problem we were facing. Namely, how to undermine Desmond and Elena’s plans. We had already dealt them a blow by saving the king. Raising a rebellion for him was something I left to Ms. Dale and Viggo—I had no idea how to recruit people, and I trusted their guidance on how to proceed.

Yet with the hanging threat of the Matrians using the boys to fight through Desmond’s control over them, I couldn’t imagine it would be a straightforward battle. There was no way Ms. Dale, Viggo, or I would want to bring any harm to those boys. They were victims of a carefully planned deception. Who knew all the lies Desmond was filling their heads with, fueled by the Benuxupane that tempered their moods?

My mind circled around that. Whether it was by design or accidental side effect, Benuxupane did make the user more complacent as well as less emotional. I knew from personal experience. After all, Lee had used it on me when I had resisted his plan to frame Viggo. Which meant that the boys on Benuxupane would be much easier to turn into human weapons.

Which meant we needed to try to find the drug, all of it… and destroy it. That would effectively stop regular dosing, and if we could slow down or stop the drug’s manufacture, it would give the boys a fighting chance to at least decide for themselves where their loyalties lay. Which meant we needed to find out where the Benuxupane was being stored and where it was being made.

Of course, this meant we needed Thomas. His hacking skills made him essential for this mission to even have a chance of success. I looked at Owen.

“Hey, you still haven’t heard from Thomas yet?” I asked.

Owen shook his head, his attention on the road. “Not yet. I’m getting really worried, Violet. I know he thinks it’s almost impossible to get to us, and he hates taking action that will risk his own life, but he’s risking his life just by staying there. Desmond or the Patrians will find him while they’re investigating the bombings, and either way it’ll be bad.” He considered this for a moment, and then his eyes widened. “I wonder if she wants to frame him,” he said.

I nodded. “The next time he calls, you should—”

I paused as a high-pitched beeping sound blared through the cab.

“It’s the handheld!” Owen said, and he reached into his pocket, pulling it out. “Speak of the devil.” His eyes flicked over the screen long enough to see the name. “Can you take this?”

I was dubious as I accepted the handheld—Thomas and I did not have the best of relationships. Still, better me than Owen while he was driving. I carefully held the rather unfamiliar device in my left hand, and Amber came out of her sullen stillness to help me hit the button on the screen, connecting us.

“Owen, I—” came Thomas’ nasal voice over the line, followed by a pause as the video feeds synced up. “Oh, it’s you. Where’s Owen?”

His devotion to the blond man clearly made me pale in comparison, but that was okay by me. I tilted the small lens toward Owen. “He’s driving, but he can hear you,” I said. “Go ahead.”

“You were right,” Thomas practically wailed. “The fires in the warehouse district have gotten out of control, and in several sectors, the motion sensors I placed in the surrounding tunnels have been going off. At this point it’s only a matter of time until they find me!”

Owen gritted his teeth and nodded tightly—not that Thomas could see. I answered for him. “Time to get out,” I announced. “Do you have an evacuation plan?”

“Yes,” he said. “I have a vehicle stashed away in one of the neighborhoods in town. I can access it by the tunnels. I’ll wipe all the hard drives and head out.”

I frowned and looked at Owen to see what he felt about all this. “What about Solomon?”

“What about him?” Thomas replied defensively, and I took in a breath, concerned.

“Thomas, you can’t leave him behind,” I said sternly. “He’s a member of our team, even if he’s not in his right mind, and we don’t leave each other behind.”

“He’s a liability right now,” Thomas said plaintively. “It’s going to be hard enough getting myself out of this mess. Adding another body, my chances go down to—”

I gritted my teeth. “This isn’t about equations and numbers, Thomas. This is about people.”

Owen looked at me, his worry plain on his face, then shot a pleading look at Amber. I gave her the handheld, and she cut through Thomas’ blustering response.

“Tom-Tom, please? Solomon could get better anytime—and he’d be useful to you in case somebody threatened you. Plus, things might get even worse if he were found by the regime. They could find a way to cure him, then torture him to find out what he knows… you never know! And come on,” she added, “we don’t want to hear that you died in a sewer like a rat.”

It sounded callous, but I could sense the concern in Amber’s voice. And maybe some gallows humor was what Thomas needed to hear, because his blustering changed tone slightly. I couldn’t quite tell, but I thought it was working.

I took the handheld back again, pressing further. “You worked with Solomon for a long time, Thomas, right? You know that if things were different, Solomon would do the same thing for you. And so would we.” I swallowed my pride. “We need you, Thomas. But we can’t leave Solomon behind. That would make us no better than the Patrians you hate,” I finished.

Thomas’ voice sounded surly, and I got the impression he was staring at the floor, not meeting my gaze. “That’s an argument based on

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