The Devil You Know

by Kit Rocha

  There were deeper differences, though, like his voice. Gone was its steady, calm timbre and cadence, the one that would always tell them the truth, even if it hurt, but in the gentlest way possible. It was scratchy now, wavering from one note to the next. And Mace’s body language was all fucked up, tense and twitchy and—

  And Mace was staring at him, too. Studying him intently—and with a tinge of decidedly professional curiosity.

  Gray sighed. “Knox told you about my implant.”

  “He didn’t have to. I fought you, remember? You weren’t at a hundred percent.”

  How embarrassing. Gray felt his cheeks heat, and he cleared his throat. “I managed to hold you off, old man.”

  “Because I—” Mace’s voice cut off abruptly. “Because I wasn’t—” It happened again. This time, his jaw clenched, and the cords of muscle in his neck strained. Then Mace relaxed, shook his head, and sipped his coffee. “I’m not at a hundred percent, either.”

  “Fair enough.” Gray hesitated, but he had to ask. He had to. “Do you know anything we don’t? Has there been some sort of medical advance?”

  “To treat implant rejection? No. It’s always been possible.” The more Mace spoke, the more comfortable he seemed, and the words flowed. “The surgery itself is simple, in theory.”

  “In theory?”

  “Sure. Remove the old implant, debride the site, install the new one. The trickiest aspect of the surgery itself is rewiring the implant interface.” He looked away. “What comes after, that’s the rough part.”

  “The healing. I remember.” After the initial surgery to place and wire his implant, he’d spent two solid weeks in a veritable bubble.

  “Fuck what you remember,” Mace countered.

  It sounded so much like him that Gray had to dig his fingernails into his thighs to keep his expression neutral and even. Maybe this was the secret, the thing Knox had been wracking his brain trying to figure out—how to bring Mace back to them.

  So he nodded and gestured for Mace to continue. “Go on.”

  He hesitated, then pushed his mug aside. “The problem is that you’re not starting with a clean slate or a healthy patient. With a replacement surgery, you’re operating at a dangerous disadvantage, on someone who’s already suffering complications.”

  “But it can be done,” Gray pressed. He had to find out—for Maya’s sake. Because of the way she’d looked at him the night he’d collapsed. “You know the procedure.”

  “There is no procedure,” Mace told him flatly. “It’s too risky. The probable mortality rates kept the TechCorps from ever bothering to develop a protocol, much less perfect it.”

  So that was it. End of the line, no more possibilities. It was strangely freeing, like he’d had the weight of uncertainty hanging over him, and now it was gone. Sure, it meant the pronouncement of his death sentence was complete and final, utterly certain … but at least something was.

  Still, that look on Maya’s face haunted Gray. “Feel like giving it a shot anyway?”

  Mace’s answer was immediate, blunt—and Maya would have slapped him for it. “You may as well have let me stab you in the head the other night.”

  Gray couldn’t help it. He barked out a laugh, one that almost drowned out the soft click of a door opening upstairs. In moments, Knox and Nina began to descend the stairs, both obviously fresh from the shower, their hands not twined but brushing as they moved.

  When Nina caught sight of them, she smiled, a brilliant, bright expression. But when she spoke, her voice was soft. Careful. “Good morning.”

  Mace grunted, and Gray suppressed his flinch. Mace being okay was so goddamn important to Knox that she’d make it happen—by sheer, indomitable will, if necessary. She’d drag Mace into the warmth and cheer of the life she’d built here, and she’d sit on him to keep him from fleeing like his ass was on fire.

  Mace had always been the most determined and stubborn of the Silver Devils, maybe the most obstinate person he’d ever known. But Gray wasn’t sure who would win this battle of wills, this steel-cage matchup between Mace’s trauma and Nina’s unwavering smiles.

  With Knox’s heart on the line, smart money was on Nina.

  “Mace.” Knox’s fingers touched Nina’s one last time before they broke apart. He circled the table and slid into the seat at the end of the table. “Sit rep?”

  Mace didn’t answer. He was busy casting nervous, sidelong glances at the kitchen, where Nina was peering into the refrigerator. Knox followed his gaze, his jaw tightening, but a moment later he’d locked down the expression.

  Knox was in Captain Mode.

  He leaned forward slightly, bracing his elbows on the table. “James.”

  Mace’s gaze snapped to his, and he frowned as he raised his mug. “You want a situation report? The coffee’s good. I made it extra strong.”

  Knox smiled. “Just how we like it.”

  But falling into old, familiar rhythms couldn’t be so easy, not with a stranger in their midst. The focus and ease Mace had displayed only moments earlier vanished. His mug dropped to the table with a thud, and he began to count under his breath, the rapid words barely audible.

  Gray’s chest ached.

  Knox’s voice stayed soft and even. “What do you need, James?”

  Mace’s hand jerked, upsetting his mug. Gray reacted out of instinct, reaching for a kitchen towel as the steaming liquid spread across the table.

  But the quick action made things worse. Mace sprang from the table, his chair scraping loudly over the floor as he dove blindly for the exit.

  Knox bolted out of his chair, but Nina intercepted him. He stopped, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the door Mace had disappeared through. “I’m going to tear Tobias Richter apart one piece at a time.”

  “Yeah.” And Gray could only hope he lived long enough to see it.

  “We’ll get through to him, Garrett.” Nina rubbed Knox’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard, and it’ll take some time, but you will have your friend back.”

  “He won’t be the same.” Knox flexed his hands—the hands he’d shattered trying to beat his way through indestructible polycarbonate to get to Mace. “None of us are the same after they break us. At least I had a mission to live for. I don’t know what to give him.”

  “Something Richter can’t fathom—your love.” She touched Knox’s face next, made him look at her. “I don’t think they broke him at all. Not if there’s enough of him left to fight like this.”

  “Nina’s right.” Gray tossed the soaked, smelly towel in the sink and leaned against the counter. “Before you came down, we were talking about my implant. He seemed … almost steady. So that’s the purpose we can give him. The mission. We let him take care of us.”

  “He always has.” Knox turned his head enough to kiss Nina’s palm, then stepped into the kitchen and grabbed his own mug. “Any news on your implant?”

  “I knew it!” Dani’s voice echoing down the stairs saved him from having to answer. “I fucking knew it!”

  The room seemed to fill at once. Dani swept downstairs, a sheaf of papers clutched in one hand, with Maya right behind her. Rafe and Conall came in through the back door, their brows knit in confusion.

  “I knew it,” Dani repeated, enunciating each word triumphantly. She slammed the papers down on the table, then recoiled in disgust. “Ew, why is the table sticky?”

  “Long story,” Nina told her. “What’s up? Did you find something?”

  “You bet your ass I did.” She shuffled through the stack of papers, then stabbed her finger down on one. “This.”

  Curiosity drew them all closer to the table, and Gray flicked the stack of papers. “What are these—dossiers?”

  “Employee files for TechCorps Executive Security. I printed these out when I worked there. I thought they might prove useful someday.”

  “You did what?” Conall stormed to the table on a wave of outrage. “You printed them? Jesus, what is this, the 1900s?”

  “
I like hard copies,” Dani shot back. “Hard copies can’t be scrubbed out of existence. Anyway, shut up, you’re ruining my moment.”

  “Wait a fucking minute.” Rafe had drifted up behind Conall, looking amused, but his expression sharpened as he lunged at the table and snatched up the piece of paper. “Are you kidding me?”

  Dani’s eyes gleamed as she grabbed Rafe’s shoulder and leaned over his arm to peer down at the paper he held. “I told you, didn’t I? It’s him.”

  Rafe squinted. “I mean, it’s his face, for sure. Younger. But definitely him.”

  Conall snapped a picture of the paper, then flipped open his tablet and propped it facing the whitewashed brick. The image filled the wall. Most of it was black-and-white text, but the image—a simple, serviceable shot of a man’s head and shoulders—was in color.

  Gray inhaled sharply in recognition.

  “It’s Savitri’s bodyguard,” Dani explained. “I thought I knew him from somewhere, and I was right. Ryan Lemieux—former Ex-Sec grunt and current dead person.”

  Nina crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “Real dead or fake dead?”

  “Dead dead. Or so I thought. Killed in the line of duty.” Dani pointed at the projection. “I remember when this happened. Someone tried to kidnap the scientist he was assigned to, and he got shot in the head protecting her.”

  She said it casually, as if it were to be expected—but Gray supposed it was. Protectorate soldiers may have had tragically short life expectancies, but executive bodyguards?

  To the TechCorps, they were downright disposable.

  “Ryan Lemieux. On it.” Conall drew a second tablet out of a pocket on his cargo pants and started tapping at the screen.

  “You won’t find anything,” Dani told him. “Like I said—scrubbed.”

  “Watch me,” Conall muttered, his fingers flying. But his brows had drawn together, and his glare deepened as he started to jab at the screen. “Where the fuck are you?”

  “The TechCorps doesn’t like bad outcomes, remember?” Gray muttered. His own pristine medical record was proof enough of that. “You’re chasing your tail, Con.”

  “Nikita Novak,” Nina read aloud. “This scientist—do we know anything about her? What was she working on?”

  “Hold on.” Another round of furious typing against the screen, and Conall’s scowl deepened. “What the fuck? She’s gone, too.”

  Maya wandered over to the table, cradling her mug of coffee. She peered at the projection, her brow creasing. “Nikita Novak…” she murmured. She reached out for the back of the chair next to Gray but froze, her fingers resting against it. “Nikita Novak. Got her.”

  Gray pulled out the chair, then guided her into it when she didn’t move. She didn’t seem to notice. “Nikita Novak,” she said again. Her voice had fallen into its rhythmic cadence. “Father, Dimitri Novak. L2 scientist, Bioengineering. Mother, Jaya Novak. L1 specialist, Neural Networks. Nikita Novak was promoted to L1 specialist in 2075, at age twenty-seven. Lead Scientist, Guardian Project.”

  Maya blinked, then frowned. Her voice returned to normal. “Birgitte could never figure out exactly what the Guardian Project was, just that it was something military. But if Nikita was promoted to L1 specialist status at twenty-seven, she was a scary kind of smart.”

  “The scary kind of smart who could disappear, change her name to Savitri, and build an infamous criminal nightclub?” Rafe drawled.

  “Probably.” Maya squinted past him. “I don’t think I ever saw a picture of her, so I can’t say for sure. And whatever she did, she didn’t pop up on Birgitte’s radar very often. With parents like hers, she was basically TechCorps royalty. Birgitte wasn’t exactly recruiting for the rebellion from the ranks of people with everything to lose.”

  “Legacy’s a tricky thing,” Gray agreed. “You never know what you’re gonna get—a kid disillusioned with the whole thing, ready to tear it down? Or a true believer?”

  Nina’s watch beeped. “We’ll have to handle this later. That’s Dakota. Her boss is ready to meet with me.”

  Maya hopped up. “It’s Market Day, isn’t it? I want to come.”

  “Knock yourself out. Knox and I will meet with Montgomery, and the rest of you can do some shopping.”

  Dani gathered her papers. “I’ll go get Rainbow.”

  Rafe started for the door. “I’ll let Mace know. See if he needs anything.”

  As they scattered, Maya hovered next to Gray. “Are you gonna come, too?”

  After his conversation with Mace—and his friend’s subsequent meltdown—the last thing he wanted was to be in a crowd, surrounded by people. But as Maya stared up at him with big eyes and a shy smile, he found himself unwilling—unable, even—to disappoint her.

  He was going to be hurting her enough already by dying.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” he assured her. “But I’ve never been before. You’ll have to show me around.”

  Her smile grew. “It’s a deal.”

  NINA

  On Market Day, Jaden Montgomery held court on a raised platform overlooking the bustling maze of stalls and tables that spread out to fill his little corner of Atlanta. The half walls of the gazebo-like structure dampened some of the noise—voices and laughter, crates slamming together, even chickens clucking—but didn’t block it out completely. So while vendors and shoppers went about their business below, Jaden sat up here, tending to his own.

  And there was plenty of it. People came to Oakland from all over Atlanta to speak with him. Some needed favors, and others wanted him to invest in their ventures. Still others had disputes for him to settle, interventions that both parties had agreed for him to mediate.

  It was easy to see why people considered him an authority figure. His practical and financial influence was readily displayed by the market he oversaw. In addition to vendors who flocked to the site to take advantage of the foot traffic, the market was filled with goods his band of smugglers had attained at great personal risk. Plus, he was a big man, powerful in every sense of the word. His stern countenance made it seem like he was always glowering, even when he smiled.

  Or maybe it only seemed that way to Nina because he loathed her.

  It wasn’t fair, but she understood. Fair didn’t usually come into play when matters of the heart—especially jealousy—were involved. And Jaden Montgomery was one jealous son of a bitch.

  The reason for that jealousy stepped forward to greet Nina and Knox when they approached the platform. “Nina!” Dakota grasped her upper arms and pressed a fond kiss to her cheek. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You, too.” Nina returned the gesture and studied her friend and former lover. Dakota’s dark, curly hair was pulled back from her face, and dark circles shadowed her brown eyes. “You look exhausted.”

  “Long run. And by the time we made it back, it was a hustle to get ready for this morning.” She glanced over at Knox, tilted her head, and smiled. “Who’s this?”

  At least Knox didn’t seem jealous. He smiled, warm and easy, and held out a hand. “Garrett Knox. Nina rescued me.”

  “Yeah, she’s good at that.” Dakota shook his hand then raised both eyebrows at Nina. “He’s cute.”

  “And he knows it.”

  Dakota burst out laughing. At the back of the gazebo, where he sat in his big chair that might as well have been a throne, Jaden’s glower deepened.

  Nina tilted her head toward him. “Your boss is looking stormy today. He hasn’t forgiven me for romancing you.”

  “Ignore him. He’s naturally cranky.” She rolled her eyes, then gestured for them to follow and led them through the small crowd. “Jay, you remember Nina.”

  Jaden leaned back in his chair, one elbow resting on the arm, his eyes filled with lazy arrogance. The sun burnished his deep-brown skin, and even dressed in denim and flannel and his hair cut with military precision, he managed to look like a king already bored by an interloper.

  His gaze skimmed dismissively over Nina befo
re jumping to Knox. His brow furrowed. Next to her, Knox tensed. The two assessed each other in increasingly fraught silence as the promise of violence filled the space between them.

  Dakota sighed, perched on the other arm of Jaden’s chair, and leaned in close to his ear. “It’s customary to greet guests, asshole.”

  The tension broke with his abrupt, booming laugh. “Even when it’s your ex-girlfriend dragging some fucking TechCorps muscle behind her?”

  “Former TechCorps muscle,” Knox corrected mildly.

  “I assume former if you’re running with Nina,” Jaden shot back. “She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s no traitor.”

  Coming from him, it was a definite compliment. Well, as close as Nina was going to get. “Thank you, Jaden.”

  Dakota shook her head. “They’re here about that thing I told you about.”

  “The children.” Jaden’s eyes froze over, and Nina realized that every glare of irritation had been just that—mild, casual. Because this?

  This was anger.

  He lifted one hand and crooked a finger. A massive bear of a man with pale skin, a buzz cut, and a spattering of silver in his reddish-brown beard straightened from where he’d been watching them and ambled over, his stern face breaking into a smile.

  “Nina!”

  “Lucas.” She grasped his outstretched hand and returned his half hug, half pat on the back.

  “Been too long, girl.” He pulled back. “Tell me you brought Dani. I found a couple toys for her on my last run.”

  Dani and Lucas enjoyed a casual, occasional sexual relationship that Rafe would no doubt despise. “She’s shopping.”

  “I’ll find her.” Lucas pivoted to face Jaden. “What do you need, boss?”

  “Nina has intel on another group trying to run cloned kids through our territory. I want them found.”

  Nina handed over the data stick that Conall had prepared. “This is everything we have—surveillance footage, satellite imagery, every bit of information we were able to scrape together.”

  Jaden rose from his chair. “I’m going to put out a call now, just in case. But if no one’s spotted them, I want you to run the whole network for her.”