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“I’ve known since the night of the attacks.”

His face contorted, so many emotions passing over it at the same time that I winced seeing it, then winced again as he cried out, simultaneously driving a syringe into my good arm. I yelped and tried to pull away, but he wrapped his other arm around me to steel me in place, and I whimpered as he roughly drew the blood from my arm. When he was finished, he pushed me away so that I stumbled, careening into a wall with a small grunt. Nobody moved to help. I rubbed my arm, but knew that wouldn’t elicit any sympathy either. The needle mark was already healing.

I’d given a blood sample before leaving the sanctuary, but apparently Micah hadn’t gotten to it. Probably because he’d rushed out with the others to come and save me. I swallowed hard as he pulled a white, palm-sized cassette from his pocket and injected my drawn blood into one side. Then he held the cassette still, watching the other side for a reading.

All the blood left in my body drained away. I could reason with them to read the manuals, convince them I was ambushed by Regan and Liam, but all I could do while Micah scrutinized my blood was wait, breath held, even though I knew what the results would be before he lifted his head and addressed the rest of the group.

“Positive,” he said, voice rasping. “She’s immune.”

“You knew,” Warren said, stepping toward me, and the look on his face was the same that’d been there when he’d reached for Joaquin. Micah reached out to grab me again.

“No, no,” I said, panicked now, jerking away from Micah as my words tumbled out. “Read the manuals! You’ll see. She kissed me…I didn’t know that’s what she was doing. The Shadow agent who was with her was surprised as well. He thought she meant to kill me.” And as I heard myself defending things that were indefensible, I wondered how I could have been so taken in.

“Who is ‘she’?” Warren wanted to know.

“Regan…uh, DuPree is her last name. She’s an initiate; the Shadows use them to track agents of Light, and that’s why she doesn’t show up in the manuals. She gave me Joaquin’s address, then told him I’d be coming. I trusted her because…” Because she’d lied, I realized, doing a mental head slap. She’d lied about wanting me to come to the Shadow side, and her desire to sit at my “right-hand side,” and I’d believed her.

God, had I wanted to believe her?

Warren backed up a step, his body language no longer quite as threatening, though he didn’t let up with his words. “And this Regan lured you to the aquarium and told you Joaquin would be at Master Comics?”

“I wouldn’t say lured-”

“She’s the one who followed you to that downtown rooftop, where we were all gathered below, sitting ducks-”

“She was alone,” I protested.

“No, Olivia. You were with her.”

And I had nothing to say to that.

“She knows who you really are doesn’t she?”

It was the first time Hunter had spoken. I glanced over at him, surprised. I’d almost forgotten he was there, leaning near the door, one foot propped on the wall in a pose that looked relaxed, almost benign. How deceiving.

I bit my lip, but it was in the manuals anyway. And I was done lying. “Yes. For months now.”

“And you let her live?” Disbelief swam on Felix’s face.

“She’s an initiate. I thought she was harmless. She-”

“She had information you wanted,” Warren interrupted, taking up the interrogation again. “She bribed you with the one thing she knew would convince you to spare her life. Bread crumbs leading to Joaquin’s door. Meanwhile she lied to you, betrayed you, and persuaded you to betray us.”

“I haven’t,” I said. “I swear.”

Warren looked at me like I was a mentally incapacitated two-year-old.

“I swear I didn’t,” I said again. “I didn’t know there was a virus until I saw that woman in the alley, and I have no idea how it’s still being spread among the mortals. The initial exposure came with the fireworks off the roof of Valhalla, but Regan said those susceptible to infection had to be within falling range of the spores for it to take effect. That’s all I know. I swear on my mother’s life.”

There was silence as they contemplated my words, weighing them as a group while scenting the air to test my sincerity, checking for lies as they studied my face. I knew if they decided I was lying, I’d never leave this room alive. Finally a sharp inhalation.

“Give us a minute alone,” Warren told the others without looking at them. When nobody moved, his mouth tightened. “Alone!”

His voice was barbed, with the ruthlessness that made him the only choice for troop leader. He played the fool, sure, but a truly foolish man wouldn’t have done it so well.

“I warned you of this, Joanna,” he said, using my real name when the room had emptied. “I told you this vendetta against Joaquin would be used to harm us all-”

“It hasn’t! Not…yet.”

“But they’ve found a way to exploit it, haven’t they?”

I shook my head. “Regan’s working alone, I’m sure of that. If she weren’t I’d already be dead.” We all would, I thought, remembering Warren’s anger about the rooftop.

He joined me on the edge of the bed, though there was nothing companionable about it. I resisted the urge to inch away, and found I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Let me tell you something about initiates, Joanna. You don’t know this because you came to us late, but for those raised in the lifestyle, there are certain things that can never be done. One of those is disobeying a senior troop member when given a direct order. If Regan’s been contacting you regularly, drawing you along on a wild-goose chase, it’s not by her own design. Somebody’s pulling the strings behind the scenes. She’s merely-”

“The puppet,” I finished for him, Joaquin’s face looming in my mind as he’d been, smirking and sure, hours before. We’d both been played like puppets. I ran a hand over my face. “But she said she wanted me to join the Shadow side; that’s why she let me live. Zell or Sloane or any of the other Shadow signs would’ve killed me on the spot. That’s what Liam intended. They all want me dead.”

“There’s one who doesn’t. And he’s the one who cannot be disobeyed.”

I shook my head. “No. The Tulpa doesn’t know who I am. If he did he’d have come after me himself. He thinks he has a right to me, like I felt I had a right to Joaquin.” I looked up at him now, eyes imploring, desperate for him to see I’d never intended to injure my troop. “I’ve searched him out for so many years, Warren. And I have both more to gain by his death and more to lose with his existence than anyone else-”

“But-”

“But I was wrong,” I provided, and saw surprise bloom in his expression. “You were right and I was wrong. I disobeyed and unwittingly put you all in danger, and I did all those things you said…except one.” I placed my hand over his, ignored the stiffening muscles beneath mine, knowing the contact would strengthen his ability to read my sincerity. “I never betrayed you. I never even thought of it. I defied you, but I swear there was no malice in it. And I promise, if you’ll just give me another chance, I won’t be taken in again.”

Warren jerked his hand away, and now it was he who wouldn’t meet my gaze. “It’s more than that. Awe at some unidentifiable power can easily mutate into admiration. Especially if a person’s been convinced that power is theirs for the taking.”

Trouble or not, anger surged at that, and I catapulted from the bed’s edge, whirling to face him. “Feeling the Tulpa’s power last year in Valhalla didn’t make me hunger for it, Warren! It made me realize how much I’m lacking, and how much more strength and experience I need if I’m to survive it again!”

“So you decided to seek it out for yourself.”