Page 72 of Pretty Little Assassin

“You muted us,” Zero said about the wire. She didn’t raise her voice. Zero never does, which is worse.

“If I could do it over again, I'd move faster. I'd save her.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s not the part I’m angry about.”

I’ve been replaying it for two days, and here’s the truth: I’ve been counting since the gala. Fourteen seconds, the way I count through every bad thing that happens to me. Fear burns off in fourteen seconds, the way it’s supposed to.

Grief doesn’t. I get to fourteen, and she’s still dead. I get to a hundred, and she’s still dead.

So I put down the grief and pick up the rage instead. Rage, at least, has a target.

“I’m tired of just sitting here. I need to do something.”

“What do you want to do while we wait for the intel?”

Viktor glances pointedly at his lap. One hand is buried in my cat’s fur, while the other rests on the thigh I straddled the other night. His eyes are already watering, but even the Wraith is a slave to Mr. Pickles’ whims. Two days ago, he smashed through the Valentine Gala. Now he’s petting my cat between sneezes.

I know that the second we have something actionable, Viktor will help me hunt down and execute the shit out of my stepfather. Still, it feels like wasted time being stuck inside this safehouse doing absolutely nothing.

Other than fucking, of course. It shuts my head up for a few hours, but the rage always comes back. Now I need to point it at my stepfather.

As if on cue, my phone rings.

An encrypted video call bearing Donnie’s familiar ringtone.

“What do you have for us?” My question hits as soon as Donnie’s face appears on the screen.

His eyes shoot straight to Viktor sitting behind me. And to Mr. Pickles, now belly up beneath Viktor’s palm.

“Ignore them.” I roll my eyes. “Tell me what you’ve found.”

“Trying to. But Valentina, your hot murder boyfriend is staring at you like he wants to commit crimes. I mean. More crimes. Different crimes?”

I glance behind me. Yeah, actually, Viktor does look like he’s ready to commit more acts of illegal persuasion. Good.

“Donnie.”

“Alright, alright, sorry, I’ll cut to the point. It’s not good news. Actually, it’s the worst possible intel, so sorry.”

“What is it? Spit it out already.” My rage barely covers my dread.

“Looks like your stepdad got access to VEIL’s protection list.” Donnie’s voice is high and tense; he knows what this means. “We found one of our operatives. She’d been tortured.” His voice cracks. “He wanted her login.”

Shit. The thing I feared most. He’s going after the omegas I’ve spent my adult life protecting. And I can see the trap for what it is.

“We got a message from the Director⁠—”

“Don’t call him that!” I snap.

Donnie’s voice quakes. “F-from your—from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” Donnie shuts up and calms himself with an inhale. “Primacy teams are moving on all the omegas from the list. They’re spanning out across Toronto all at once. I’m tracking them,” he adds, before I can ask.

“He’s doing this on purpose,” Viktor says, rising from the couch.

“It’s bait.”

His attention shifts to the phone. “The question is what he expects you to do next.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzes.