Page 92 of Victorious

“If you do choose to leave this room, you will also be leaving your post.” Rios’s knuckles flushed white on the doorknob. Her freedom had always been predicated on her loyalty. Or at least, her service. If she was no longer an EON agent, she would be a prisoner.

“Sometimes,” mused Gabriel, “we have to make hard choices.”

Rios’s hand fell back to her side.

After a moment, she turned, and returned to her seat.

XIINOW. THEN.

LATER THAT NIGHT

THE IVERLY

IT was after ten by the time June got to the hotel.

As the elevator rose to the sixth floor, she wondered what had changed for Rios. She doubted it was simply time. She’d spotted the crack, all those months before, but something must have split it open. The panic in the soldier’s voice was new.

The doors slid open, and June started down the hall, spinning the room key on her finger. It was a heavy metal thing, the chip hidden somewhere in the teeth. The Iverly was one of those hotels that liked to hide its modern touches inside old-fashioned ones. A bit of sleight of hand she could certainly appreciate.

When 601 came into sight, June slowed.

The door was open. Not all the way, but cracked ajar.

June frowned, and drew the gun from her coat pocket, thumbing the safety off as she brought the muzzle to rest against the wood. She leaned her weight against it, and the door fell open with a plaintive groan, into the suite.

June let the gun swing up as she walked in, finger on the trigger, expecting trouble and finding—

Rios.

Sitting on the sofa in the center of the room, hands laced and head bowed.

June lowered the gun.

Given the EO’s voice on the phone, the urgency approaching panic, she’d expected Rios to be pacing, restlessly, to burst out with a “finally” or even a “thank god you’re here.”

But the soldier just sighed, shoulders slumping. “You came,” she said, sounding almost—disappointed?

“Well, you asked so nicely,” said June, shutting the door firmly in her wake. “What’s going on?”

Rios looked down at her hands. “Are you religious?”

June let out a short, humorless grunt. “I was, once. Not anymore.”

“People talk about belief like it’s a choice.” Rios splayed her fingers. “But it isn’t always.”

June frowned. “What does this have to do with EON?”

“Sometimes,” she said, “faith feels like something you can’t fight. It feels like—” She cut off, as if the words were stuck in her throat. Rios curled her hands into fists, and as she did, her body wavered. Edges shimmering. For an instant, June could see right through the soldier. And then she was back. Too late, June understood what she was witnessing.

A glitch.

Rios looked up and met June’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said.

June didn’t have a chance to ask what she was sorry for.

Rios drew her weapon, June’s already in her hand.

The soldier was fast.