The Hunt (The Cage 2)

“That’s too much time. Cassian said we only have thirty days to train and”—she did a quick tally—“at least five have already passed. The module must be halfway to the station by now. I can’t afford to lose another four days before it docks.”

“Three days, then. But that’s the soonest. You cannot run the Gauntlet if your mind ruptures.” His words had a ring of finality, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he cocked his head, eyeing her up and down.

“What?”

“You still do not trust me.”

She gave him a hard look. “It’s a little hard to get over the fact that you nearly killed me once.”

He looked down at his hands and then closed his eyes. For a second it seemed like he was meditating, but Cora had seen this before. The change that passed over them when they uncloaked. Facial muscles easing. Joints loosening slightly. When he looked up again, his eyes were clearing.

“I’ve uncloaked so we may speak honestly,” he said. Even his voice was different. Not quite as deep, words blurred together a little more. “I’m not in the habit of apologizing to humans, but for you, I will. You need to understand how much we are all risking for this initiative. For you.”

Her hand drifted to the base of her throat where he’d strangled her, as she nodded for him to go on.

“Cassian has spent nearly ten human years infiltrating higher ranks, and I’ve spent the last five. He became a Warden so he could find an ideal human candidate. I became a delegate, so I can work from within the Intelligence Council. If we’re found out, we’ll be as good as dead.”

“I’m risking a lot too.”

“I know that. Cassian knows that. But the other initiative members . . .” He glanced at the doorway. “Some are less certain of your potential. They want to know specifics of which perceptive abilities you have achieved, and to what extent.”

Her headache had returned. She started pacing, blinking hard against the pain. “Ask Cassian.”

“You don’t understand our ways. As a delegate, I may be his superior on paper, but not within the Fifth of Five initiative. We don’t ever question our superiors. Which is why I’m asking you.” He stepped closer. “I don’t need reassurance. I believe in you. But the others don’t know you.”

“The fail-safe exit,” she said, somewhat warily. “In the cage. I sensed that the exit was hidden beneath the ocean.” She didn’t mention the time she’d sensed Kindred standing behind a panel, or the time she’d read Cassian’s mind. Another thing Queenie had taught her: always keep your best cards close, even with people you think are your friends.

“That is all?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “I am sure Cassian will be able to further develop your abilities, but in the meantime, the others will be reassured. I will inform Cassian that you will be ready to resume training once your mind has healed.” He squeezed her shoulder a little too hard. “We are on your side. Remember that.”

As soon as he left, Cora slumped back against the wall. She rubbed her head, wondering if what he’d said about her mind rupturing was true. How far would she have to push it for that to happen? Would the damage be permanent?

A knock came from the shower room drecktube.

She stared at the drecktube door in surprise. It was waist high, locked so the wards could only open it a few inches to dispose of garbage. Hesitantly, she bent down.

“Chicago?” she whispered, feeling like she might be going insane. “Is that you?”

And then the door swung open, and she shrieked and stumbled back.

Massive shoulders. Short dark hair. A faded gray T-shirt covered in white, chalky dust. Black tattoos swirled around his left eye.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Leon said.

14

Cora

CORA CLAMPED A HAND over her mouth. “Leon!” She hadn’t expected to see him again, especially not here, especially not covered in grime. She threw her arms around him.

“I heard you chatting with your new friend,” he said. “Figured I’d wait for him to leave before stopping by for a visit. Kindred are the jealous sort, you know.”

“I knew you’d come back for us!”

The shower room door cracked open, and she swiveled her head around in alarm, but it was only Lucky and Mali, peeking their heads in.

“Cora?” Lucky said. “You shouted. I thought—” But then he caught sight of Leon. “Holy shit.”

Mali elbowed past him into the room, her eyes wide. For a second, Cora thought Mali might give Leon a hug, but she just punched at a piece of armor sewn to his shoulder. “What happened to you.”

Leon rubbed his arm where her fist had made impact. “Nice to see you again too, kid.” He gave Lucky a nod. “All of you. I’ve been shacking up with a Mosca operation. Not bad guys, actually, if you can make out what they’re saying behind those masks. Bonebreak, he’s their leader. Reminds me a bit of my uncle. Likes vodka. Snores too.” He motioned to a wrapped package on the floor that was letting off a smell even worse than the shower room drain. “They’re black-market dealers. They use the drecktube tunnels to smuggle their stuff around the station, and humans are the only ones flexible enough to crawl around in there.”

“Have you been looking for us this entire time?” Cora asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh . . . yeah. Sure have.”

“How did you come up through the drecktube?” Lucky asked. “It’s locked.”

“Not from the inside,” Leon said, but then scratched the back of his head as if avoiding something. “Actually, I, uh, found something in there. Someone. Sort of like a, well, dead guy. Don’t know if he was a friend of yours.”

Cora and Lucky exchanged a look. “Was he wearing driving gloves?” she asked. “And goggles?”

Leon nodded. “Charred up bad. He shouldn’t have been down there, eh? Those tunnels are death traps if you can’t navigate them.”

“He didn’t go down there intentionally,” Lucky explained. “His name was Chicago. The Kindred threw him down there. They do that to humans when we turn nineteen.”

“If we have misbehaved,” Mali clarified.

Leon eyed Mali warily, as if he was worried she might attack him again, but then his hand itched at the spot on his neck where the markings that paired with hers used to be.

“Listen,” Cora said in a rush. “If you can pass through the drecktubes safely, then we need you to do something important.” She told him about the Gauntlet and their plan to cheat it, which elicited a rare nod of approval from him. “But we need a girl for it all to work,” she continued. “Her name is Anya. She’s being kept i

n the Temple menagerie. Short blond hair, about ten years old, missing some fingers. We’re going to have to get her out of there somehow. See if you can break into their backstage area. If you find her, leave a mark with that chalk on the floor here, so we’ll know. Be careful. Don’t let anyone see you.”

“Tell her that you are friends with me,” Mali added. “She will trust you more.”

Leon raised an eyebrow. “Friends, is that all?”

Mali only blinked stiffly, and Leon seemed disappointed.

“Have you seen Nok and Rolf?” Cora asked, but he shook his head. “Try to find them too. We need to make sure they’re okay.”

Leon rolled his eyes. “Anything else? Chocolate milk? Gumdrops?”

Someone drummed on the shower room door sharply. “Cora.” It was Dane. “Get out here. Break’s over. Who’s in there with you?”

Cora shoved Leon back toward the drecktube. “Go. Quick.” He grumbled as he climbed in. She paused, holding the door open for a second. “It’s good to see you, Leon.”

He gave a reluctant half smile. “Yeah, sweetheart. You too.”

She closed the drecktube just as Dane opened the door. He froze when he saw her and Lucky standing so close, and Mali off to the side. His eyes slid over Lucky, tracing the shape of his body as though looking for imperfections. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing,” Cora answered quickly. “Sorry. I’m going.”

She started down the corridor and opened the backstage door, letting in the sounds of birds and clinking glasses, but a hand stopped her.

Dane had followed her. “Hang on, songbird. A word.”

Her heart thudded with fears—had he heard Leon?

“Look, I’m not blind,” he said, and then nodded back toward the shower room. “I can guess what that was. You wanted to sneak off to be with Lucky, and have Mali stand guard. Well, I can’t blame you—we don’t get many guys looking like him around here. But we’re here to work, and that’s it. Any privileges you had before—to date, to eat when you want, to take long baths—are over now. You gave that up when you failed out of your last enclosure.”