A grinning Athleisure sauntered into view in all his bearded glory, a luminous Iriguchi casually tapping his thigh, the wet pavement behind him a mirror in the sun. He wore joggers and a generously sized sweatshirt, still rocking his cap and wrap-around sunglasses. One side of his face was a little worse for wear, an impossible eggplant-purple bruise where the flaming battery had touched down.

My face screwed up, my eyes welling. Athleisure had just murdered Dia in cold blood. Shit, he had a watch fastened tight around his wrist. Dad’s missing watch. My breath caught in my throat, the ticking deafening now. Motherfucker. He must’ve found it in the alley after I lost it. But if I paid the watch any attention, he’d know exactly who was piloting this bot.

He took in the scene—my bot crouched on the floor of the van, Matt’s behind me, both of us clearly not offline. Then he clambered inside with the certainty of a predator.

Matt and I scurried back like his cornered prey.

Mom whispered frantically into her phone.

“So here’s the deal,” Athleisure said, his voice like hot gravel, breath foul enough to peel paint. He crouched coolly in front of us, the Iriguchi dangling in his fingers, his joggers mended in a dozen places by an unskilled hand. Even with his eyes hidden behind those sunglasses, his gaze bored right through the TV and into my soul.

I evened out my breathing. How the hell did a bot have bad breath?

“I’ll give you two options,” he continued. “Option one. You cooperate, stay connected to your bots so I know you haven’t run, and I follow the console’s tracker to wherever you’re piloting them.” He slipped something from a pocket, a polished stone card with a constellation of pinprick lights on the surface—just like the card we’d used to find Laramee’s lab.

A bone-deep shiver wracked my shoulders. If Athleisure had a card too, he could track us right to our apartment.

He tucked away the card. “Then we’ll have a little chat there—without the bots. A fresh start. You have my word you won’t be hurt.”

“Mom,” I whispered, quivering with fear, “we need to run.”

She held up a hand. “Hear him out, buy time for the backup crew to arrive…. Our odds aren’t good if we run and he catches us without them.”

She wanted to stay? Why was it so hard for me to trust Mom’s judgment, trust that her union buddies could save us? The past half hour had demonstrated we couldn’t go it alone, but … sitting here doing nothing? Really?

I summoned the strength to form words, somehow making my bot talk via BrainLink, a man’s voice like a purring engine. “I have no reason to trust you. Option two?”

Athleisure inclined his head, a cool gaze lingering on me. “Option two. I put more holes in your bots. Bigger holes. Makes extra work for me. Then I track you down anyway—and we still end up chatting. Only without you having my word.”

Hot tears clouded my vision as I sunk my fingers into the carpet, pushing back the fear. “How about we chat right now,” I made my bot say. “I’ve got plans later. You know, dinner, homework, shampooing my armpits.” Crap. I’d just revealed information about myself, my general age. Too late.

Mom gave me a tight nod, her lips pressed to a line.

“I’d prefer to talk in person.” Athleisure’s wolfish grin broadened, canine teeth to cut glass. “So which’ll it be?” He tapped the hand cannon against his leg again.

The living room fell away. My whole world was that screen. Was his hand trembling? Like was he tapping the gun from impatience … or to cover up shaking?

He followed my bot’s gaze to his hand—not sure how that worked—and his expression clouded with frustration. Then he turned back to us with a scowl as if pissed we’d noticed his weakness, his knuckles blanching on the railgun. But there was a bitter twist to his lips too, a stoop to his posture. It was the same way some teachers looked out on their rowdy students, weary resentment simmering.

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“A question first,” I said to him, “so I can make the right decision.” So I could buy us time. “You’re not with Otokotronics, right?”

His brows drew close. “Not anymore.”

Interesting. “You used to be Executive Guard.” That would mean there was another one of him somewhere—the human original. “And you’re looking for the Talisman, aren’t you?”

“Who isn’t? Look, choose now or I’ll choose for you. Make this easy for all of us.”

He wasn’t ever looking for the game system back in the alley, was he? It was always the Talisman. But why bother if he didn’t work for Otokotronics anymore? My mind swirled with questions. “Last one. Promise.” I leaned forward, channeling my desperation into bluster. “On a scale of one to ten, how much fun was it murdering that defenseless girl last Saturday?”

He growled, a low rumble, his lip curling.

Pretty damning. “Worth a shot,” I said in my bot’s voice. Could there be an option three? The risk was it required Matt to be paying attention; I wasn’t confident I could talk to him now without my bot speaking too. But if this worked, it’d buy us all the time in the world for Mom’s buddies to arrive. “Well, I’ve gotta hand it to you. We’re pretty screwed. I guess you can drive us home. Like, right fucking now.” Please, Matt.

“Wonderful,” Athleisure said. “This way is best for every—”

The screwdriver slipped into my bot’s waiting hand.

Thank you, Matt. I bared my teeth and lunged at Athleisure with every ounce of force my bot could muster.

Delicious surprise flickered over his face as he yanked up his Iriguchi.

But before he could get off a shot, I plowed into him with a savage football tackle. We cannonballed out the back of the van and smacked into the wet street.

Holy crap, it actually worked. My bot’s coursing strength flowed like a drug. My leg felt like it would split in two. I scrambled astride him, my pulse pounding.

He tried to lever up, grasping at the Iriguchi where it’d skittered away.

I raised the screwdriver above my head, our bots frozen together like a grotesque statue.

Athleisure stared up at me with a defiant grin that turned my veins to ice.

Jaw clenched, I plunged the screwdriver through his sunglasses, deep into an eye socket with a sickening squelch.

His arms fell, his head lolling back.

Oh my God. I fucking did it. I took out Athleisure.

Matt cheered and slid from the van, his wrists still bound. “Daaamn, girl. That was brutal.”

I let out my last ten seconds of held breath, my hands shaking. “Literally couldn’t have done it without you,” I said in the living room. I hefted a stowed pistol from the lifeless bot and the Iriguchi from the blacktop.

“Backup is almost here,” Mom said. “Hang tight.” Her tee was soaked with sweat, her phone pressed to an ear.

“What if there’re more of them?” I craned around the corner of the van, the Iriguchi clutched tight. The remains of a T-boned Civic straddled the street ahead, the van’s front bumper deep within it. Dia and a stocky man were sprawled facedown in the road, the rain-soaked pavement running red.

I dry-heaved, a wrist to my mouth. Were we supposed to sit here with bodies in the street? People were peeking out of their townhouses now and a siren swelled in the distance. Garrett was nowhere to be seen.

Something splashed behind my bot and my heart dropped into my stomach.

I spun to find Athleisure on his feet with a devilish grin. A teardrop of blood slid down one cheek—the screwdriver in his face still sunk to the hilt.

“Had to reboot,” he said, snatching the hand cannon from my bot before I could react.

I froze, clutched by dread.

Matt shouted and barreled toward him headfirst, his hands bound.

Athleisure leveled the gun and fired. A roaring jet of gas spewed into Matt’s chest.

He howled beside me in the living room and his bot tumbled to the pavement with a crunch. Half the screen winked out.

I screamed, squirming back against the futon.

Athleisure’s grin vanished. His one-eyed gaze through those sunglasses pinned me to the carpet. “Now get in the fucking van.”

Mom dashed toward the power strip, too late.

My whole body trembled. “Or what?”

He leaned in, his neck muscles carved from stone, an icy menace to his posture.

“Or I’ll see you again in ninety seconds.”

His gun arm jerked toward me—and my view went dark in a swirl of agony.