My whole body tensed, a scream strangled in my throat, every muscle fiber aligned to dash behind cover. But I was too slow. I wouldn’t make it before Athleisure fired his—

A soaring buzz ramped up. There was another sharp pop as one of the drones plummeted to the roof thanks to its failing rotors—and the braided steel cable trailing a two-ton dumpster on a collision course with Earth.

Athleisure spun toward the sound, agape in the light of his Iriguchi. Then he leapt to one side, the flaming drone missing him as it screamed off the roof for its final flight.

But the drone's trailing cable whipsawed into his chest, pulled taut across his middle by the falling dumpster—slingshotting him into empty sky.

An eternity later, the dumpster’s crash echoed from the pavement below, the thundering boom resonating in my chest.

Holy crap. We crept to the roof’s edge, my belly fluttering from the height, Matt’s overpowered flashlight barely reaching the grisly scene so many floors down.

I could just make out Athleisure’s legs, motionless in a dumpster no longer shedding an infrared light show. The remainder of him rested in the plaza beside the flame-licked drone—still attached to the steel cable that had sliced him neatly in two.

Oh my God. It was over.

But Athleisure’s detached torso levered up from the ground, his fingers inching toward the Iriguchi lying where his feet should be.

I screamed and my knees went bendy.

As if in answer, the screech of a barn owl split the air—and none other than Dia Bosko, all denim and spite, came stomping into the plaza from the shadows of the alley.

No. How the hell did she find us?

Dia tsked at Athleisure and his mounting panic, casually reaching for the Iriguchi before he could grab it. Then she nestled the muzzle against his taped-up eye socket and fired, the muffled roar-sizzle echoing through the plaza.

Athleisure fell back with a decisive thud, his arms flopping to the pavement in the clearing haze.

My throat tightened.

Behind Dia, Matt’s RV pulled from the curb at the Thai place, lurching unsteadily along the street below—before hopping the curb into the plaza.

What the ...? Who was even driving that thing?

Dia glared up at us, Athleisure’s hand cannon clutched tight. “Darlings,” she called out, “I believe you have something of mine, and I’d very much like it back.”

Shit. She knew the Talisman was up here.

But the shadow of the RV bore down ever faster, flattening a sapling and making quick work of a flower bed. It swerved drunkenly around a planter, only to lose a side mirror to a eucalyptus.

Dia jerked the Iriguchi toward the revving engine, too slow. The RV plowed into her like a train at a crossing, sending her flying back into the office building—before pinning her against it with a resounding crunch.

I gaped in disbelief. Dia slumped into the hood under Matt’s dim spotlight.

Half of her did, anyway.

The front of the RV was folded in, its wipers swishing at nothing. A door finally creaked open and Garrett’s bot stumbled from the smoking wreck, a gash of exposed metal across his forehead, a turn signal pulsing behind him.

He craned up at us. “Sorry about all that,” he shouted. “Matt said you needed help, and when I got here I noticed he forgot his keys in the ignition. It was … my first time behind the wheel of a motor vehicle.”

“We could tell,” I called out. “But I’m really glad you’re here.”

Fatigue crept into my limbs, my neck smarting. I knelt to the roof under the weight of what we’d just been through. It really was over now.

Matt's hand squeezed my shoulder.

I was shaky from adrenaline, lightheaded from blood loss. “I’m okay.” We’d done it. We’d defeated Laramee—both of them—and shut down the portal. Now we just needed the Talisman to save Mom. I pushed to my feet and padded back toward the cop, who was still clutching his head and vainly pulling on the cuffs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Matt shouted after me.

“I need to have a word with someone.” My gaze drifted to the silver sedan puffing away on the street below. “Both of us do,” I added.

Matt nodded. His phone buzzed and he squinted into the screen, his brow lined. “Huh, got this weird text—to all matts, sister need help.”

My mouth flapped open.

Before I could respond, a small, muffled voice piped up from my backpack across the roof. “Quiet time over?”

Matt looked from me to my overturned backpack, his eyes wide. “What the fu—”

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

I rolled my shoulders. “It’s kind of a long story.”

#

Laramee, head hung, was being led to the stairs in cuffs.

Matt and I stood before Agent Summers, a smoldering HVAC unit beside us. Her badge hung from a lanyard, her eyes dark hollows under the portable work light. Other agents crept about the roof collecting evidence, much of it no longer on fire. A woman with Coke-bottle glasses and deliberate footsteps photographed the furrow a drone had left in the helipad while Garrett regaled her with the tale of his short-lived joyride. She grunted politely.

My neck pulsed under the FBI’s hasty bandaging job. Even though I didn’t exactly trust Agent Summers, we needed to talk. Mom’s fate still hinged on our discussion.

“I’m so relieved you’re all okay,” Summers said, her hands clasped.

Matt thumped his extinguisher into the roof, his feet sandaled once again. “You mean relieved we did all the hard work while you sat cozy in your Chevy Malibu?” He withered a bit under her glare. “Ma’am.”

She softened, giving him an eye roll of shared exasperation. “My hands were tied. Departmental policy. But maybe not something I have to worry about for long…. Do you have the item?”

I thrust a chin at Laramee’s silhouette disappearing into the stairwell, just a slumping shadow with my infrared off. “Why didn’t you know about Laramee working with Beard Bot? Or did you?”

Summers huffed. “We had no reason to suspect he’d started working with his double again—they’d parted ways years ago. The FBI isn’t omniscient. For instance, I suspect you have the item now, but I don’t know for sure.”

I sniffed at that. “And how could you force a child to steal money for you? All to stop people from leaving town? I don’t care if the Talisman is a national security threat. That’s just … sick.” I was banking on Summers thinking Aiden was still locked up in that basement.

Her jaw muscles rippled. “What do you want?”

My pulse raced. “Two bots.”

Matt gave me a big-eyed look.

Agent Summers flashed me a confused smile, a finger raised. “I believe our arrangement was for one.”

I stiffened, anxiety bubbling. She wasn’t going for it. “That was before I maybe had the Talisman.”

She shifted her weight. “What could you possibly want with more bots? The bad guys are in handcuffs—or split in two. It’s over.”

“You let me worry about that. I’ll send you my requirements.”

“Fine,” Summers said, a hand extended. “The item?”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to give the impression that’s all I wanted.” She really needed this Talisman, and at least so far, she wasn’t taking it by force.

She tilted her head. “Oh?”

“I want you to pay back all the money you made Aiden take from the people of Las Yerbas. With interest. Part of it was my mom’s.”

Matt choked out a cough.

Agent Summers gave me a sour look. “We’re the Federal Bureau of Investigation, not the IRS.”

“Do you want to get promoted or not?”

She tugged on her suit jacket, fighting a frown. “No interest.”

My face grew warm. “And I want my mom’s extradition order destroyed. Oh, and immunity from prosecution too. And how about Beard Bot’s watch? He kinda stole it from me.”

“I’ll ... see what I can do.”

“I’m gonna need that in writing.”

She leaned in, her hands on her hips. “Is that all?”

“You’re gonna buy me new sandals,” Matt blurted, his arms stiff in his pajamas. “Ma’am.”

Oh my God, Matt. He was going to screw this up for sandals?

Summers crossed her arms. “Excuse me?”

“Just like these.” Matt waved at his feet. “But from Birkenstock fall/winter new releases. The expensive ones. Full-grain leather, size twelve.”

No, you know what? We were a team now. If Matt wanted sandals, more power to him. Your move, Agent Summers.

She pressed her lips together, her fingers curled at her sides. “You got it. Expensive sandals.” She turned toward Garrett, calling out, “And I suppose you want something too?”

Garrett looked from Agent Summers to me and back again. “Oh, it’s so kind of you to ask! As luck would have it, I’ve been searching high and low for the Tal—”

I frantically drew a flat hand across my throat, shaking my head at him.

“Ko?” Garrett stepped toward us. “Are you okay? Is there something wrong with your neck?”

“I’m … I’m fine.”

Summers trained an incredulous glare on me. “The item, please.”

I reached into my pocket, my heart thudding, and pulled out the bloody tooth. A great weight lifted as I dropped it into Summers’ upturned hand. There was no turning back now.

“Where’s … the light?” she asked, her brow furrowed. “On the tooth?”

“Oh. It went off when it … lost power.”

She gave me a raised eyebrow before tucking it into a pocket. “Our tech team will verify that.”

I swallowed, picking at my red-streaked hoodie. “Did you know it was in me all along?”

Agent Summers smoothed her blouse. “We were prepared for all eventualities.” She turned toward the stairwell, a hand hovering at my shoulder. “Let’s head downstairs, get you checked out.”

All eventualities, like me nearly dying looking for a Talisman I already had? “What about Otokotronics? Won’t they still be searching for it?”

“Not for long.” She straightened, her lips quirking up. “First thing we’ll do with it is remote wipe all their bots in this world, make them into our bots.”

I blinked hazily. Wow, just like that, Otokotronics could be neutralized. And without a portal, they couldn’t transit more bots.

I let Summers lead us toward the stairs, exhaustion seeping into my robot bones. Garrett bounded to catch up as I casually scooped up my backpack, hoping my promise of chocolate was enough to keep Aiden quiet a little longer.

The eastern horizon had just begun to color, cotton candy clouds in pastel oranges and pinks reminiscent of infrared. I allowed myself a smile. “You know it never worked, right?” I called out as we ambled toward the stairs behind Summers. “The Talisman. Laramee’s bot couldn’t perform a transfer.”

“You let us worry about that,” she said without turning.

Matt hung back, elbowing me in the ribs. “Hey,” he whispered. “You know telling her that isn’t gonna change anything. They’re still gonna figure out how to make it work. Do terrible things.”

“I doubt it,” I said, a coy smile spreading, probably a little gappier than usual.

Matt shot me a puzzled look.

I stole a furtive glance ahead.

Then I slowed my steps and loosened a fist—a gleaming tooth inside.