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Vadim said, “Double mobile patrol on the east side. Cover the gap.”

Lin didn’t write it down, just nodded and left.

I watched the spot on the monitor, the little gap between the camera sweeps. It was so obvious, in retrospect, but that’s how it always was: you only saw the holes after something got through.

Vadim looked at me like I was the most interesting bug in the collection.

I said, “You ever get tired of being the smartest man in every room?”

He shook his head. “It is exhausting to be the only one who is not a fool.”

I grinned. “That’s more honest than I expected.”

“You are not a fool,” he said, matter-of-fact.

I walked over to the corkboard, ran my finger along the blue thread. The last note, next to Parsons’s ID photo, was in Lin’s tiny, perfect handwriting: “Secondary location. ACTIVE. Proximity unknown.”

I traced the line backward, read the annotations, tried to see what they saw. The more I looked, the less it felt like a map of threats and the more it felt like a map of me: every route in, every possible escape, every way a thing could be taken from a place it didn’t belong.

I asked, “What happens when you catch him?”

Vadim’s voice was quiet, but not soft. “He will be gone.”

I kept looking at the board, at the little printed face of Parsons. “You ever think about just letting him have what he wants?”

Vadim was silent for a full ten seconds. “No.”

I nodded, and didn’t press.

We stood there, close together, in a room built for watching, and for the first time since arriving at the estate, I didn’t feel like prey. I felt like part of the system.

I thought Vadim understood that, too.

He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at me was different now: calculating, but also—if you squinted—proud.

The gap on the monitor was still there, but it didn’t feel quite so empty anymore.

* * * *

Later, back in the main corridor, Vadim walked ahead and I fell in step behind him. For the first time, the distance didn’t bother me. I knew the blind spots now. I knew where to run, if I had to.

At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped. “You will not leave the house alone.”

I laughed. “I know. That’s the only rule you haven’t broken since I got here.”

He turned, and for a moment, his expression softened. “If you want to see anything else,” he said, “you just have to ask.”

I looked at him, and believed it.

Then he was gone, striding down the corridor, already moving to the next disaster. I watched him go, and wondered what it would take to make a man like that change direction.

I filed the thought away. It would come in handy.

Chapter Thirteen

~ Vadim ~

The command center at this hour was a cathedral for the terminally unsaved. The hum of servers was litany, the wall of monitors a stained-glass for those who worshiped only at the altar of control. The air was artificially cold, sharper than the knife-edge of the power lines feeding it.