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“Just one question.”

“Of course.”

“Did you send that cur to kill Dr. Dante or did it deviate from course on its own?”

The driver flicked a look up at Laura, then took a left onto the interstate.

“We’d never endanger Dr. Dante, we—” He waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter. He’s fine.”

“Then it disobeyed.”

Max made a sound that might have been a curse. “It was an anomaly.”

“I wouldn’t call going twenty miles off trajectory an anomaly.”

“Itwasan anomaly. The issue was a defect in the implant. We’ve doubled down since, and there’ve been no more incidents.” He almost turned around.

Was he afraid Laura would see the truth in his eyes?

“No, something went wrong. You just don’t know what.” Laura leaned closer, and one of the Wardens pushed her back. She shrugged him off. “Is that why you sent someone to the scene before I got there?”

Max looked at her then. “What are you talking about?”

“Dr. Dante suffered multiple lacerations from glass projectiles. Gaps in the trajectory pattern suggest several pieces with his blood on them were taken. His computer was missing. And tissue samples had been collected from the dead cur.”

Max tossed a look at the two men on either side of Laura, then the driver.

Laura smirked. “Well, looks like you might not be as in control as you thought.” Except it appeared the runaway cur might not be the only problem. “Now you just need to figure out who would benefit from Dr. Dante’s death. Not the Mah, because they’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get their hands on him. Not the Varu. What would they gain? The remnants of New World Genetics? Maybe, but he’s the only man on this planet who has an in-depth knowledge of how the ichor works, and losing him would mean no chance of ever profiting from what they had time to learn.” Dr. Dante might not know how the ichor was created or what it was made of, but he’d seen it in action, studied its response to the environment, watched how it transformed the dead into the living, and was there when Nash Kelli ripped through the laws of physics entering Phase three. “Or maybe a member of your perfect army just went after him all on its own.” And out of the millions of people in Georgia, why him? “If it went rogue, it’s unlikely you’ll impress domestic or foreign governments enough to give you the money you need to keep the Senate afloat. But I don’t think making your mortgage payment will be much of a concern. At least for you. Because when the other Senate officials find out about your side project, you’ll spend the rest of your life in an eight-by-eight prison cell.”

Max returned to staring out the windshield. “I guess this means you won’t help me with my presentation.”

“You mean your operation to synthesize the bite of a Mah so you can convince world leaders they need to tithe the Senate? Or the part where you put the lives of millions at risk when you lose control of the product you’re trying to sell?” Laura adjusted her grip on her shoes.

Max propped his elbow on the door and his angry expression reflected with the passing shadows cast from the trees. “How long do you think it will be before the world finds out about the Varu? How long do you think they can hide? Because I can guarantee you, it won’t be long. Not with a cell phone in almost everyone’s hand.” A tin container rattled, and the ghost of his hand plucked a white dot from a flash of metal before the sun erased the image. When his reflection returned in the shadows, it chewed in time with a muffled crunch.

The scent of mint joined the offensive cologne Max wore.

Metal rattled again. “And when that day comes. When the public finds out we’re not at the top of the food chain like we believe, what do you think will happen?”

Panic. Chaos. Violence. The Mah wouldn’t have to start a war to destroy the human race.

It would do that to itself.

Max exhaled a frustrated breath. “We have a chance to lessen the impact. We can acclimate the public in a safe and controlled way.”

Max put a forearm on the armrest and twisted in his seat but couldn’t seem to bring his gaze up.

Not surprising to Laura. Cowardice was why men like Max sent others to die in battle.

“All it would take is a few mass sightings, a quick response, and the public would have the confidence we could defend them. The world would learn about the Mah and Varu and know we were still stronger.”

“Don’t the conspiracy theorists call that a False Flag?”

“Does it matter? We can rebuild what we once were.”

Laura tightened her grip on her high heel. “We were xenophobic, ethnocentric, and avaricious.” She braced the balls of her feet against the base of the console and dug her heels into the floorboard. “The only thing different between then and now is this delusion of control over something that is beyond our comprehension.”

Max’s face reddened. “Your father said something similar once.”

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