

Seoul Circuit

By Tamara Boyens

Smashwords Edition

Supposed Crimes LLC, Matthews, North Carolina

All Rights Reserved

Copyright 2017 Tamara Boyens

Published in the United States

ISBN: 978-1-944591-37-3

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

They say money is the root of all evil, but whoever said that didn't have a massive neural mesh failure frying their eye sockets.

I slid into the parking lot of the diner, gravel spraying everywhere as I jerked the wheel, and the white Lotus rotated ninety degrees, perfectly slotting up to the diner window.

"Whatever happened to being discreet?" Royce said.

"I'm just making sure we have good parking. In case we need to get out of here quickly," I said.

"We should have taken another car. This is too recognizable," he said.

"As long as we're not in the city, it's fine. I could have done the deal at home, but this is safer. Trust me."

He scoffed. "If you say so."

I turned to him. "You scared?"

He shrugged his wide shoulders, flexed his fingers. "No. But I've got enough trouble already—spent too much time in the Undergrid. There's more shit going on down there than in all your casinos combined."

"Exactly. And you want to get paid, right? So just be cool, and everything will be nice and smooth."

He sighed. "I don't know why I'm even letting you drive."

"Relax. I'm in control of the situation."

"The more you say that, the more nervous I get."

I reached over and ruffled his short hair. "You need a vacation or something."

He jerked away. "Let's just get this done before you stroke out. As soon as we get back to Pasadena, I'm making you sit for a full scan."

"Sure, whatever you say. Let's go."

I opened the car's gull wings and stepped onto the rocky soil—wore flats just for the occasion. I smoothed down my white pantsuit and cracked my neck. The ache behind my eye sockets made me blink, shake my head a few times, but I couldn't let that distract me. I had a job to do, and we weren't leaving until I got what I wanted.

Royce stepped out the other side, still wearing a blue shirt, a red tie, and his white lab coat. I grabbed him right out of an appointment, but he'd had the entire drive to compose himself. He should be over it by now. I certainly paid him enough.

"Think you took up enough spaces?" he said.

I was parked horizontally across three parking spots. "Not like anyone else is using them. Check it out, Doris Day parking."

"You're lucky you have money," he said. "This kind of thing wouldn't fly in the Undergrid."

I grinned and pulled a deck of cards out of my pocket. "Life is all about luck."

It was July, but this far into the desert, it was still cold at night. The big glass front window of the diner poured light across the rocks and Joshua trees. Inside, a handful of customers sat at old tables and poked at greasy plates.

Halfway between my SoCal casinos and the Las Vegas wastelands, Barstow was trapped between temptations. With nothing much to do but get high and drive somewhere else for entertainment, I fished tons of clients from there. That's how I knew the owner of the place. Guy lost a boatload of money on a poker tournament, and I helped him out. He owed me. A lot. The diner was as safe as it got without leaving the state.

"After you," I said.

Royce pushed square black plastic glasses up on his nose. The silver strands in his buzz cut flashed in the moonlight. "I'm starving—skipped lunch. I'm getting a hamburger on your dollar."

I smirked. "Cheap date."

"Wait till you get my bill."

"If we don't get what we came here for, that'll be the last payment you collect from me."

He swallowed. "You know this isn't going to fix things."

"One step at a time. You'll figure something out, I'm sure. If I die, you can forget all that bonus money I promised you."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're demanding?" he said.

"I'm rigorous. And it's cold—get inside. He should be here any second."

Royce pushed open the stainless steel door with a thick fist and I followed behind him, shaking gravel from my soles before stepping onto the slick diner tiles.

Inside it smelled like grease and burned eggs, burned coffee. Sand. Sadness. This was where people stopped for a bite after leaving Vegas when they were too drunk to make it all the way back to Los Angeles. Cops avoided it for that reason—too much paperwork to deal with. Perfect for me.

A young girl came to the front holding a pair of menus. "Table for two?" she said.

"Booth. For three. In the back," I said. "By the other door." It was hard to see, but the place had a backdoor, right beyond the kitchen. Always good to have an escape route.

The girl eyed me, clearly wondering why I knew about the other entrance.

"Is Hector in?" I said.

She shook her head. "He's out of town."

Heh. He wasn't in any of my casinos, so that meant he was in Vegas again, skimming the bottom for crap bets. Judging from the shoddy look of the place, he was in deep again. I made a note to contact him once I'd settled my own issues. The little diner was an ideal spot for me to make clandestine purchases.

I nodded, and we followed her to the back booth, plopped down on torn blue vinyl seats. In the harsh fluorescent lights, every inch of Royce's dark circles sagged beneath his eyes. He worked hard, I'd give him that. Business was brisk for him on all sides, and in my mind, that was never a bad thing. Sleep when you're dead.

The girl dropped the menus on the streaked table. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Coffee. Black," I said. I looked at her nametag. Gladys. I'd remember that. In case anything went sideways.

"Same," Royce said.

She walked off, and I used a napkin to wipe grease from the table. No use—the thin paper was no match for the layers of grime. Good thing I learned to keep my elbows off the table. My suit was probably worth more than the entire building, and my dry cleaner took offense when I ruined pricey garments.

Royce stared me down, fidgeting. "Where is this guy? I've got other cases back in town that I need to look after. Worked on a pretty risky implant job yesterday. Not sure it's going to take."

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were off the black market."

"I'm not the one who installed the thing. I'm just cleaning up the aftermath. But, it's not black market. Just off-label. Awkward candidate. Some of my clients are foolish enough and rich enough to get whatever they want."

I folded my arms. "I have no idea what you're implying. I always follow medical advice."

"Tell me that again when you're writhing around in the backseat later tonight."

"You're not my type."

He laughed. "Don't I know it. My dick's not for sale."

"I don't buy dick."

He started to respond when someone crashed through the kitchen's double doors. I looked over my shoulder. A skinny Asian kid, clutching a messenger bag to his chest, panting and sweaty, eyes like pinholes, stood frozen in the doorway. Jesus. I needed to switch courier services. This idiot looked like he was ten years old.

I motioned for Royce to scoot over and pointed at the spot next to him. The kid didn't move. I rolled my eyes. "You. Sit. There."

The courier jerked his head towards me, stared for a second, and looked away again, holding the messenger bag like it was a ticking bomb. In a way it was more dangerous, but he shouldn't have known that.

"Are you deaf? Sit down now or you're not getting a tip. Trust me. You want that tip. It's generous," I said.

That seemed to get his attention. He inched into the spot next to Royce, careful not to touch him, like Royce was an electric fence. Well, the kid had some sense. Royce didn't like being touched, and he punched like a brick house.

I pulled an envelope out of my jacket and waved it in the air. "It's all in here. Count it if you want, but do it under the table. Even here, it's not good to wave cash around."

Given the value of real cash and the ease of tracking it, it wasn't smart to use that much, but the supplier had insisted on it. I should have negotiated, but I needed the shipment so badly I would have paid the guy in kidneys.

The kid snatched it from my hand and put it into his satchel, and for a second it looked like he was going to run. It was standard to exchange the cash first, but every so often an inexperienced courier panicked when they had that much money.

"I know you're not stupid enough to run off with it. My car is faster than yours, I guarantee it, and you don't want my friend here to beat it out of you. Hand over the goods," I said.

Shaking, he plunged a hand into the black satchel and came out with a white paper bag. Royce snagged the bag and peeked at the contents under the table. He pulled out his phone and queued up a scanner app. A tiny beep and a very small flash of light later, and he looked up again.

"Looks good from here," he said. "You want this guy to stick around while we try it? The barcode checks out, and it looks factory sealed. That's as good as I can get without opening it up and running it through a mass spectrometer."

"I know where to find the dealers if it's not legit," I said and turned to the boy who was still twitching in his seat. "You can go."

He looked back and forth between us, holding his bag and not moving.

"I said scram. Beat it. Go back to San Francisco or wherever you came from. Your job is done. Get out of here before my friend here decides we paid you too much."

With big eyes, the kid bolted through the kitchen door. Pots and pans clattered and startled chefs yelled. Real clandestine. Once everything was under control, I'd leave a negative review on all the dark boards. Incompetence shouldn't be rewarded.

"Who the hell are you dealing with now?" Royce said.

"Look, it's not like you can find that stuff at a corner pharmacy. Don't want people knowing I'm buying it, either. Trouble for all of us. This was the only source that guaranteed delivery before midnight. You told me tomorrow might be too late."

He sighed. "You're right about that. This is pushing it. Your last test results looked bad. Really bad."

"I got it, no need to keep telling me. We're dealing with the situation."

"Jinny, you're impossible."

"You mean unstoppable," I said. "And don't call me Jinny. Just Jin."

"I'll stop calling you Jinny when you start calling me doctor."

"Sure. Dr. Royce's Chop Shop has a certain ring to it."

"That's Dr. Hallet. Just have to be the top dog, don't you?"

"You're either on top, or you're on the bottom. I don't bottom."

The waitress came back with our coffees, almost slipping as she dropped the mugs on the table. Coffee sloshed out, and I slid to the side, narrowly avoiding the hot brown spray.

I cleared my throat and stared at the mortified waitress. "Clumsy. Do you know how much this suit is worth? Whatever your job is, you have to be the best. The absolute best. You don't want to stay here the rest of your life, do you?"

"I...I don't know. No. I'm sorry," she said.

She was attractive. Gladys looked 18, maybe 21, Hispanic, big eyes, long lashes, small waist. Plump lips. There were a lot of reasons why people got trapped in towns like this, but I hated to see potential go to waste. Especially if that potential could make me money.

"You ever decide you want to make some serious income, maybe get out of this town, you need to up your game. Learn what it means to work hard. Then you come find me. Just ask Hector. He'll point you in my direction."

"Oh. Okay," she said. From that look in her eye, I knew she was intrigued. Might see her down on Colorado later in the month.

"Good. You look like you're smarter than this place. There's always room for talent in my house."

Of course she looked dumber than broccoli, but lost little flowers like this just needed to think someone believed in them. I didn't need her mind. Just her body.

She tried to stop it, but a smile played at the corners of her mouth. "Can I get you something else?" She wiped her hands on her white apron, leaving brown streaks. We'd need to train those messy habits out of her.

"No. That will be all. Pull up our tab." Like I would eat in a place like this. Or drink that motor oil they called coffee. Also, I took my coffee with heavy cream and tons of sugar. Plain coffee is for poor losers.

Gladys fumbled in her apron for a small tablet. I pulled out a card and waved it over the screen, punching a few numbers once the account registered. Untraceable cryptocurrency, naturally. She looked at the tip I left, and her big eyes got even bigger.

I smiled. "Like I said, work hard, and you just might win big. Why don't you start by cleaning these filthy tables?"

"Thank you. Okay. Yes. Thank you." She scurried into the back.

Royce sighed. "What the fuck are you doing? You can't afford extravagant tips, and you're blowing anything resembling a cover."

"Relax. We're fine. And that was just a tiny bit of crypto. Investments always pay off in the end. You know how much a girl like her could pull in if I get her in the right club?"

"You're in over your head. I hope you've written me into your will— my fees are piling up, and I haven't seen a tip like that in months."

"Patience. It's incentive for you to help me live."

"You're the boss, apparently," he said. "Let's hit the road. If we're lucky we can still get back before sunrise."

My hands felt tingly, pins and needles like when you sleep on your arm. I flexed my fingers, shook them out. Royce didn't miss it.

"Shit. We've waited too long. Out. To the car," he said.

The tingling quickly turned into burning—fiery nerve pain all up and down my arms. I hissed, clenching my teeth and squinting my eyes.

"Crap," I said. "Help me out."

I could still see, but my vision would be the next thing to go. Royce came around and hooked his arm over my shoulder, hauling me out of the booth. I barely noticed the bustling kitchen as we shuffled out the back door.

The cold night air felt good on my twitching, burning flesh. My legs were still working, but the tingling burn was creeping downward. Royce was pulling me now, and my expensive pumps dragged on the ground, one falling off like I was a very rich Cinderella. Those were designer shoes, limited edition.

With one hand propping me up, Royce dug through my pockets and fish out my keys. Playing cards tumbled out, and the little paper squares fluttered at my legs as they fell to the ground. He hit a button and the Lotus' doors swung open. When he flung me down onto the back seat, I bit my tongue. Didn't want to dignify him with a groan.

I rolled onto my side and he said, "Stay face down. This has to go at the base of your neck. And no, it's not going to feel good."

"Do it, before it's too late," I said. Wasn't sure what I preferred—the burning nerve pain or the frightening paralysis—but they both were attacking different parts of my body at the same time. Now I couldn't feel my toes.

He pulled a syringe out of his coat. A big one. Like he was expecting this to happen, and I guess he wasn't wrong. He shook up the vial we'd gotten from the incompetent courier and stuck the needle into the container. Hard to tell in the moonlight, but the liquid looked like it was black. How comforting.

Royce put a meaty hand between my shoulder blades and pressed me into the leather seats. Sweeping away my shoulder-length hair, he slathered something cold and wet on the back of my neck.

"This is going to hurt. A lot. Don't move or I'll herniate your brainstem."

I turned my head so I could talk. "You sure this is a safe place to do this?"

"Nope. But you'll be totally paralyzed by the time we get back to Pasadena if we wait. Your choice."

"Then get it over with." I turned my head back so that my spine was facing him.

He grabbed a hunk of my hair, using it to straighten out my neck.

I had brave visions of me staying silent, but that plan didn't work so well. He wasn't kidding. The needlestick hurt like hell, cold as it plunged through my skin and into my spinal column, but that wasn't the worst part. Once he started pushing down on the plunger, the pressure from the drugs went straight to my skull, giving me an instant migraine.

I screamed, and Royce put a knee in the small of my back, holding me down. "Don't move. Not done yet. This is your pain. Own it."

If there was a hell, Royce probably had an office there. Brutal, but he was the best in the city, and I owned him. My pet sadist.

After what seemed like forever, he let go of my neck and took his knee off my back. I didn't move, just waited for the pounding migraine to stop.

"You can sit up. The molecules are so small they should absorb into all the dendrites quickly."

"Just give me a minute," I said, still facedown.

He dug a hand down to my neck and took my pulse. "Carotid feels good. You're breathing okay. You'll survive. Getting any sensation back in your limbs?"

I had to take my attention away from my throbbing head to check in with the rest of my body. I wiggled my fingers and toes. "It's working. I can feel everything again and the burning's stopping."

Something wet was dripping down my neck.

"Oh hold up, you're bleeding."  
Paper crinkled as he reached into his pocket and pressed gauze onto the back of my neck. "Keep still for a minute."

"Oh man, is that getting on my suit?"

"Yup. That, and all the iodine I slathered back there."

"Damn it, I don't even know if Chen will be able to get that out." My drycleaner could work miracles, but even he had limits. Only so much you could do without pouring straight acid on the fabric.

"Not my fault you'd rather get a major infection in your spinal cord. Ever hear of Meningitis? It's not fun," he said. "Alright, I think that's stopped bleeding." He took off the gauze.

Slowly, I sat up, my head feeling like a bunch of marbles in a washing machine. Bad, but it was settling. Good. Downtime is not to my liking. Keep moving like a shark, or you'll drown. That's the only way to survive in Los Angeles.

"Going to need to install a portal or something if I have to keep doing that to you. Multiple times a day," he said.

My stomach felt queasy just thinking about it.

"I need a stiff martini when I get back. A big one," I said.

"No alcohol. You've got enough weird chemicals floating around in your cerebrospinal fluid now."

"We'll see about that."

"You're difficult to keep alive. Now get into the passenger seat so I can take us home."

"I'm fine, I can drive." Before he could stop me, I slithered into the front seat. My speed and my petite frame had their advantages.

"The hell you can."

He tried to come after me, but with his burly figure there was no way he could worm his way over the center console. He got out and came around to the passenger seat.

"The serum is working, isn't it?" I said. I waved my hands in the air. "See?"

"That's not the point. It could fail at any second."

"Go out there and get my shoe. They don't make those anymore."

He reached over and punched a button on the dash. "Autopilot can drive us home. Sorry about your shoe."

The car lurched forward, and I wanted to argue, but those little tinglies were creeping over my skin, like the attack was just waiting for an opportunity to sneak in again. Maybe it was time to head back to the ranch.

"You owe me one Andrea Laughton Original shoe and a Wallace Paulson suit. I'll accept payment in goods, services, or cash," I said.

"Take it out of my tab."
Chapter Two

Pasadena. By the time we got back, it was late enough that even Colorado Boulevard, the main artery through the city, didn't have much traffic. Either everyone had gone home for the night, or they were glued to a slot machine, pushing buttons for hours on end.

Right where I wanted them.

We breached Eagle Rock, the little enclave on the western side of Pasadena that was home to some of my less...exclusive establishments. With no buildings higher than a few stories, there were more motels and pachinko parlors than anything else in that neighborhood. Crammed with neon, the asphalt on the empty boulevard looked like a unicorn had vomited all over the street. Most of the motels lacked windows for more than one reason.

As much as I liked to get my way, I'd allowed the autopilot take us most of the way back through the desert. Driving is one thing I didn't like to use servants or machines for—way too much fun, as long as I was in one of my sports cars. I had other great rides in garage, but the Lotus was special, and although I hated to waste an opportunity to drive it through an unrestricted traffic zone, I also wasn't fond of crashing my beloved cars.

My head was feeling better, but the back of my neck where Royce had jammed in that spinal needle still ached, and I was hungry. I'm not used to waiting for anything. Patience is not a virtue. Like poverty, patience is for the unfortunate. Instant gratification is the way to go.

When the entrance to the underground mall came into view, I put my foot on the accelerator and clicked off the autopilot.

"What are you doing?" Royce said.

"Are you hungry?"

He stared at me. "Oh, now you're worried about my needs?"

"Of course. I'm always courteous to my employees. I'm starving. We're stopping for some food."

"In the underground mall? You would eat in there?"

"Absolutely not." I turned the wheel and pulled into a vast parking lot. Don't get me wrong. I pulled tons of patrons from the colony down there, but none of them were high-rollers, and I wasn't about to break bread in a place like that. I might put in an appearance every now and then, just to keep up face, but let's just say I didn't exactly hang out in the underground mall for fun.

In the far corner of the lot, a stainless steel food truck was parked, lights on, steam and smoke puffing from the roof and curling up to dance around the neon green sign that marked the mall elevators.

"Fantastic. He's here tonight. I think our luck is turning around," I said.

"What do you mean turning around? If I hadn't been with you, you'd be a bag of jelly by now. I call that lucky."

"That wasn't luck. That was good planning on my part. There's a difference. Even in games of chance, there's always an element of skill. Remember that."

"If you say so."

I pulled up to the truck and stepped out, but stopped when my left foot touched bare pavement. Drat. My shoes. Could have called for someone to bring me another pair, but I didn't want to attract any extra attention, just in case the serum started failing again. Showing weakness in this town also wasn't a good idea. Too many other sharks swimming around, looking for snacks. Better to keep moving and eat the little fish first.

I made a face and took off the other shoe, tossing it into the back seat. The rough pavement snagged at my nylons, tearing little holes in the delicate fabric. Those would be ruined too. Destroying good clothing is a sin.

My stomach beat out my displeasure about the outfit, and I walked over to the food truck. In glowing magenta paint, it said "Leonardo Gonzales: Tacos and More" on the side, bright enough that it stood out even against all the other audacious signs that overpowered Colorado Boulevard.

Across the street, one of my Pachinko joints pinged away, a steady clang that told me the front hall was still full of players. Not for the big spenders, but I'll say this—the parlors brought in consistent customers. They didn't have a lot to give, but what they had, they spent on Pachinko. Further down the strip, out of Eagle Rock and deeper into Pasadena, the clientele changed. Less Pachinko and more Baccarat, VR pinball, drone racing, that sort of thing. The stuff that took more money and more skill. My kind of games. I only went for pachinko if I needed a mindless way to pass some time.

A few feet to the right of the taco truck, a big flashing arrow pointed down next to a sign that said "Entrance: Knock Three Times." Cute—an allusion to the time when it was nothing more than a gang hangout. Anyone that actually knocked three times shouldn't have been down there in the first place, and would have been greeted with a few lead slugs to the face. Now you had to knock on the elevator entrance so that the biometric scanners could enter your data into the system.

A man leaned out truck's long service window. "Hyojin Song. Fancy seeing you out here. How are you doing?"

Behind him, meat sizzled on a grill, and it smelled amazing.

"I've been better, but I can't really complain. Business is steady," I said.

"Me too—been out here every night this week. You keep 'em coming in, I'll tell you that. What can I get you? On the house, of course."

"That's very kind of you. I like a business that treats their customers right."

"I learned from the best. What can I get you?"

"I'll have three carne asada tacos. Royce, what do you want?"

"Same," he said.

Leo bent farther over the window. "Oh hey Royce, didn't realize that was you out there. What's the latest?"

"Just the usual bullshit. How's your mother?"

"She's been great since you fixed her up. Don't know what we'd do without you."

"Thanks." Royce looked at me. "I like clients that are appreciative."

I smirked. "The customer is always right."

Leo laughed. "You need to come to this end of town more often. Might change your mind about that."

I took note—he was joking, but I really didn't come to this end of town often enough. Delegation is essential when your company is as big as mine, but not properly managing your underlings is a sloppy practice. Keep a tight reign on everything, or you'd regret it.

"Good point. Been quiet enough around here?" I said.

Leo started cooking, but talked over his shoulder, his long ponytail swishing across a white t-shirt that said "Leonardo's."

"Quiet enough. No gang uprisings recently, no police raids. Not like the police come out here much anyway. Never did anyway. Since you cleared out all that riffraff, things seem fairly stable. Can't complain," he said.

"You can thank Gavin for that—he did all the heavy lifting," I said.

He stopped cooking for a second. "Doesn't surprise me. Never would have guessed it, but I wouldn't want to meet that guy in a dark alley."

"I didn't think anything scared you."

Half Mexican, half Japanese, Leo was an old friend of mine. He'd been out here way before I'd been. He made one a hell of a taco—you could serve his food in any five star restaurant in downtown LA. He was also the unofficial guardian of the Undergrid portal in the Pasadena quadrant. Guy could swing a mean sword, and you didn't want to be on the wrong end of it. When my implants weren't busy shorting out and frying all my nerve endings, I was fast. Very fast. But even I didn't want to try dodging one of Leo's sword strikes.

"I've been around long enough to know when I'm outmatched," he said.

Couldn't argue with him. I'd never seen Gavin lose a fight.

"Hey Jin," Leo called over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Keep an eye on that Augustine character. You know, that French guy?"

I stopped breathing for a second. "What about him?"

"He's got that new hotel in Beverly Hills. Construction's finally finished."

"So?"

"That doesn't make you suspicious?" he said.

"I'm always suspicious, but his casinos are all out in Riverside. Even I don't want to touch that dump of a town."

"Hey, watch it," he said.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry. No offense."

He laughed. "Just kidding—none taken."

"So you think he's planning something? The deeds on my properties are ironclad. The Pasadena city planner is in my back pocket. Guy spends all of Saturday and half of Sunday pulling slots down at the Chrysanthemum."

"I haven't heard anything specific. Just keep an eye and an ear out, you dig? I don't like the guy."

Neither did I. I'd met him once and he was so slimy I felt like I needed to soak in ammonia for a week just to get him out of my pores.

"Thanks for the tip. Long night. I'll put out some feelers when I'm back in the office," I said.

"You need to go below for anything, you let me know. I'll take you down. No problem."

He wasn't talking about the underground mall. He meant what lurked below it. Every underbelly has an underbelly, and this was no exception. Beneath the tawdry stalls of the mall, there were more tunnels—a big network of old sewer trenches and abandoned subway lines.

And people lived down there— the Circuit Breakers. They were human, but they were so riddled with illegal implants that they may has well have been aliens. Filled with people that didn't want to be tracked by the government, they let surgeons like Royce slice out any bits that might trip biometric scanners. Highly illegal. They couldn't even set foot in a store on the surface without special precautions. Getting caught without your biometrics intact was a good way to end up in jail for a long time.

Of course, some of them had some pretty good tricks for getting around town unnoticed, but it was still risky. They had a certain look about them that tended to make cops suspicious. I helped them out from time to time, since I didn't care for cops myself, and Pasadena wasn't exactly the pinnacle of lawfulness. Still, it was better explore the Undergrid with an escort. Living underground for too long tends to make you a little strange. And dangerous.

"I may need to take you up on that offer," I said.

"You okay? You're looking a little...ruffled," he said.

Didn't I know it. "You know how it is, you go to a big party, things get a little crazy. What's life like without a little fun?"

Leo wasn't buying it, but he let it go—helped us both save face.

He put six tacos in the window, and as I was reaching for them, my wrist vibrated. My smart watch. Pushing a button, the faceplate lit up with a message in all capitals: MAJOR BREACH. RETURN FOR COLLATERAL RECOVERY OVERRIDE. No one called or send a holo-message, so it was probably a big name that got caught. Security was trying to keep it quiet. Not good.

Leo and Royce watched the look on my face.

"Problem?" Royce said.

"Got an issue back at the ranch." I looked down at my missing shoe and the flecks of blood on my clothes. "Royce. Go into the underground mall and get me something to replace the shoes and jacket that you ruined."

"Seriously? You want me to pay for it?"

"Do I look like I'm joking? Besides, the stuff down there's so cheap even you can afford it."

I crinkled my nose at the thought of wearing some import knock-offs, but depending on how much money we lost, and what kind of currency, I needed to move fast.

"You owe me," he said.

"Actually, you owe me—the cost of this jacket alone was way more than whatever bill I had with you. Get moving. I'll take care of these tacos while you're gone." I picked one up and took a nibble. Delicious.

"I don't know why I put up with this," Royce said.

"Because she's the best," Leo said.

"Thanks, Leo. I'm all about equitable deals," I said.

"Hope your theory about luck is wrong. Skill might not be enough to get us through this week," Royce said.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I'm sure you have enough skill to find me a new jacket. Size 2. Petite."
Chapter Three

Some people called this place Pasadena. Others called it Jin City.

I preferred Jin City.

I stood outside of Jin Tower and stared up at the tall façade that blossomed into the night sky, sparkling with long tracks of neon and LED embellishments. Shaped like a blooming flower, the tower was my own design, and with every second the colors changed and shimmered. My home and the main hub of my business, it was perfect.

At the entrance to the lower casino floor, we stood still while the scanners did their business, reading our various biometric chips, snapping retina images. I waved my wrist on a separate plate to give myself executive access. I had a private entrance too, but I wanted take a sweep of the floor on the way up, make sure nothing else looked suspicious before we took care of the main incident.

The ground level was nothing but VR slots, but that's where the most cheating happened. In Jin City, we made sure that there was something for everyone. From the low-rent virtual pachinko parlors to the highest ranking 10-deck psywave poker tournaments, there was a game for any income level and type of addict. And that was something that I understood. We provided the ultimate in gaming experience for every walk of life. Hell, I'd have children's casinos if they let me. Get them started early.

The city hadn't quite let us go that far yet, but it was only a matter of time. Every time L.A. County needed money, their gambling laws got laxer. That's how the zoning changed in the first place—a little financial crash was all it took to open Pasadena to the gambling culture. Just one more bit of financial destruction, and we'd be able to expand into other parts of the city.

I'd heard whispers of movement just last week, in fact. Two spots they were opening up. Two spots I wanted very badly: Koreatown and Venice Beach. And let me tell you. Once that happened, I'd pounce so fast. A casino on the beach? In L.A.? Are you kidding? I adore the beach, and the money it would bring in would be unbelievable. Jin Tower would look like it was made out of Legos once I got ahold of that kind of cash.

And Koreatown? Well, I felt like I was owed that already. Everyone knew me there. Maybe my heritage wasn't so straightforward, but that was another home to me. No one else deserved to have casinos there but me.

As we walked past the noisy slot machines, through holograms and past zonked out gamblers with VR headsets strapped to their faces, I tried to walk confidently. The jacket and shoes from the underground mall weren't bad—unless you looked closely, you might not notice it wasn't actually designer clothing, but this was Jin Tower. Even here on the bottom floor, the opening bets were higher than in any of my other casinos combined.

At least Leo had given me some water and towels to clean the blood out of my hair. With my hair too wet to salvage without a blow dryer, I settled for tousling my blond hair into what I hoped looked like short, beachy waves. Fortunately, I'd had my follicles re-shocked within the last six months, so the roots were a nice, consistent shade. Not quite on point, but hopefully it looked like an intentional style.

The floor seemed quiet, in a way of speaking. Over all the flashing and bonging machines, it all looked just like it should, no sign of foul play. Organized. Clean. Everything even smelled like it should—new carpet (replaced it every three months), top-shelf alcohol, and clean, cool filtered air to help keep patrons awake and moving. Heat was the death of a casino. Pasadena was at the edge of the desert, and it was important to keep every building at just the right degree of chill. Like the perfect glass of cold soju, temperature was key.

Royce followed me without complaining, which was odd. He loved to complain. Definite character flaw, if you asked me. Make solutions, not problems.

Before I hit the button on the elevator, I turned to him and said, "You can go back to your room if you want to. You make a great security guard, but I have plenty of staff already."

"I'm sticking with you until you let me run you through a scanner. I'm not letting you croak before I see a payoff."

Guess he didn't trust that the serum was going to last very long. Or he really liked his new corner of my tower. As part of his recruitment fee, I'd given him his own private suite in Jin Tower, but his residency was contingent on me being alive. Not sure what he did with all his money, but morally flexible implant surgeons didn't exactly come cheap (something I was learning the hard way), and what he did with his cash wasn't my business.

"The more the merrier. Remember to put your scary underworld face on, really spook the guy. Just try not to make him crap his pants. Takes days to air out the room," I said and inspected his outfit. "You look worse than I did."

"Hey, this is your blood."

"I don't mean the blood—that's a nice touch, for you. If the guy's sporting a bootleg implant, maybe you can threaten to dig it out and resell it on the deep webs. I just mean your general style level. What's the shirt made of, polyester? Doesn't even look barrier-coated."

"Not like you use barrier-coated fabrics either, otherwise your jacket wouldn't have been ruined."

I snickered. "Please. I only wear natural fibers. That's what makes it expensive. This cheap knockoff is giving me a rash."

"Oh, so now you're a sensitive little flower?"

"That's right, Royce. This is my party, and I'm the belle of the ball." The elevator came down with a soft ding. "Let's go."

***

At the top of the elevator, the doors clicked open, and I touched the wall as we walked through the doors—raised, gilded wallpaper. Not as nice as on my private floor, but almost. Carpet so thick my feet nearly sunk up to my ankles. Royce trailed behind me as we weaved through private card rooms and VR boxes.

The hall was soundproofed, but from the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of glitter as someone opened the door to one of the entertainment rooms. That club was all women, and it was close to Royce's quarters. Perhaps that's where all his money went. Everything for him was comped, including drinks, but maybe he was a generous tipper. I could think of worse ways to spend some cash. I only hired the best dancers.

We stopped at the mouth of a long corridor. A pair of double doors, surrounded by ornate raised filigree, waited for us at the end of the hallway. I'd made sure the entrance was decorative—kept visitors from guessing what we really did in that room. Wouldn't want to ruin the fantasy.

I was about to pull out my cell and dial Gavin, when he tromped around the corner, hands in his pockets.

"You look stunning," I said to him.

"Are you kidding?" Royce said.

I glared at him. "What do you think I am, narrow-minded? I just expect my employees to have some semblance of good taste. I'm more traditional, but Gavin's got great style. Look at the quality. Look at those fabrics. I bet you anything that outfit's right on season in Seoul."

Hair bleached lighter than mine, and with better bone structure in his face, Gavin Kwon was almost prettier than I was, which was not something I liked admitting, but it was hard to deny. Wearing an artistically ripped Union Jack shirt, designer jeans with a set of chains and handcuffs around his waist, and a manicured fur demi-jacket, Gavin's ensemble looked magnificent.

"Your eye-liner is perfect today," I said. Wished I could do mine that well.

"Thanks, Jin." He didn't mention my problematic outfit—Gavin had more courtesy than that.

"So, what's the scoop?" I said.

Gavin smiled. "Oh ho, we have a very naughty high roller on our hands. Guy usually hangs out on the psywave poker floor, losing most of the time, according to our records. Found him with a crude frequency modulator tapping out a slot machine," he said.

"How the hell did that happen?" I said.

"He thought he was being smart. Got some circuit jockey to assemble the device in a basement bathroom. Got it all on tape. The engineer left the building after putting the electronics together, but we got his biometrics before he escaped. We'll bring him in later, shouldn't be difficult."

"Shockingly stupid. Never fails to amaze me," I said.

"Sounds like you need better security," Royce said.

Gavin shot him a look. "Excuse me?"

"Royce, I'd watch it if I were you. I know you're used to throwing your weight around, but you do not want to piss off Gavin."

As head of operations in Jin Tower, there was no one I trusted more than Gavin.

And he was not someone you wanted to fight. His knuckles looked like a depressed teenager's wrists for a reason.

Royce put up his hands. "My bad."

Lucky for us, Gavin had a pretty good control over his temper these days. Didn't used to be the case, which was rather fun to watch, but messy to clean up, and I'm all about efficiency. Or if not efficiency, at least luxury. Always err on the side of luxury.

Gavin cleared his throat and continued. "Once he activated the device, he only got one roll before security was all over him, but that was enough to tap out the machine."

"Bet that was fun for the few seconds that it lasted," I said. "Alright. Let's go review the evidence and get those credits back. Are the videos ready?"

"Absolutely," Gavin said, brows arched, tongue between his front teeth. "Showtime."

I pushed open the heavy gilded doors and entered the deceptively large room. Big enough in case things got heavy, but still lushly appointed, I felt like I created an excellent spot for these little meetings. And Gavin did a good job of making sure no one broke the lamps.

I strutted inside, flanked by Gavin and Royce. Our patron was sitting on a plush silver couch, red-faced with his hands shoved into the pockets of a brown suit. A cheap brown suit, I might add. Too big in the shoulders, unfinished seams at the collar. Royce could have found something nicer in the underground mall. The man's hairline came down too far, inches beyond his ears and right up to his eyebrows. Color was too dark. Bad dye job, couldn't afford root shocking, and he had a bad scalp reforestation on top of that.

We needed to upgrade our software to automatically pick out customers like this. Out in the Eagle Rock pachinko shacks, he wouldn't raise any red flags. In Jin Tower? We never should have let him past the front door.

"Good afternoon," I said. "Thank you for joining us."

Guards stood in position at the four corners of the room, mostly for intimidation. Gavin could take care of business by himself, but it was more professional to have a full security showing.

"Hey. I didn't mean any harm. It wasn't my idea. I mean it wasn't my fault. I was under duress, you know?" the man said.

I strutted across the carpet and stopped, feet planted, shoulders squared. I didn't need height or muscles to be intimidating.

I stuck a hand out for him to shake. "Mr...what did you say your name was?"

"Um, Wilson," he said, staring at my hand but not shaking it, missing the part about how he'd never introduced himself to me in the first place. Good. Better to keep him frazzled.

"That's right. Alan Wilson. Well, Mr. Wilson, I'm certainly not one to make wild accusations. We're all about fair chances here at Jin Tower."

"Who are you?"

I jiggled my hand, and he shook it hesitantly, his sweaty palm rubbing against my cool, dry skin.

"Song. Hyojin Song, owner and CEO of Song Entertainment Industries. You can call me Jin."

His hand went limp in mine and I let it go so he could shove it back inside his frayed pockets. A fresh towelette appeared in my hand, as if by magic, and I wiped his sweat off my palm. Just as quickly, someone was there to take the used tissue away.

"Well then. Sorry to hurry us along here, but I'm afraid I have other places to be this evening. It's nearly dawn, after all." I snapped my fingers and pointed at the bar. One of the security guards sprung to life and started mixing me a drink. Never underestimate the value of well-trained staff.

Royce grumbled beside me, and I just smiled at him, hoping he'd take the hint. He could harass me later if he wanted to, but not in front of a client. Never compromise yourself in front of a client.

The guard handed me a chilled martini glass and scurried back to his post. I took a sip, and it was just what I needed. Between the premium gin and the thrill of busting this loser, it was almost enough to make me forget the unfortunate start to the evening.

"Can I get you anything?" I said.

Wilson pointed at his chest. "Me?"

"Of course. For the moment, you're still a guest."

The red left his cheeks. He was stupid. But not that stupid. He put his hands to either side of his thighs, like he was debating whether he should try to escape.

"Sit tight Mr. Wilson. Let's enjoy a little show, shall we?"

I pushed a button on my watch, and a large flatscreen television came to life on the back wall. We watched as every moment of the guy's mistake was replayed in high-definition color. You could almost see the sweat bursting out of his pores as the big jackpot rang out across the casino floor.

I turned to Gavin. "You've already confiscated the device?"

"Naturally," he said.

"Your findings?"

"Just as expected. Illegal modulator. Homemade. Constructed on site, just like we saw in the video."

I rotated back to Mr. Wilson. "Well then. We've presented our evidence, and it's a strong case, don't you think?"

His left eye twitched, and the security guards in the corners moved, just slightly. Eager. Gavin was doing a good job of containing his excitement, but he was ready too. I was hoping this guy didn't do anything dramatic—I had enough to deal with—but Gavin was always up for a good rumble.

I stuck out a hand, and Gavin slapped a tablet into it. I glanced at the screen. "Oh you naughty boy, and gambling with cryptocurrencies too. Tsk tsk."

Cash took a few extra steps to recover, since it was still regulated by the federal government. But anything crypto, we had full authorization to recover in any way we saw fit. Any. Way. Worst way to defraud a casino.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I really needed the money. I have kids," he said.

"You don't have kids. If you're going to lie, at least make it a good one. We read your full profile, Mr. Wilson. Have some dignity."

He started to get up, and the security guards stirred. I put a hand out and stopped them.

"Here's what's going to happen." Martini still in my other hand, I extended an index finger and punched some buttons on the tablet. "You're going to return your illegal earnings plus transaction fees. I think you'll find the sum we've calculated to be fair."

"I can't pay it back. I need that money."

"However unfortunate your predicament, I'm afraid that's not my problem." I thrust the tablet in his face.

With trembling hands, he took the device and stared at the glowing numbers on the screen. "I can't afford that!"

"I'm sure the amount is shocking, but perhaps next time you'll think twice before going through with such an ill-advised plan. This is a small settlement—let me assure you, there are much more unpleasant ways of settling your debt. Put your thumbprint in the center of the screen, please. Or, we can just remove your thumbs and do it for you." I took another sip of my drink.

His eyes widened, and he stared at his hands, probably thinking about what it would be like to go through life without opposable thumbs.

Gavin and the other security guards inched closer, waiting for him to bolt, but as tears played at his eyelids, the guy pressed a shaky thumb to the screen. A muted beep told me the transaction was finished.

I plucked the tablet from his grasp. "There now. That wasn't so difficult, was it? I hope you've enjoyed your time with Song Entertainment Industries."

Royce was leaning on a back wall, arms across his chest. I gulped the rest of the martini and set the glass on one of the gilded tables. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again.

"Come along," I said to him. "Gavin will take things from here."

Gavin winked at me. "Have a nice evening, Ms. Song."
Chapter Four

The elevator clicked open, and I had to run my bios another time to avoid tripping one of the alarms. In these times, you never could be too careful. We had good security, but like we saw tonight, nothing was foolproof, and if you were willing to putz around with black market implants, it was possible to get away with all kinds of things. My sanctuary had to be impenetrable.

On the highest floor, I kept this area for my most private quarters—bedrooms, bathrooms, small kitchen. Only I had access to the roof, which was a special treat. If I felt up to it, maybe I'd watch the sunrise over the valley, but night was dwindling, and I'd been awake for more hours than I cared to remember. I was ready for some privacy, but I wasn't alone.

Royce was still trailing behind me.

"Well, it's been a lovely evening with you, to be sure. You're welcome to stay in one of my spare bedrooms up here on the executive level, or you're free to go back down to your private room. I'll text you or something if I start shorting out," I said.

"No way."

"You're a doctor, aren't you? Don't you think I deserve some rest after all that?"

He sighed. "I'm actually surprised you're still standing. And smiling. You're one strange woman. Most people would be flat out for the weekend after that injection. I suspect the adrenaline's carrying you along for now."

"You just don't know me well enough." I held out my wrist. "Feel my pulse. Do I look full of adrenaline?"

He waved me off. "I'm trying to protect my investment here."

I pointed at the room down the hallway. "I'm going in there, and I'm going to get naked, take a long bath, watch the sunrise, have a cocktail, and take a much deserved nap. You can check on me when I wake up again."

I walked down to the door and buzzed it open, blocking the gap with my body so he couldn't follow me inside. He came close anyway, like he could squeeze through the tiny opening.

"And if you croak in your sleep?" he said.

"What, you want to come in and naked cuddle or something?"

"Nothing I haven't seen before."

I took off my watch, hit a few settings, and curled his fingers around it. "That's keyed to my heartbeat."

"I don't know how long that injection is going to last. Might only hold for a few more hours, just so you know."

"Feel free to come get me if my heart stops. Goodnight, Royce." I slipped into the room and quickly, but softly, latched the door behind me.

I thought it was a fair compromise. Doctor or not, you didn't hand out a code to internal scanners to just anyone. The rest of the controls on my watch were locked, but you never knew. Seemed like the hackers got more savvy every day, but it was only a one-way device. He couldn't shock my heart from afar with the little standard implant I had.

The room was small when compared to my other suites, both inside Jin Tower and beyond, but it was one of my favorites. With just the bare essentials, it was where I went when I was done with any business and wanted to relax by myself. Covered in black silk fabrics and little gold accents, it was designed for pure relaxation and pleasure.

As I stepped farther inside, soft music automatically started playing and the lights dimmed. I loved this new system—even though it was almost time for dawn programming, the room knew I hadn't been home for the night yet and was using the regular evening schedule. Even my electronics were well-behaved. Just like I deserved.

The first thing I did was strip off that noxious jacket and those awful shoes and shoved them down a waste chute. They were sucked into the abyss, sent down to the micro-incinerator, never to be seen again. Good riddance.

I hated to let Royce get the upper hand on the situation, but he may have been right. My neck started throbbing, and in a mirror I could see a healthy bruise forming at the base of my skull. Nothing I couldn't hide with latex primers, but the headache I had earlier started poking at the back of my eyes again. A handful of anti-inflammatories and another stiff drink would help put a stop to that.

Reaching for the liquor cabinet, I realized that I was somehow out of gin. That was my fault—I asked staff not to come in here unless I explicitly asked them. I could have someone bring me another bottle, but I wanted my privacy for the moment. Perhaps a sparkling Tahitian coconut water instead. I flipped a switch on my beverage dispenser and the milky, effervescent liquid poured into a crystal champagne glass. Electrolytes would probably be good for the headache anyway.

Taking a sip of the slightly sweet mixture, I pulled the rest of my clothes off and hit a few buttons in the central control panel. Water burbled in the bathroom, and when I heard a ding, I removed a tray from a wall cabinet. Sushi and chocolate fondue with big, fat strawberries. Kitchen downstairs was fast. Excellent service. Fondue was for me, and the sushi was for Lucky. Where was he, anyway?

Too lazy to find the remote control, I used the voice system instead. "Adriana," I said, and waited for the AI to respond.

"Listening," it said.

"Send Lucky to room 777."

"Your request is confirmed. Have a nice evening."

Someone scratched on the front door a few moments later, and I cracked it open. The tan greyhound trotted inside, and I locked the door behind him. He sat at my feet, looking up happily, and I turned off the navigation program on his digital collar. Not that he really needed it anymore, but the casino could be a distracting place, easy for a dog to get lost.

I leaned over and scratched his ears. "Lucky boy, you hungry? Want to have a snack with me?"

He held up a paw.

"Alright, buddy, let's go."

I kissed him between the eyes and picked up the tray. In the bathroom, the deep circular bathtub was already full of hot water and vanilla-scented bubbles. I set the tray on a stand and climbed into the water. Lucky sat at the edge of the tub, patiently waiting for his treat. I put the sushi platter on the floor and he nosed at the delicate pieces of fish.

Lucky was lucky indeed—most humans would be fortunate to taste sushi of that quality in their lifetime. That, and he was lucky to be alive in the first place. I'd rescued him from one the nastier greyhound racing operations in town before they'd been shut down. Poor little guy could barely walk when I found him. I loved gambling of all sorts, but I wouldn't stand for betting on animal races. That brute of a man Augustine still ran greyhound tracks out in Riverside, but I managed to ban them in Pasadena. Simply barbaric, if you asked me.

With Lucky happily munching away at sushi, I leaned back against the padded sides of the tub, dipped a strawberry in the warm chocolate, and took a bite. Instant relaxation. After eating a few more berries, I took another sip of the sparkling coconut water and sunk deeper into the tub, letting my hair and sore neck soak in the warm, almost hot water.

Doubts and worries aren't my stock-in-trade, but careful planning still needed to happen. The neural mesh problem was a bad one. And an expensive one. Several weeks of different rare and sometimes illegal drugs hadn't done a thing to stop it. Color me disappointed. This last batch was particularly illicit and particularly expensive. Can't say that I cared for the administration route, either. At least it wasn't injected through the eye, like one of the others we tried. Not only hadn't it worked, that was a nightmare I wouldn't forget for awhile.

And it's not like I ever asked for this crazy implant in the first place. Surgically grafted against my will over twenty years ago, the mesh was inextricably fused with my brain, spinal cord, and some select peripheral nerves. Essentially, the protective coating on the mesh had worn off over time, and now my body was attacking it like the foreign body it really was. Inconvenient for me, since I wasn't a fan of nerve dysfunction.

As a joke, Royce offered to just rip it all out. Great solution, if I wanted to be a drooling, paralyzed vegetable. I was young when it was implanted, and the early scans Royce ran showed that my nerves had grown over the mesh, like old bonsai wires around a sapling, and now it was a part of me. So for the moment, we were just trying to control the inflammation caused by the mesh. Thus far, this last treatment was working the best, and I could only hope it would work for more than a few days.

Some strange part of me was glad Royce couldn't just strip all the mesh. After so many years, I was spoiled; the mesh made me fast. Very fast. Highly disruptive at first, I'd had plenty of years to adjust to the added speed. I was a professional at hiding it, only using it when I really needed it to. It helped create my fortune, and even though my businesses were self-sustaining now, the speed wasn't something I wanted to give up.

That being said, unbearable nerve pain and unpredictable paralysis was not something I wanted to deal with. I pulled a hand out of the water and snatched a bubble from the air. In the blink of an eye, the iridescent sphere popped between my fingers. An average person couldn't have seen me move. Most excellent—the spinal injection was still working. Maybe this would be the cure after all.

Lucky poked his wet little nose over the side of the tub, and I pet his head with a damp hand. He closed his eyes in happiness, and I couldn't agree more. My sanctuary never failed to deliver relief. After nearly falling asleep in the warm water, I finished washing my hair and exited the tub, smelling like clean towels and vanilla. Once dry, I wrapped a black silk rope across my chest, and Lucky followed me back into the bedroom.

With the dim lights and blackout panel blocking the rising sun, the matching black and gold silk sheets on the bed looked even more inviting. I envisioned myself snuggled between the sheets, Lucky asleep in his fluffy designer dog bed on the floor. Briefly, I thought of calling in some girls from one of the clubs, but the idea of sprawling out across king-size bed by myself was too appealing.

Watching the sunrise from my rooftop cabana would have been nice as well, but my motivation was quickly fading. Even though I could take a private elevator up, the idea of accidentally running into Royce wasn't appealing. I had a suspicion he was probably down in the clubs, checking out some of my prime wares. He scoffed at my recruitment pitch in Barstow earlier, but how did he think we hired entertainers? It takes effort to collect premium staff.

Even though the bed was so tempting, I wanted to get one last glimpse of my kingdom before I went to sleep. I flicked a switch on the wall and the blackout screen retracted, revealing a hidden window above the bed. The very first licks of dawn peeked over the horizon, and the endless fingers of neon still stretched out across the city, glowing in the last grips of the night. No doubt—Pasadena at night was a different beast, and when I had the choice, I'd sleep through most of the day.

I flicked the switch, and the screen covered up my beautiful city once again, leaving me with the serene black silk and gold trim of my private bedroom. I yawned, stretched out my muscles, smiling at the familiar little twitches that told me that I was in full control of the extra speed again, the mesh working like it was supposed to, tickling all my synapses into firing a touch faster.

"Well Lucky, I think it's time we took a nap, what do you think? We worked hard today, didn't we?"

He panted and leaned his pointy head against my thigh.

"Sounds good to me." I set his collar to do not disturb so the staff below wouldn't accidentally summon him for breakfast in a few hours.

I caressed his sleek neck, and I was about to climb under the exquisite (and exclusive) Moroccan silk sheets when someone knocked on my door. I inhaled, mouth puckering, toes twitching. When I said do not disturb, I meant do not disturb. Every leader needs a solid eight hours of sleep in order to perform at full capacity.

"What is it? You're violating my request for privacy," I said and waited. If it was a new employee, I would give them a second chance to fix their mistake, since I was in such a good mood. Then I thought it might be Royce again, come to harass me. I put a hand to my chest. Heartbeat felt normal, so I didn't know what he'd be alarmed about.

They knocked again, and someone said. "Important letter for you."

A letter. As in a physical letter? I couldn't even remember the last time I sent someone an actual piece of paper. The postal service closed years ago, so all physical mail was handled by private couriers, some of which, not unlike the one I used earlier in the evening, were pretty darned shady. Not something I felt like dealing with right now.

"Just slip it under the door, please." I tried to keep the annoyance out of my voice, since they were following directions appropriately—high impact messages were supposed to come directly to me, regardless of the time. Bad form to get mad at someone for following the rules, but it was hard to stay neutral when I had been so perfectly relaxed before.

"As you wish, Madam Song." The voice was muffled, and paper rustled as the letter was pushed under the door.

From across the room, I saw the quality of the paper. Heavy cardstock, probably woven silk fibers. I hesitated for just a second. Maybe it could wait until after I rested.

No.

Something this unusual couldn't wait. The curiosity alone would keep me from sleeping. With quick, light footsteps, I flitted to the door and picked up the letter with a thumb and index finger—never knew what real or virtual items might pop out of mystery deliveries. Multiple advanced computing devices could be hidden inside a letter that big.

I shook the letter gently, waiting to see if anything untoward might come loose. Nothing. Now with both hands, I flipped it over. On the front, in thick, embossed script it read, "You're Invited," across the face of the ivory envelope.

Several possibilities came into my mind. Maybe I'd been invited to one of those trendy costume balls, the kind where you dressed up as royalty or fantasy characters. Seemed like the kind of event that might send out that type of invitation.

But something was bothering me, something more than just my gut telling me this was odd. Then I smelled the envelope. Cologne. French cologne. A very particular type of French cologne, sold only in a specific region of the Swiss Alps.

I knew picking up the letter wasn't a good idea.

Fighting the urge to crumple up the envelope and toss it in the trash, I pried open the tight seal, pulled out the invitation card, and read the message inside.

Crumpling the invitation wasn't the correct urge.

I should have set it on fire.

Chapter Five

So much for getting a good night's sleep. Thanks to Augustine, we needed to jump into damage control mode immediately.

In the back of a limousine, I sat with my hands balled into fists on my lap, the soft fabric of a fresh designer suit rubbing against my skin. Today it was one of my favorite ensembles from Aaron Wormak—clean dark grey tweed, broadly patterned blue striped tie, light blue pinstriped shirt, and a checkered pocket kerchief. Hair on point, mirrored sunglasses on my face. All business.

"How the hell did this happen?" I said.

"Beats me," Royce said. "All I know is that you shouldn't be awake right now. This is asking for trouble."

I glared at him. "That's not what I meant. I was talking to Gavin."

Royce rubbed his eyes. "I feel like ass."

"Take it you were otherwise occupied last night," I said.

"Yeah. Looking up ways I might be able to save your life. You're welcome."

"Didn't say you had to come with us. You could have stayed back at the tower and slept." I noticed blood on his collar. "Are you still wearing the same clothes from yesterday?"

He looked down and picked at the stains. "It's possible. Who cares? I spent that time tracking down experimental procedures that might let me yank out that mesh without killing you."

I shook my head. "Come on, we've got express same hour drycleaning right on your floor. I'm going to need to start dressing you if you're going to follow me everywhere."

"Unless your buddy over there is trained in neuroregenerative medicine, you're going to want me around, even if I'm naked."

"He's got a point," Gavin said. "That kind of thing is out of my pay grade." He eyed Royce. "And I wouldn't mind seeing you naked."

Gavin was decked out in black leather—tight pants, fitted motorcycle jacket, more chains, and his blond hair was swept forward into a faux hawk. Ready for some back alley fun.

Royce just laughed. "Come hang out at the gym with me some time." He flexed one of his oversized biceps. "I never wear a shirt."

Didn't surprise me. If I ever convinced Royce to wear some nice clothes, I'd have to get them all drastically altered—his shoulder width wouldn't fit any of the major designers. I imagined his biceps bursting out of an expensive suit, like a cartoon wrestler, and cringed. Thinking of wasting fabric like that was upsetting.

Gavin raised an eyebrow. "I may take you up on that sometime." He looked at me. "Jin likes to make sure I stay in shape. You should come to the Taekwondo studio with me."

"Get a room," I said.

Gavin turned to Royce. "Think you're right—she needs more sleep."

Royce laughed and I resisted the urge to throw coffee in his face.

"Laugh it up. I'm faster than either of you."

"Not for long if you don't let me treat you. After this, you're definitely coming in for a full scan."

"Drink your coffee," Gavin said. "You need to go in there and be sharp. The next twenty-four hours are going to be crucial. This may be our only chance to turn things around."

"While I'm in there, I want you to dig up all the paperwork on this deal. Find the holes. Flush out the rats," I said. "I'll see if I can juice any extra info out of Augustine."

Through tinted windows, Santa Monica boulevard crawled by outside. No mandatory autonomous vehicle regulations in this area—there was enough money in Beverly Hills to protest those laws. I had mixed feelings on the issue myself. I hated traffic, but damn did I ever love cruising in my sports cars. Except now, this traffic was burning up valuable time.

I hadn't actually visited Augustine's new hotel yet, and there was a reason for that. For one, it was obnoxious the way he bulldozed a classic hotel. The Royal Beverly had been a fixture on the boulevard, and somehow he'd weaseled around city planning laws, snuck past community protest organizations, and thrown up the new monstrosity of a hotel in a matter of weeks.

I'd seen the building sketches of the place, but nothing prepared me for the unbelievably tacky structure. Shaped like a gigantic wind sail, the blue and chrome building sailed into the air and towered over all the other buildings on the boulevard. Disgusting. I swallowed a mouthful of coffee and tried not lose my cool.

"Damn, that is ugly," Royce said.

"Oh, so you do have some taste after all. There's hope for you yet," I said.

"He's right. It's hideous. How did this ever get past the city boards?" Gavin said.

"That's what you're going to find out. Whatever happened is going down again. Right in the middle of Koreatown."

"I'm obviously not sentimental about the place like you guys are, but I have to agree with you. That's just messed up. You can't bounce into someone's hood and start tearing things down," Royce said.

"Absolutely awful," I said. "Okay. You boys stay here and work some magic while I grease this weasel."

"I'm coming with you," Royce said.

"Not looking like that, you're not. Augustine will never take us seriously. Stay here and play with Gavin. You've still got my biokey, right? Have Gavin come scoop me up if anything looks amiss."

Royce rolled his eyes, but kept quiet. "Good thing Gavin's got the keys to your bank accounts too. At this rate, I'll need to pick up my fees from your estate."

"Have faith, Royce. Great minds triumph against great adversity."

I stepped out of the car and did my best to believe my own words. Wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep, or a side effect of the injection yesterday, but my stomach was not feeling great. Maybe I just needed to eat something. Skipping breakfast is against my typical rules of conduct. A great day needs to start with a great breakfast. Either way, this was more important than some empty stomach jitters.

I marched right through the doors into the lobby of the new hotel, and ugly or not, I knew money when I saw it, and that place smelled expensive. Expensive and new. New carpeting, fresh metal, fresh paint. Only open for a few weeks, the place was quiet. Good. Maybe local protests would help sink the place. Some other millionaire could buyout the property and bulldoze the place again. Heh. Might be a nice little investment piece for me. I didn't have any commercial properties in Beverly Hills. Yet.

I hadn't warned Augustine that I was coming his direction, but he knew. He knew as soon I'd show up on his doorstep and raise some hell. That was his plan. So the question was, what did he want out of me? Why even give me this heads up? It told me how arrogant he was—he didn't think I could stop him, that it was already too late.

He didn't know who he was dealing with. What Hyojin Song wants, Hyojin Song gets, one way or another. Straight up.

"Well well, so nice of you to join me this afternoon."

Augustine stepped out from a side room in the lobby, clad in a suit nice enough to rival one from my collection. Okay, so he had no taste in buildings, but his sense of fashion was better. With tight grey pinstripes that matched the perfectly manicured grey streaks in his hair, Augustine would fit in at any of the fine establishments that I liked to frequent. I looked closely at his hair—bet that wasn't naturally done. He had his hair altered to fit that sort of style. My color wasn't natural either, but somehow his was just smarmy.

And his accent bothered the hell out of me. Don't get me wrong, I love French everything—especially French pastries, but his accent was so obviously played up and exaggerated, I couldn't stand it. Fake, just like the rest of him.

"Nice is not the word I would choose," I said.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Jinny."

"Don't call me Jinny, Auggie. We've been over this before." One person finds out you don't like nicknames, and suddenly it's all over town.

"Oh yes, my mistake. Well then, what shall I call you?"

"Jin. Just Jin to you."

"In that case I'll ask that you call me Augustine, as a matter of courtesy."

"You wouldn't prefer Mr. LaDouche?"

He cleared his throat. "LaRouche. Why do we not just stick with first names, yes?"

Well, he was already winning in a sense since he'd goaded me into being rude first. I should have saved that honor for him, but it was inevitable that our interaction would end up like this at some point. May as well be first to the plate.

I composed myself, smoothed down my jacket and adjusted the handkerchief before responding. "Indeed," I said. "Would you care to tell me why you asked me here this morning?"

Augustine smiled. "You mean my invitation? I am afraid you are a few weeks early for the opening, but you are of course still invited to the event."

So we were going to play it this way. Why did I think he would be anything but difficult? "Since I'm here so early, why don't you illuminate me? What makes you think you'll get away with building and illegal casino in the middle of Koreatown?"

"Illegal? I think you're mistaken. The permits went through yesterday morning. It's all perfectly legal. Demolition began yesterday evening, and construction should already be underway this morning. I like to get early starts."

Last night? I leave town for one day, and everything falls apart. This is why I didn't go on vacation very often. Just as soon as you let your guard down, the other sharks start swimming by, looking for blood. But Augustine didn't look like a shark to me. More like an eel.

"You mean you slipped some permits through the backdoor and got started with construction immediately so that I wouldn't interfere?"

He laughed. "Why do you think so little of me? In truth, I did hope you might stop by today for a chat. I have some ideas that I think you may be interested in. Would you care for a drink? I'm sorry, it is rude of me to keep a guest standing in the hallway."

Because usually he was just so damned polite. "Drinking in the daytime, eh?" I said.

"You are opposed? It is quite normal where I come from. I did not think you would be concerned on little societal rules such as this."

Even though my stomach hurt, I was going to need a drink if I wanted to get through this conversation without actually setting this stupid sailboat of a building on fire.

I forced a smile. "I would love a drink. Gin and tonic."

"Gin preference?"

I grinned. "The best you have."

"Only the finest in my hotels, I assure you. I shall return in a moment. Have a seat, please."

Sitting sounded good. Conserving energy was the way to go. Probably should have asked for an Irish coffee, or maybe vodka and Energy Pop. Something with caffeine. I plopped down on the couch and almost stood up again when the cushion sloshed underneath me. You've got to be kidding—a water filled couch. Made sense. Just being around Augustine made me feel seasick.

He returned a moment later carrying the drinks and another tray of something. See, he didn't bother to train or reward his staff correctly. There should have been someone there already, pouring us drinks. Didn't matter which if us had more money—I had more class, more experience. Augustine was nothing but a hack.

"Here you are," he said as he handed me the cold beverage. "Would you care for some pastries? I brought this new chef back with me from Europe on my last journey. She is simply fantastic, you must try."

I should have refused, but my stomach growled, and like I said, I had a weakness for French pastries. Maybe some food would settle my insides. I took one little croissant, took a bite, and tried to hide my reaction. Nope, definitely not hiding that. It was so good, I wanted to run back there and steal that chef. I crammed the rest of the croissant in my mouth and nearly had to slap my own hand to keep from taking something else.

"Delicious, is it not?"

I gave him a wry smile and set my drink down on a crystal table that sat between the two couches. Augustine took a seat on the opposite couch, balancing like an expert, not spilling a drop of his drink. Wouldn't surprise me if he spent a lot of time on boats. Wonder what my first clue was? Good thing for him too—looked like he was drinking dark, aged port, and I would hate to see him stain his suit. Even though I hated him, I never like to see innocent fabrics tortured.

I swallowed the last bite of croissant and chased it down with a swig of Gin. Damn, it was smooth. How fast could I kidnap the pastry chef and the liquor cabinet at the same time?

"I've got places to be today. What do you want? Were you just hoping to gloat about how you're better at breaking the rules than I am?"

"A little bit of both, I do believe. You see, I'm hoping to expand my businesses inland, and I need a consultant. Security is such a concern these days, and since I think you know so much about the cheating, I thought perhaps I could hire you as an assistant."

I almost spat out my drink. Not sure what I was more pissed about—the fact that he wanted me to be his assistant, or the fact that he was accusing me of cheating. No, he couldn't know about the mesh. Only Gavin and Royce knew about that disaster. He was probably just giving me a hard time because I had a reputation for winning so frequently.

"I'm no one's assistant. Ever," I said.

"I am sorry to hear this. I do not know if you have heard, but I was also hoping you might give me some advice on our newest part of the business. We have also gotten the approvals for racing. The greyhound racing, it is most popular in other counties. We can make much money this way. You are familiar with the greyhounds, yes?"

No. Oh no. We'd lobbied long and hard to outlaw all the Greyhound tracks in the county. I thought of my adorable little buddy Lucky waiting for me back at Jin Tower and remembered what he looked like when I found him on top of a crate full of other Greyhounds that were already dead. Not on my watch.

My fingers dug into the highball glass, and I didn't even dare move, let alone speak, my mind filled with dead Greyhounds and soon to be dead Frenchmen.

"So you are not the interested? This is a good opportunity, I think you are wasting it. Soon, we shall open another location in the beach. Venice beach. This is a favorite place of yours, is it not?"

No. He had to be bluffing. Last time we checked, there wouldn't any movement on the beach zoning laws for at least another year, after another election cycle.

"You wouldn't dare. Who are you bribing?" I said.

"Do not worry, I have done you a favor. You see, for such early access, it is quite expensive for the permits, yes? I do not think you have the money for this, and so it is best if I am the one to start this process. If you agree, you can simply work for me and still obtain a profit. This is fair, yes?"

He was bribing someone. Hopefully, by the time I got back to the car, Gavin would have figured out who, when, and probably most importantly, how much. Money doesn't just talk in this business; it would also throw in a pole dance as a bonus.

"Who. Who is it? Give me the name of your collaborator," I said.

"I am afraid that would be in poor taste. Perhaps you shall find out in time, in the natural way, but I cannot share that with you today."

"Of all places. You had to put a casino in Koreatown. My home. My people. Is this a direct attack on me? You want to extort me?"

He looked around the empty lobby. "No no, of course not, do not be ridiculous, you accuse me of such crazy things. Americans think of such amazing fairytales."

"I'm not an American. I don't need a slimy Frenchman telling me about my ethnicity."

"I see. My mistake, but you are also mistaken. I am not a Frenchman, I am from Switzerland. It is a beautiful country. If you would like to become my assistant, we can travel there together, so I hope you will consider my offer. My door, you know it is always open, especially for ladies so lovely as you. We can have more croissant, and perhaps other things as well."

In a business meeting, whenever someone calls you a "lady," that almost always means they're not respecting you as a person. To them, you are simply another skirt for them to roll over. Not on my watch. Skirts may be fashionable, but today I was wearing the pants.

I stood up and sidestepped the coffee table, moving too fast, but I was so pissed, I couldn't help myself. Whatever, Augustine couldn't prove anything, and it was totally worth the look of shock on his face when I "magically" appeared in front of him, drink in hand.

He opened his mouth, but I had just about enough. I dumped the rest of my drink right in his lap. At least gin was clear—Augustine punished, fabric saved.

He smirked, unflinching. "I've always dreamed of having Jin in my crotch."

"Enjoy it, because this is as close as you'll ever get, buddy."

I licked the edge of my glass, getting the last taste of gin, and jabbed a finger in his smug face. "I'm coming for you. K-town is mine."

I marched out, hiding my flushed face, moving too quickly again. In seconds I was at the limousine, but I didn't open the door.

Rage. Surprising, unfamiliar rage washing over me. From my toes to my fingertips, blood pounding, filling me with heat. I grabbed my chest, panting, not getting enough air. Tingling in my hands. Not now, not with so much to lose.

Gavin flung open the door, and Royce grabbed me around the waist.

"What the hell are you doing? Get in here," Royce said.

I landed on Royce's lap, and the door swung shut behind me.

Gavin pounded on the window to the driver's compartment. "Go go go."

The car started and something jabbed me in the thigh as we lurched forward.

"Ouch." I tried to sit up, but Royce held me down.

"Stay down. I don't want you to pass out," he said. With my legs elevated over Royce's lap and my head lower on the seat, it was a good position for shock prevention.

"What the hell was that? My leg's on fire."

Royce didn't give me a chance to respond. "It's a steroid. A fucking good one. Can't give you another jolt of that other stuff yet—not unless you want your vertebrae melting, so this dose better work."

"Where did you get it?" I said.

"Don't worry about it."

I tried to sit up again, but one of his big hands on my shoulder kept me down. "What do you mean, don't worry about it? I'm pretty sure that's totally my business."

"Just relax," he said.

Relax? Sounded great, but nothing about this morning was relaxing. Mystery drugs, neural failure, infuriating Frenchmen—not my cup of tea. Although, that croissant had been pretty good. I resolved to find a way to steal his kitchen staff. After I figured out how to get K-town back, and you know, stopped trying to die.

Gavin kneeled down and touched my hair. "What happened in there?"

"I lost my cool," I said.

I tried to rub my thigh, but Royce slapped me away.

"Let it sink in. Don't touch," he said.

"You sure she's going to be okay?" Gavin said.

"Nope. Cross your fingers."

I took a deep breath, collected myself. "Don't be so melodramatic. I just let Augustine get to me, is all. Let me up."

"Just a second—now we can rub it." He grabbed my thigh again and viciously squeezed the muscle. "Need to distribute the steroid into the bloodstream, slowly."

I groaned. "You're an absolute sadist. Gavin, help me or something."

I heard Gavin start to move, but Royce stopped him. "Hey, you want her paralyzed for life? No? Then sit tight for a minute."

"Sorry Jin, not my call," Gavin said.

I gritted my teeth while he mauled my sore thigh. "Fine."

"What's your status?" he said after my leg felt like a flattened chicken cutlet. "Can you feel your hands?"

I wiggled my fingers, couldn't help but sigh with relief. "Yeah. I can."

Royce put his hand on my forehead, his rough, stubby fingers plowing through my eyebrows. "You're still a little hot."

"Why, thank you. Flattery will get you everywhere."

Royce scoffed and Gavin laughed.

"Feel okay to sit up?" Royce said.

"Yeah, let me go you epic beast."

"That's no way to talk about your rescuer."

"Rescuer, torturer, seems like a fine line with your type of medicine, Royce." I propped myself up on my elbows, the soft leather brushing against my skin.

"Slowly. I don't want you to trigger anything," Royce said.

When I was upright again I exhaled, rubbed my face, shook out my fingers, tried to ignore the throbbing in my leg.

"Well, that was exciting." I pulled a bottle of sparkling water out of a bucket of chilled beverages and took a sip. Lemon flavored, refreshing just like I needed.

"She's got quite the definition of exciting, doesn't she," Royce said to Gavin.

Gavin laughed. "She's the most stubborn person I know. Don't stand in her way."

"See, Gavin knows what he's talking about," I said. I cleared my throat. "Okay, that was a small misstep on my part. We need to regroup and get back to damage control."

Gavin looked at Royce, as if to ask if I should even be talking. Royce just rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. "Well, she's alive, sure, go for it, do what you want, what do I know? Not like I'm the region's foremost implant rejections specialist or something like that."

"Modesty is a virtue, you know," I said.

He just stared at me. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. You're the least modest person I've ever seen."

"Guess you haven't met Augustine."

"Sounds like a real piece of work," he said.

"I don't care if you want to argue with Royce, but I need details," Gavin said.

"Not my finest moment, I'll admit to that. He pissed me off, I dropped gin in his lap. He has no intention of playing fair. Asked me to be a servant, hinted that he might know about my implant situation, and claims that he's legalizing Greyhound races again."

"Did you give him any reason to believe he might be right?" Gavin said.

I hesitated. "I lost control a bit. Wasn't feeling well, you know?"

Gavin sighed. "Not good. We'll need to keep an eye on that."

"I don't like it either, but I don't see what he could do anyway. No standard scanners can pick up the mesh. I'm in the clear."

It was true. The stupid stuff was impossible to get rid of, and it was slowly killing me, but none of the common tests had been able to pick it up, thus far. I walked through most scans, without an issue. Royce had to shoot me up with a bunch of dyes and play around with his fancy equipment to even figure out where it was along my neural track, so most standard gaming scans would never identify something dirty on me.

"What else?" Gavin said.

"He got into K-town yesterday evening, already razed a building and started putting up the casino, according to his him. And, he says Venice is already in his pocket, just waiting for the next building permits to go through. Asked me if I wanted to come on board as a consultant. Tell me he's making this up."

Gavin closed his eyes, swallowing his temper. Crap. He opened his eyes again, looking under control, but a pissed off Gavin was not something to mess with.

"No, he's telling the truth, mostly. I figured out who he bribed. Here's the problem. The original cash, we could have afforded, no problem. Now that they know there's a bidding war? Well. Putting an injunction on the K-town construction and delaying the Beach decision?" He pulled out a tablet and tapped the screen, then held it up for me.

I swallowed.

"That's the number?" I said. Way too many zeroes.

"Yeah," he said. "That's going to hurt."

"What's our situation?" I said. Gavin wasn't our primary accountant, but he kept an eye on the books, made sure I was abreast of any financial movements.

"We can do it. But we shouldn't. Bottom line's been hurting since you've been out of the competition circuit, and spending so much on experimental treatments," he said.

Extra burn. I'd let Augustine get the drop on us, and since the neural mesh had been draining my cash reserves, we couldn't even afford revenge.

We stared in each other's eyes, the mutual anger sparking between us, all those years of history, the outrage of someone trying to usurp our rightful territory right under our noses.

He nodded.

I nodded.

"Do it," I said. "Whatever it takes. Make it happen."

Royce leaned over. "Hey, does this mean I'm not going to get paid again?"

Chapter Six

I stood there, my black Monrovi Patel wedge-boots planted on that familiar turf, dug right into the old asphalt on Wilshire Boulevard. The heart of Koreatown for decades, the neighborhood had changed, but so much had stayed the same. Local businesses that had been in that quadrant for decades were still flourishing, even in the harsh economic times. Koreans are survivors, and we do not mess around. Start a war, and we will fight.

Looking at the pile of rubble before me, I was ready to fire the first shots in the war against Augustine. An old couple stood to the side, not crying, but the anguish was clearly painted on their faces. The Tofu Pot had been an institution on Wilshire Boulevard, and now there was nothing left of it. And wouldn't you know it, the owners hadn't been notified that their beloved restaurant was being demolished. Oh, they were being compensated alright, but nothing could replace a building that they had poured their blood, sweat, and tears into for more than half a century.

If someone tried to bulldoze Jin Tower, no amount of money in the world could quench that fury.

In the rubble, the shell of a new building was already going up—wouldn't be long before the structure was complete if we didn't get a temporary injunction on the construction. Gavin had already put in the necessary paperwork, and most importantly, the necessary cash, but nothing was certain. This was all backroom deals, and arrangements could fall apart at any second. Until construction stopped, all we could do was watch the damned skeleton of the devil going up in the shadow of the defunct restaurant.

"Okay, you saw it with your own eyes, you know what's going on, now can we please get back to Pasadena so I can take you to a real clinic?" Royce said.

"We're not going anywhere until the construction stops. We'll sit here for as long as it takes because if it doesn't stop, I'm going to have to take up arson as a new fun and exciting hobby," I said.

"We've still got another problem—this is just a temporary injunction. Once all this backdoor dust has settled, we're going to need a lot more capital to beat out Augustine in the bidding war. Right now everything is frozen, but I don't know how long that will hold out," Gavin said.

Money. We needed more money to buy out the K-Town plot and secure the space Augustine was trying to capture in Venice Beach. Thanks to my troublesome implants, we didn't have the kind of capital on hand. With more time, I could drum up the cash, but it would be too late, and meanwhile, we hadn't figured out a permanent cure for the mesh issue that had been sucking up so much of time and money.

But with big pressure comes big payoffs, and I just had to find a way out of this situation.

I could do it.  
Determination. Planning. These would all pay off.

A piece of stray concrete socked me on the head. I cringed and rubbed the newly forming lump. "Jeez, I can't catch a break this morning." At least it hadn't damaged my suit. If I could get through the morning with my clothing in one piece, that would be an accomplishment.

"Life is dangerous," Royce said, taking a look at my scalp. "That's why it's good to keep me around."

"I thought it we kept you around because of your charming personality," I said.

"That too. I'm a total package."

"Why don't you take that package of yours and find some food for us? My stomach is still growling."

"Fine, you need to eat so you can take more drugs anyway," he said.

"More? What do you think I am, a Tijuana Pharmacy?"

"I'll stop pumping you full of drugs once you stop shorting out like a cheap light bulb."

Gavin motioned with his chin. "There's a little bar across the street—should be able to watch all the action from there, have a snack."

"Oh that little place, I've been there lots of times before. The owner is nice, he'll let us sit there all day if we need to. Sounds good to me," I said, and started walking when Royce didn't complain. Maybe he was hungry, too. Or he was just tired of trying to argue with us.

Inside the bar, it smelled like fresh beer and boiling tofu stew, fried chicken, and noodles. As soon as we stepped through the door, an older Korean man waved us over. Dae-Won Kim, owner of this bar for at least forty years, had inherited it from his parents. He'd survived some tough times—helped defend the neighborhood in the third wave of the Burst Riots. Ugly, dangerous times.

He ran over, hands in the air, speaking in fast Korean. "Jin! What is happening to our neighborhood? Mr. and Mrs. Park across the street, they woke up and their home and their restaurant was gone. They never signed any papers. How is this possible?"

I answered him in Korean. "There is a man behind this, he is bribing officials and forging papers. I'm afraid that we can't revoke the zoning laws, so some kind of casino is going to end up in that spot. I'm sorry."

"I would not mind having a casino in this neighborhood. Good for business. I know you wanted one here for years, but not like this. Not with our historic buildings knocked down. Not with some stranger coming in here, ruining our community."

The sorrow in his eyes, the anxiety, it just strengthened my resolve to drive Augustine out of here, once and for all.

"I'm going to do whatever I can to keep this guy from taking over our neighborhood. Would you mind if we sat here while we try to figure this out?" I said.

"Of course, stay here as long as you want. Whatever you need, I can help," he said.

Gavin waved to him. "Yo, Mr. Kim. You have any more trouble with those punks?" he said in Korean that was riddled with slang.

Trying to get Gavin to use proper honorifics was impossible, but what he lacked in tradition, he made up for in muscle. Sometimes Gavin leant his services to other Korean businesses in need of some...help with discipline problems. He was very persuasive that way.

"No, those troublemakers never dared show their faces around my restaurant again. Thank you for your help," Mr. Kim said. "Are you taking care of Jin? Is the business strong?"

"We've got some other problems right now, but we're going to put a stop to this bullshit, no matter what it takes."

"Gavin. Watch your language," I said.

"Sorry," Gavin said.

Mr. Kim smiled. "It is okay. This terrible day merits some cursing."

"We had no idea this was happening. We've got a temporary fix in place, and we're working on a more permanent solution," I said.

Royce cleared his throat. "I don't mean to be rude here, but I have absolutely no idea what you guys are saying."

Mr. Kim switched to English. "Oh, I am sorry—I sometimes forget what language I am speaking in."

"Mr. Kim, this is Dr. Royce Hallet. He's a friend of ours."

Mr. Kim gave a short bow. "If you are a friend of Jin's, you are welcome here any time. Please to meet you. Come, have a seat and I will bring you something to eat. Do you like Korean food? We have some of the best in town."

He wasn't kidding either. Everything in this neighborhood was delicious. I know I can be a picky eater, but even I couldn't find fault with anything on the menu, despite it being humble pub fair. Tasted like home.

"We'd love some food Mr. Kim. Thank you," I said.

He seated us at a table by the window so we could keep tabs on the construction. If Gavin was right, then all the temporary measures should be in place within the hour, and if they weren't, we were going to need a much bigger pot of gold. Or a much angrier Leprechaun.

"So you're not running a translation implant?" I said to Royce. "I'm surprised."

Royce laughed. "How many implants do you think I have?"

"I haven't patted you down in all your soft spots yet, but I just assumed you were riddled with them."

"Hell no. I'm clean. No implants."

"Isn't that like a tattoo artist without any tattoos?"

"How's that implant working out for you?"

"Point taken, but I didn't choose to have this mesh crammed into my spine, if you remember."

"I know, I know. Anyway, translation implants are a fool's buy. They malfunction all the time, and I won't install them. I've had dozens of cases come in to me for repairs—half the time they cause total aphasia. No thanks."

"I'll remember that if I ever get any bright ideas to cram more hardware in my head after the mesh is fixed."

"Speaking of which, give me your hand," he said.

I hesitated. "Every time I let you get close to me, you stick me with needles. Big ones. In uncomfortable places."

"If you'd just come back to an actual hospital, I wouldn't have to keep saving you from the brink of doom," he said. "No needles. Give me your hand."

Still suspicious, I eyed him but held out my palm. He reached into his pocket and put a fistful of pills into my hand. Had to be thirty different tablets and capsules in there, some no bigger than a freckle, and a few that were bigger than my thumb.

"Whoa, what the hell is all this?" I said.

"Stuff to keep you alive," he said.

"Could you be a little more specific?"

"Stuff to keep you alive, at least for the time being. And to prevent me from having to jam another needle into your brainstem."

"I like how transparent and informative you are," I said.

"And I like how humble and obedient you are."

"So you just want me to take these? Without knowing what they are?"

"I'll make you a deal. You take those pills now, and I'll tell you what they are once we get back to Pasadena. Too many potential ears snooping here, you know? I have trade secrets to protect," he said.

"I don't exactly see how that helps since I'll have already swallowed the meds, but I guess the alternative isn't great." I motioned for him to slide a glass of water at me, and I did my best to choke down the mass of bitter pills.

"Is she always this difficult?" Royce said to Gavin.

"Jin has a certain way of getting what she wants, and it usually works. You seem to have a talent for getting her to see reason. My hat's off to you," Gavin said.

"Yeah, it's called brute force. They call that assault in some circles." I coughed and gulped more water. "My god, those are awful, my mouth tastes like the bottom of an old aquarium."

I was trying not to puke the tablets back out when Mr. Kim saved me—he came by with a full tray of food: numerous little traditional side dishes, and several different entrees. Bibimbap, bulgogi, japchae, fried chicken, kimchi pancake, mandu, and tofu stew.

Before I even said thank you, I grabbed a spoon and put a spoonful of spicy tofu stew into my mouth. The pungent soup washed away the bitterness and warmed my stomach. This was usually perfect hangover food, and while I wasn't actually hung over, it sure felt like it.

I finished swallowing another gulp and looked up as Mr. Kim was unloading the last of the food onto the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I'm just really hungry. Long night. Long morning."

Mr. Kim laughed. "No problem. I'm happy you're here, and happy you like the food. Call me over if you need something. Anything."

He left us alone in the empty restaurant, and I continued digging into the food.

"This tastes so good, even better than usual. I want to dunk my whole head in here," I said.

"That's one way we haven't tried to remove the mesh—just burn it out through your eye sockets," Royce said.

"Very funny," I said.

"You've surprised me yet again—didn't think you ate anything besides food from five-star restaurants. And apparently Leonardo's tacos."

"Those are five-star tacos, and this is some five-star food. Korean food doesn't have to be pretentious." I started in on some of the beef bulgogi and bibimbap. "See, I don't know why people say that I'm a snob, I'm totally agreeable to food of all sorts. I just expect for it to be a quality meal."

Gavin shifted. "Um, Jin, I don't know how to say this to you, but we're going to need to be...frugal...for awhile."

I froze. "Oh. Of course. I know how to be thrifty. No problem."

Both of them burst out laughing.

"What? I was a freaking orphan, I grew up on the streets. I know how to spend wisely."

That was true, but it was also true that I'd grown accustomed to certain...ways of doing things in recent years. It had been a long time since I had to think about my spending, and that had always been part of the appeal of gambling: one lucky night, and the city was your playground, you could buy what you wanted, eat what you wanted, drive where you wanted, make love to whoever or whatever you wanted. Not having that kind of freedom would be difficult.

"Seriously Jin, I'm confident that the construction across the street will stop any minute, but what are we going to do about the bidding war? How are we going to buy out the permits and the new building lots?" Gavin said.

Normally the answer would have been simple: gambling. My solution for everything. More specifically, if I needed big cash, fast, I'd play some tournaments. Easy, fun money, but there was a problem with that. For one, if the mesh wasn't working, I lost my speed advantage, and if I had an episode during a tournament, we'd forfeit all of our bets and end up in the hole again.

I grabbed the beer off the table and drank right from the pitcher. It tasted so good with all the rice and barbecued meat.

"Hey, I said no alcohol," Royce said.

I grinned because it tasted so wonderful—excellent combination. "No alcohol, no money, do I have a curfew now too? I always wanted to relive the regular teenaged years I never had."

"Not buying your sob story, and if you won't follow medical advice, the mesh is going to be the least of your issues. Last I heard you needed a liver to survive."

"Shh, you're distracting me, I'm trying to figure out a solution," I said.

I thought through all the major tournaments coming up both locally and internationally, trying to think of which ones were going to happen in the near future, and which ones would have the biggest payoff.

I turned to Gavin. "Verify the date on this right now. I think I have the solution. The Del Mar Grand FPV Drone Race is in three weeks, isn't it?"

He poked at the tablet and grinned. "Oh yes, yes indeed it is. You haven't raced in that in awhile."

"Yeah, and you know what I did the last time competed? I put a down payment on Jin Tower."

I am extremely good at drone racing. My unnatural speed and visual acuity let me zoom through courses and take out opponents with almost zero effort. It was so easy, it almost wasn't fun, which is why I hadn't done one of the big tournaments for a few years. I made enough money doing other things, and there wasn't much thrill in gambling on something that was a sure bet.

But a sure, quick win was just what we needed now.

Royce looked pained. "So to get the money, you need to solve your mesh problem, or you can't win the race. See, it all comes down to me to save the day. Great. No pressure."

I was about to answer, but my eyelids suddenly felt heavy.

"Jin? You okay?" Gavin shook my shoulder. "Is it happening again?" he said to Royce.

Royce sighed and picked up one of my hands, feeling for twitches. "No, that's not it. She's just an idiot—I told her not to mix those meds with alcohol."

I'm lucky Gavin's nearly as fast as I am—the last thing I remembered was him grabbing my head right before I really did go face first into the tofu stew.
Chapter Seven

I woke up in darkness with the walls closing in, smothering me with cold, still air. Instinctively, I clapped my hands to my ears as a loud banging noise rattled through my bones. Fighting the urge to curl into a ball I threw my hands out again to feel around me, try and figure out where I was trapped.

Just inches above my face, my hands hit solid plastic, and I flailed around, patting the corners only to find that I was in some kind of cylindrical coffin. Being stuck inside a mystery tomb, I did what any rational human being would do: I beat on the walls and screamed until my throat hurt.

The banging stopped, and I wiggled down the tunnel where light suddenly appeared. Light...end of the tunnel. Well, that just didn't look good, now did it? What the hell did I get myself into?

"You just ruined a five thousand dollar scan. Hope you really can win that drone tournament. My fees are piling up again," Royce said as I emerged from the machine.

"What the hell is this thing?" I said, rubbing my eyes.

"High contrast holographic neon magnetic resonance imaging. Needs full darkness for a good scan, which you obviously just trashed."

"I had no idea what was going on—thought I'd been kidnapped by the Japanese mafia again. And that's never fun."

Royce stared at me. "Better not ask what you do in your spare time if it involves random Yakuza kidnappings."

"Life's a gamble."

"You were easier to treat when you were knocked out."

"Did you drug me?" I said, trying to remember what happened before I passed out.

"No, you drugged yourself. I told you not to mix alcohol with those pills. That's what you call a synergistic effect."

"If you'd just told me what those pills were, maybe I would have listened. You ever hear of a little thing called informed consent?" I tried to sit up, but fell back again when like twelve places along my back and hips hurt. "Speaking of which, what the hell did you do to me?"

"Bone marrow biopsy, bunch of blood draws, a few serial spinal taps, a liver biopsy, and one small surgery—managed to get a piece of that mesh out. Let me know if you can still feel the big toe on your right foot."

"Serial spinal taps? As in multiple? Was that really necessary?"

"Probably not."

"What the hell Royce, I'm not your personal science project here." I wiggled my toes. "I can still feel my toes—no thanks to you."

"You mean thanks to me. The mesh situation is even worse than I thought, Jin. That's why I was trying to get a higher resolution image of exactly what pieces have lost the protective coating."

"Other than my hip and my back and my side hurting like hell, I feel fine. That steroid cocktail seems to be working still."

He shook his head. "We can't keep doing that."

"Why not?"

He looked away. "I'll tell you in a minute, once you're settled."

I pointed back at the tube behind me. "Don't you need to finish that?"

"Machine's super finicky. Once it powers down it has to wait a few hours to cool off before I can fire it up again, unless I want it to short out completely. Trust me, you do not want to have to save up to buy another one of these babies. Took me half my career to afford this thing."

I looked down at the hospital gown I was wearing. "Guess you spent all your money on that machine, because these gowns are horrible. What are these, one thread count or something?"

Royce rolled his eyes. "Once you pay my exorbitant bill, maybe I can invest in some better linens. Until then, you'll have to live with it. Or I could just leave you naked."

"It's almost a better option, but no thanks."

"I'll get a wheelchair and take you back to your room. You should rest for awhile."

"I can walk," I said and sat up. With a groan I swung my legs off the platform. "Ah jeez, my hip is killing me, what is that from?"

"That's from the bone marrow biopsy. Had to get a good sample."

I stood up. "I'm no expert, but from the way it feels, I think you accomplished that. What did do, drill all the way through to the other side? I hear bone piercings are all the rage these days."

"I won't do cosmetic bone piercings anymore. Too messy," he said and I couldn't tell if he was kidding or not. Weird things happened in the Undergrid.

"Alright, show me where to go," I said.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're stubborn?"

"Once or twice," I said as I hobbled through a sterile corridor and into the room. Royce tried to put his arm around me, but I waved him off. "Just lead the way." Royce might not have been a shark, but you never know who might be watching. Weakness is death. Everything you do should communicate power over yourself, others, and the environment. Being sick was not on my list of approved activities.

I followed him into a small, but well-appointed room. It was still stocked with medical supplies, but it looked more like a normal bedroom. Some of the linens actually looked decent. The purple and silver color scheme wasn't my favorite, but that was just a matter of personal preference.

"Now this is more like it, that's what I'm talking about," I said and somehow managed to crawl into the bed.

"I have a lot of high-maintenance celebrity clients in here. They won't stay put unless it has certain amenities. Inconvenient amenities, I might add," he said.

"It's sensible to have standards."

"You say sensible, I say annoying."

I had just settled back onto the comfortable pillows when a wet nose poked over the side of the bed.

"Oh my gosh, Lucky!" I said. He jumped up and put his paws on my lap. I pet his head and covered his ears with kisses. Just seeing him made me feel so much better. I finished smothering him with love and he put his paws back on the floor, resting his head on the side of the bed so that his cold nose poked my leg.

"Yeah, yeah I let Gavin bring Lucky over. Normally animals in medical situations are frowned upon, but Gavin said you'd throw a fit if he didn't bring the dog. You're welcome."

"Thanks. That really does make me feel better," I said.

He rubbed his head. "You have been through a lot in the last few days, and there's no one else in the clinic right now anyway. Taking care of you is a full time job and then some."

I was about to thank him some more when I noticed something else on my chest. "What the hell is this?" I said, pointing to a bandage just beneath my collarbone. Wasn't sure how I missed it before, but then I realized that the skin around it was numb.

"I updated your biosensors—should give me your temperature and respiration now in addition to heart rate. Your old implant was way out of date. This one should be harder for nefarious people to hack."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Relax, it's not like I dug around in your sockets and gave you an ocular implant or something crazy like that—although you might need one if your vision starts shorting out again. Some of the deep brainstem visual implants are almost past the experimental phases now."

"You do anything else to me while I was knocked out?" I said.

He looked up for a minute in thought.

"I don't like that you have to think about this before answering," I said.

"You need a lot of work. It's hard to keep track of these things. Figured I'd get as much done while you were sedated—less painful that way. If you prefer, next time I can just dig into your vertebrae while you're awake."

Clearly, not an argument I was going to win, and I needed him. No one else in the country knew as much about these problems who was willing to work off the grid. Speaking of which.

"Oh shoot, Royce. How did you bring me in here?" I said.

Those little Yakuza holidays would look like fun play dates in comparison to what else could happen if someone found out I was injured.

"Relax, I brought you up through the Undergrid. Like I said, I have tons of celebrity clients that have the same concerns. Windows are artificial too, if you hadn't noticed. And bulletproof. It's like a little fortress in here," he said, clearly proud of his little facility.

"You took me through the Undergrid while I was passed out?"

He nodded. "Don't worry—they trust me down there. I vouched for you and so did Leonardo. You're a pain in the ass, but you seem to have friends in a variety of places."

"Relationships are everything in a business. Very important to make connections, you know," I said. "I'm just glad we got through in one piece, with me unconscious like that."

The Undergrid citizens were unpredictable. Not necessarily bad or violent, but they spent most of their time just trying to survive, and that does weird things to people. Like abused dogs, you never could be sure when they might decide to bite.

"Give me some credit." He flexed his sizable bicep. "I'm my own security force."

"One day you'll have to spar with Gavin. See who comes out on top. Where is he, anyway?"

"He's back at Jin Tower, wading through paperwork on all your zoning issues. I told him I'd call him when you woke up, let him know how you're doing."

I nodded. "Please tell me the construction stopped before you left K-Town?"

"The construction freeze worked—not sure how long it's going to last, but Gavin said you bought some time."

"If another sailboat monstrosity went in there, I don't know what I'd do. I've never been to jail for arson, but there's a first time for everything."

"And then he'd just rebuild. In a day. If only every problem could be solved with some simple arson," he said. "Unfortunately, fire's not going to help your situation either."

I adjusted myself on the pillows, wincing as ten different places on my body ached. Royce really did a number on me. As I shifted around, I felt another bandage on my abdomen—that must have been the liver biopsy.

In an uncharacteristically tender gesture, he helped me get into a more comfortable position on the bed. He reconnected some sensors to my chest and hooked an IV line to a catheter that was already in my arm.

"I'll give you some more pain meds in a bit so that you can rest," he said. "You up for a rundown first?"

"About time," I said. "Hit me."

"Here's the deal. I only saw part of the mesh distribution on that scan before you interrupted it, but it does not look good. It's everywhere. And I mean everywhere. All over your brain and spinal cord and spindling out to your arms and legs."

"So you're saying that's a problem."

"Big problem. There is definitively no way I can surgically remove it, and that's usually step one in an implant job gone wrong," he said. "I did pull a little chunk of the mesh out of your low back—might sting a bit later. I had to dig deep just to avoid screwing with your nerves, but I wanted to see if I could get a sample of the original coating."

"I thought it hurt extra bad down there," I said, trying to touch my back, but giving up when just the little movement was uncomfortable.

"Sorry, but that was important. Haven't had a chance to look at it in depth, but I've got some ideas. The mesh I fished out has a non-reactive coating that's wearing off. Your body's attacking all the uncovered places, which is what's causing the massive inflammation problems. Eventually, the whole array is going to go bad. Like stripped wires in a computer. This is a ticking time bomb, Jin."

"What about treating it with steroids? I can't get rid of it, so that's the only option, right? We just need the right combination of meds?"

He shook his head. "That's the other issue. I know you think I'm cruel, but all of that." He pointed a finger at the bandages. "Was for a reason. Regular steroids have side effects. Heavy-duty experimental steroids have even worse side effects. After just a few days of some of these cocktails, there's already big trouble going on inside you."

I swallowed. "What kind of trouble are we talking about here?"

"Like immune system dysfunction and organ failures. The steroids are trashing your liver and white blood cell count—that's why I needed the liver and bone marrow biopsies."

"Wait...that can't be right. I don't feel that bad. Just sore from all your surgical fun times."

"You don't feel bad because it's in the early stages. You're not in liver failure, but it's headed that way if we keep pumping you full of high-dose steroids. Same deal with your white blood cell count. You might feel a little tired, but it's just beginning to drop. If it drops too low, I think you can guess what happens," he said.

I took a deep breath. "I die from some lame infection, like the common cold, right?"

"Exactly. If it drops any lower, we'd need to put you in an isolation ward or something like that, and I don't even have those kinds of facilities here."

I rubbed my eyes, took a breath. There had to be a way to fix this, but I had to admit, it sounded bad, and I didn't think that Royce was exaggerating this time.

"So what do we do? I'm not just going to sit around and wait to die, I'll tell you that much," I said.

He laughed and put a hand on my arm. "I don't know you that well, but I couldn't imagine you giving up. There's another stubborn bastard in this room, and that's me. I love puzzles, and I don't like losing. We'll find a solution—but it's not going to be easy."

"I'm open to suggestions," I said. "What do we do if I can't keep taking the steroids?"

"The good news is your liver should recover and your white blood cells should regenerate—I'm going to start another medication to help speed up that process. But we have to decrease the steroid doses, which means you're going have more flare-ups from the mesh. The steroids are not a long-term solution. Even at a lower dose, you'll start having liver and immune system dysfunction."

"It's just a band aid," I said quietly, and the thought of having more full-fledged mesh attacks was not terrifying. When it got to my vision, I really freaked out. Not into blindness. Not at all. In some ways that was more frightening than the paralysis and nerve pain.

"Before this started happening, you were doing fine, right?"

I nodded. "Yup. Fine and dandy. Never asked for this damned stuff, but it was definitely useful. Supernatural speed has all kinds of applications."

"Basically, if we can't remove it, and we can't neutralize the inflammation, then what we need to do is find a way to replace that coating. Unfortunately, I don't know what will do the job without killing you in the process. It has to be something that we can essentially flow over your nerves without killing them all in the process."

"That sounds extraordinarily painful," I said.

Royce bit his lip. Sheepishness was an odd look for him. "Yeah, I can promise that wouldn't be comfortable—we'd basically have to inject a compound all around your brain and spinal cord and hope that it bonds to the mesh without causing more damage in the process."

"So like a million injections all over my whole body. Wouldn't want to be awake for that."

He coughed. "Um, I could sedate you, but you'd have to be conscious. We'd need to check for neural function after each injection to make sure it wasn't paralyzing you in the process."

"I am just going to think of cupcakes and kittens for a while and forget that you said that."

"The good thing is, we know something like this does exist, somewhere. It was used on the mesh to begin with, otherwise you would have died from this same problem a long time ago," he said. "We just have to find it."

"You have a piece of it now—you can analyze the sample, right?"

"Way ahead of you. We'll wait for confirmation, but I already have an idea of what it might be."

"You do? Wow, you are really good."

"Yeah, you should give me some credit. I'm amazing. You, on the other hand, are entirely useless. I had a chance to chat with Gavin while you were passed out. You haven't been exactly forthcoming about your past."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Are you kidding? What does it have to do with your current problem? Everything. I need the whole story, not whatever bullshit you were feeding me before."

"What are you talking about?"

"Cut the crap, Jin."

"I can't see how this is going to help anything, but sure, fine, I'll tell you my sad little tale. Makes a nice bedtime story, I think. I'm a real rags to rich story. America loves that kind of thing."

"I'm waiting."

"What exactly do you want to know?" I said.

"Everything. Start at the fucking beginning."

"Really? If you say so. Um. I was born here, in LA, in Koreatown, but those were difficult times. The first burst riot waves were rolling through, people in that neighborhood were poor, and my parents abandoned me. You know how it goes. So I made money by gambling, running street hustles. I'm smooth, good looking, a fast talker, always have been. I was living okay, doing my own thing, but once the riots paused, the government had to clean up the mess. That mess included a lot of stray children, and it wouldn't do to just let them run around the city like a bunch of lawless hooligans."

"I sort of remember that. My family lived in Culver City, didn't see as much of the first of the burst riots out there when I was a kid—wasn't until the third wave that we got more involved in what was happening," he said.

With so many restorative surgery options, it was hard to guess someone's real age anymore, but Royce looked natural, and we were probably born around the same time. Shared history can be a powerful thing.

"Lucky you. At that time, South Korea was doing much better than we were, so we started shipping our orphans over there. Lots of birth-restricted parents wanted children, and Asian children were especially appealing. So they rounded us all up and sold us to the highest bidders in Seoul," I said.

Royce made a face. "Not exactly the most elegant of solutions to the problem. Things were really ugly back then."

"Things are ugly now—it just depends on who it's ugly for. That's why I decorate my castles with neon and bright lights. It's up to you to make your own happiness."

"That something you learned after you got shipped back to Korea?"

"Eventually. After a long, difficult time. In this case, luck wasn't on my side, and instead of being adopted into to a nice family, I was bought by a research facility under the guise of a Chaebol—one of the big conglomerate families. They own a lot of things, do a lot of charity, so it wasn't suspicious that they were trying to take in a lot of abandoned Asian-American children."

Royce licked his lips. "They owned lots of other shadow businesses?"

"Exactly. That was my new 'family.' To this day, I don't know what they were planning on doing with this research, but that's where the mesh came from. From them. They rounded us up, experimented on us, tested us."

"Nothing says fun like medical experiments on orphaned children. That's messed up."

"You don't say." I shivered. "Not everyone was a good candidate. Don't ask me how that was decided. They said they went to other homes, but we all knew what really happened to them."

I'm not a sentimental person, but there were certain things I locked away deep in my mind for a reason, and that was one of them. People I'd lost still came back to haunt me in my dreams.

"So what happened to you? How'd you escape?" he said.

"I'm not good at following the rules. I liked to get what I wanted, even then."

"How surprising, you're so laid back and undemanding as an adult."

I smirked. "Funny. Anyway, I escaped because I got caught gambling."

Royce laughed. "That's ironic."

"See, the universe wants me to gamble. I test fate, and fate lets me pass."

"Let's hope your streak keeps up," he said. "But why did getting caught gambling help you escape? Shouldn't you be in jail? I've heard that some Asian countries have really strict gambling laws. Like life imprisonment bad."

"Exactly. Gambling is illegal in Korea. Very illegal. Of course, that didn't stop me. I started a gambling ring at my high school. Cards at first, but then the business grew to cover almost anything you could dream of. You wanted it, I'd help you bet on it," I said.

"And then you got caught," he said. "I thought you were infallible."

I shrugged. "I was a teenager. Got too greedy, went a little too big, got caught by the school officials. Huge offense, way worse than something like drugs, which I've never meddled in."

"Wait. The Chaebol let you go to school?"

"They had to. Korean law. It was an elite school, which made it even worse. More shame," I said.

"What was the punishment? Deportation?"

"Yep," I said. "That should have been the sentence, but I broke out of a holding facility—bribed a guard with money I made while I was in the juvenile detention center. See? Gambling saves the day, every time."

"Clever."

"I probably could have escaped permanently, gone into hiding in Korea or something like that, but I had a job to do."

"What do you mean?"

I smiled. "Didn't Gavin tell you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I got him out of there. He was next in line to get the mesh. Him and another batch of new candidates were up for the operating table the next week. I snuck in and rescued them all."

Royce's eyes were huge. "You got them all out? Wouldn't a place like that have some serious security? No casualties?"

I shook my head. "Did you see that scar on my calf?"

"I noticed that—meant to ask you if that was from the mesh surgery, since there are a few grafts down in that area. Looks like they were trying to boost all your fast-twitch muscle fibers."

"Nope. I was shot in that leg while I was helping them escape the compound. I helped Gavin escape the holding area, but when I was distracted, I got nailed with a bullet. He carried me for miles, helped stop the bleeding," I said.

Royce was stunned, which was a good look on him. Kept some of the snark down.

"How did you get out of Korea after that?" he said.

I grinned. "How else? Gambling, of course. Once I had enough cash, it was easy to rig up some smugglers to help us escape the peninsula. First to Japan, then to Thailand, and eventually from there, back to L.A."

"And you were how old when you did all this?"

"Not quite eighteen," I said.

"Incredible. I have to say, I'm impressed, and I'm not easily impressed."

"Thank you. I'd have to agree—I'm an impressive woman."

"Impressive yes, humble, no."

"Humility is for people without any talent," I said.

"What happened to the other people that you rescued?"

"Several of them stuck with me and still help run my other businesses. Others went off on their own and made their own lives elsewhere."

"Happily ever after," he said.

"Until now."

"What about the Chaebol? If they were experimenting on others, then there should be more people like you with this illegal mesh. Maybe someone else has already discovered out a cure."

I shook my head, closed my eyes for a second. "No. Not possible."

He cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

"They're dead. Everyone's dead."

"Excuse me?"

"None of the others survived the implantation process. I was the only one. I was supposed to save the company from utter shame and ruin, and when I escaped, that was it—the chief project engineer was going to commit suicide to atone for his failures. But he was a real whack job. Decided to take out the rest of the company before he followed them into the afterlife. Huge murder suicide. Look it up."

"And you've never gone back to dig further, try to figure out why they did this to you?"

"The past is the past, Royce. Let sleeping dogs lie." Lucky put his head up when I said dogs, and I stroked his soft tan fur.

"The past is now your present. We need to excavate some old bones."

"Don't you ever watch television? Starting a zombie apocalypse is never a good idea. Let the dead rest."

"You're going to be one of the dead if we can't figure this out. Soon," he said.

"You know as much as I do now. I can fill in other details, but that's all the essentials," I said.

"Half of that is information that would have been useful yesterday."

"It's not like I'm hiding anything. I just didn't think any of that was relevant. None of that seemed like necessary information."

"You've got quite an interesting view of necessary," he said.

"So now what? What's the plan?"

"We stay the course. I'll see if there are any trails to follow, any research I might pick up that can tell me how to restore the coating on that mesh. As for you, what you really need to do is rest."

"Rest seems like a waste of time."

Royce stood up. "I'm going to be selfish here. I've spent a lot of time trying to keep you alive, and right now, the most important thing you can do is get some rest. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I haven't changed my clothes in three days. I haven't slept for more than three consecutive hours in the last few weeks. I know you hurt more than I do, and this is my job, my choice, but I'm not feeling my freshest here. So I'm saying: you can rest, and you should rest. To do anything else is foolish and disrespectful."

I looked at him, and he wasn't kidding. He was wearing the same bloodstained clothes, and his eyes looked like they were being pulled down by ten pound weights—haggard.

"Don't you need me? What if I remember something else useful?" I said.

He shook his head. "Even more of a reason to take a rest. If you've been repressing this stuff for that long, letting your mind rest might let some important details float to the surface."

I flopped backwards, head up, eyes closed. Everything hurt. "You win."

He took my hand and squeezed my fingers. "I know you think I'm a some kind of a greedy Frankenstein doctor, but I don't let people die. I don't give up. I could have a cushy practice next to that horrible sailboat hotel of Augustine's in Beverly Hills, but that doesn't do it for me. I'm here for a reason. If you give up on me, I'll kick your ass, and I know for a fact that Gavin will beat me to the punch."

I opened my eyes and laughed. "Okay, I can take comfort in that, if nothing else. But, forgive me if sleeping doesn't sound appealing. Hate to complain, but I'm in some real pain here."

Royce crumpled. His compact body slumped, curling down over his dirty white coat. After a long inhale he sat back up. "I really am sorry, but I had to do that to you."

My story must have resonated with him. "I understand. Still doesn't make me want to take a nap."

"I'll give you something amazing, I promise. So good you'll forget your name and dream that you're Tinker Bell."

He turned away and drew up a few syringes—some were clear, some were jewel-toned, but all of the needles were big, and I didn't want to know where he was planning to stab me.

I swallowed.

He finished preparing the drugs and put the syringes on a tray next to the bed.

"Truthfully, I needed you awake so I could ask more questions, otherwise I would have forced you to sleep and recover for several days. My regular clients would never feel this kind of discomfort, and I'm truly sorry for that."

"Just tell me none of those needles you're playing with over there are going anywhere unfortunate," I said.

He shook his head. "All IV. I've already got lines started, so you shouldn't feel anything. And with that new monitoring device of yours, I should be able to make sure you're doing okay from anywhere in the county. You can relax, and I can relax without having to guess if you're suddenly crashing."

I touched the bandages on my chest. "At least this is useful, I guess. Not sure how I feel about you having access to my bodily functions at all times, but for now it seems better than the alternative."

"I will gladly relinquish access to your implants once you're stabilized. I have more than enough other things to deal with—snooping on your heart rate just for the sake of creeping is not high on my activity list."

"I don't know whether I should be flattered or offended," I said.

"Just focus on being alive," he said. "Alright, any other pressing things coming to mind?"

Nothing came to mind, but then again, I was being distracted by the little bits of pain all over my body. "I don't think so," I said.

He held up a syringe. "Okay then, speak now, or hold your peace for several hours. I'm going to give you a whammy so that your body can have some time to heal."

"You sure you just don't want some rest yourself?" I said playfully.

He gritted his teeth. "Don't even talk to me about rest. While you're busy sleeping, I'm going to be digging around trying to figure out a long-term solution to your issue. Losing is not something I'm used to, and I'm going to get to the bottom of this mess."

"I say this as both a friend, an employer, and as a client, but I'd like for you to get some sleep as well. For some reason, I'm not into being hacked open by a sleep deprived physician. I hear insomnia can give you dexterity and sanity issues."

"Don't worry about me. And with you safely resting, maybe I can catch light nap," he said.

Somehow I doubted that. Royce seemed even more stubborn than I was, and I wished I had access to his full biometric profile—see how much he'd been sleeping and eating in the last few days. My guess was that it was probably disturbingly low.

"Better make your nap extra long. I hear I can be a handful," I said.

He wiggled one of the syringes. "Don't worry, this will keep you occupied for several hours. Just don't fight it. I don't want to compromise your respiratory system by giving you a monstrous dose. If you wake up, take a few breaths and try to fall back asleep, but if you're really in bad pain, hit the buzzer. I'll make sure you're comfortable."

He stuck one of the needles into the IV port and injected the contents.

"Oh my god, what is that? Everything feels amazing," I said.

He smiled. "Told you I would take care of you. People literally kill for this stuff, and it's expensive as hell, so enjoy the ride."

My arms flopped at my sides, and I struggled to keep my eyes open. I'm all for escapism, but drugs weren't my thing. I preferred other thrills, but I suddenly had a newfound appreciation for people with substance issues.

"Feeling better?" he said.

I made some sounds that I wasn't proud of, but I couldn't help it.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said. "Okay, next shot should put you out for awhile. Rest hard, and be ready to wake up and fight."

He slipped the needle into my IV port, and as my lids closed, I saw the whirring rolls of a slot machine passing by.

I crossed my fingers for all cherries.
Chapter Eight

Sorry Royce, but as much as I appreciated your help, sometimes you just have to listen to your body, and my body definitely needed the open road.

With Lucky in the passenger's seat, I sped down the freeway, top down, smog and salt in my hair. Your mind is as important as your body, and I needed to clear my head.

When I left the clinic, Royce was passed out, finally sleeping next to a holonet terminal. Couldn't blame him for falling asleep—looked like he was researching a bunch of chemistry stuff. He fell asleep with his head right in the beam, with little 3D chemical models dancing across his face. His glasses were smushed on the bridge of his nose, and I carefully removed them. Seemed like the least I could do. He was going to be furious when he woke up, but I absolutely had to get out of there.

I couldn't go home to Jin Tower, since Gavin would send me right back to Royce. He let me get away with whatever I wanted to do normally, but in this case I had a feeling he was going to put his foot down. He loved me more than he loved himself, and I was surprised he didn't leave a security detail posted around the clinic, as much to keep me in as to keep troublemakers out.

I'd lucked out. No guards. Free and clear.

The night was mine.

Cruising down the freeway, with the hardtop of the Lotus transformed back into its convertible form, shifting through all the gears, I felt like I owned the road.

I loved that damned car.

Lucky had his own seatbelt, and he put his head up into the wind, loving all the smells and sounds as we whisked past the financial district with all its glassy high-rises. In just a few miles, I'd have to put the AI back in control of the car. After that, I wouldn't get the pleasure of surfing the pavement under my own control, but that might actually be nice for once. I could kick back, pet Lucky, enjoy the breeze, celebrate the brief moment of freedom.

No big deal. Once we made it to the beach, I could kick it back over to driver control and really put the Lotus through its paces.

I had planned to cruise up from the south all the way up through Santa Monica, maybe take a jaunt up Mulholland Drive (I had a permit to go up there—very expensive to access by car), but as soon as I hit Venice, I had to stop.

With my own eyes, I needed to see that Augustine hadn't gotten around the injunction.

After just a few miles of autonomous driving, I clicked off the autopilot, grabbed the gearshift, and took the exit for Venice Beach.

Even without any casinos or the familiar clinking of pachinko machines pumping out ball bearings, Venice beach already looked like Eagle Rock. Bright neon everywhere, flashing onto the busy strip of beach where the crowds milled about, looking for some action, looking for some strange, looking for the right pill to make everything feel just right again. We all needed a fix—everyone had a vice.

Mine? Mine was simple.

It had been days since I'd seen any casino action, and my hands ached for a pack of cards or the handle of a slot machine. Double VR pinball—I could go for a round of that. Not that I could trust betting on anything right now. My spine was a ticking time bomb.

I inched through the throngs of people pushing their way through the narrow Venice streets. I liked the look of the restored canals, but it certainly didn't help with the traffic. The city was doing a decent job of keeping the water clear, and drowning deaths were down, but Venice always did have a rough edge about it—lots of people stumbling around on various substances, and attempts at cracking down the drug scene never had much success. Venice had always harbored an interesting mix of muscle-headed exercise junkies and sleazy underground activities, and it would be the absolute perfect place for a casino. A fantastic den of vice, right by the sea.

As I got closer to the beach, it smelled heavily of Venice, and that was nostalgic in and of itself—always someone smoking something, always a mix of too many perfumes, pub grease, piss rotting in the gutters, sweaty humans all crammed together and making bad decisions.

Not my kind of smell, but it was my kind of crowd, and it brought back memories of many fine hustles in days past. Before I went legit, I ran a mean game, and when I returned as a teenager with souped up reflexes, that extra speed helped me escape from more than one game gone awry. Some people are just sore losers. Gavin was a brawler, but I preferred to dash away, escaping to the next hustle, the next game.

With the streets heavy in my nose, the ocean chimed in too, bringing in more salt breezes and seaweed to the mix, all that artificial sand blowing over the thin strip of beach. I wanted to touch that water, but the thought of trekking through the sand with my sore hip wasn't appealing—that bone marrow biopsy really did a number on me. What'd he do, suck out my whole thighbone or something? Well, since I didn't want to walk, there was a simple solution.

I hit a button on the Lotus' dashboard and I felt the extra torque engaging in the wheels, coming up through the steering wheel and into my hands. I honked at some of the loafers taking up space on the beach as I eased the Lotus onto the sand, and it glided over the rough surface like it was the smoothest bit of road. Nothing could stop me in this car.

A few people cursed at me, but I waved them off and they want back to whatever haze they were wandering around in—booze, pills, electroweed—all the drugs that were making the rounds that evening. Every night it was something different. Venice was always walking a tightrope between a fun land for the morally flexible, and just a total cesspool.

It was also a playground for VR heads and implant junkies. First, Venice, then the Undergrid if you went too far. It's like implants were addictive—get one, and then suddenly you're riddled with them. Some implants disqualified you from gambling, but VR addicts made great casino clients. Compulsive, chronically understimulated, and usually running in a fog of psychoactive compounds, they would sit at a podium or a private gambling box for literally days.

After more than a day of straight gambling, we requested access to basic biometric data. Following an assortment of negligence suits, we took a greater interest in monitoring the gamers for homeostasis failures. Especially the VR enthusiasts—they tended to jack in and forget that their physical body needed things like food, water, and sleep. People still died that way, but I tried not to let it happen in my casinos. Nothing's worse than giving perfectly good money to a lawyer, and I preferred my hot tubs and casino buffets to courtrooms.

I pushed a button and the top on the Lotus materialized, little bits of metal clicking and flowing together until they formed a seamless roof. That never stopped looking cool. When the wheels were just about to touch water, I threw it in park and Lucky stared at me, nudging me with his nose.

"Do you want to come with me boy? Or stay in the car?"

He panted and poked me again, and I took that as a sign that he wanted to come out and play. "Okay," I said. "But no running, I can't move that fast right now."

Actually, technically, I think I could. Even with the steroid doses lowered, nothing felt glitchy. Maybe Royce was right and the sleep really had been helpful. I flicked my hand in front of my face a few times, watching it move back and forth unnaturally fast.

Excellent.

Luck was with me, for the moment.

I stepped out of the gull wing doors and into the sand. Smoothing out my suit, I took off my shoes. Tragic that I had to wear the same clothes I had on several days ago. The fabric was rumpled, and there were stains on the lapels from when I'd almost face planted into my tofu stew. I shivered.

Absolutely tragic.

These things were going straight to the dry cleaners when I got the chance. Venice wasn't a clothing mecca, or I would have purchased something else, but I also needed to save my pennies. Not something I was naturally good at anymore, and honestly, if I'd been within arm's length of a Julian Rialto boutique, I totally would have snagged one of the dresses from her newest line that came out last Monday.

My outfit was less than ideal, but it was dim on the beach, lit only with swatches of bright light from the neon-coated businesses and the little bit of moonlight that reflected off the ocean. Nice night, warm summer breeze. Things were bad, but they could be worse.

Royce could have caught me before I escaped his torture shack for the evening.

And I wouldn't be enjoying this gloriously tawdry beach.

Hopefully he was getting some good rest. No one performs at their optimum when sleep deprived, and I expected the best service from all of my employees, including him.

Head up, arms out, I dug my toes dug into the sand, and then looked at my watch. Fabulous. Just after the hour, which meant drones had already gone by and swept the beach for trash. For a while, you couldn't walk on any beach in this county without getting an unwelcome syringe or razor blade in the heel. Now I could burrow my feet into the cool little grains without having to worry about picking up Hepatitis Z or some other nasty virus. That's the kind of technology I could get behind.

Useful though they were, the worker drones weren't my favorite bot. Racing drones. First person view, hyper speed, holographic, combat racing. That's where the action was—I'd bet on anything, but even though I loved all the VR Pinball and classic card games, nothing was quite as fun as FPV drone races. Nothing quite like the thrill of feeling like you're zooming around the sky at three hundred miles per hour.

I'd never flown a drone before I had the mesh, but with it, I was unstoppable. The stuff was wrapped around my retinas and my visual cortex, so I did a great job of tracking movements and spatial details. I saw obstacles and problems before they could happen, and it made me feel utterly invincible on a racetrack.

The thought of not being able to do that anymore made me almost as sad the thought of losing my casinos. Total devastation. I shook my head and tried not to let pessimism take hold.

There was a solution out there.

And we were going to find it.

I closed my eyes for a second and listened to sounds on the beach—all the people on the boardwalk chatting and jostling against each other. And behind that, the rhythmic pulsing of waves lapping at the newly cleaned shore. The breeze pushing piles of sand into the water. The stray seagulls making shrill caws, probably mad that the drones had stolen their garbage snacks. They'd have to look elsewhere for trash to munch on.

With Lucky at my side, I carefully padded my way to the water, stopping when my toes hit wet sand. My hip twinged, but I forgot all about it when the water hit my toes.

Home. Right where I belonged. No matter what happened, I always found my way back to L.A. Nothing is permanent—we can always tear it down and rebuild it again. A powerful sense of focus and relief washed over me.

I had beaten the odds before.

I would do it again.

Lucky leaned against me, and his warmth was comforting. Like me, he'd come out of a truly awful situation and managed to flourish. I would never let something like that happen to him again. Augustine could take his greyhound races and shove them up his ass.

I turned back around and gazed at the long banks of businesses that stretched to the north, glowing in the darkness, tiny dots of debauchery lighting up the shoreline.

This would be mine.

I knew where I wanted to go.

"Come on Lucky, let's go."

I got us back in the Lotus and left the beach, steering around some blacked out fuzzheads that were lying unconscious in the sand. Once I cleared the bums, there was a second challenge: parking. The scourge of L.A.

But for me? Not a problem. I had an elite level fast-pass, which opened up primo parking spots and insta-valet services that were unavailable to the general public.

I found a space just around the corner from my destination, and the permit in my dashboard beeped as the parking meter flashed in recognition. From my convenient parking spot, it was just a few feet to my destination, and my hip and lower back thanked me for that—some of the pain meds must have been wearing off, because my back was starting ache.

All pain could be endured. I would live through it. This, I promised myself.

I rounded the corner, and the old arcade just as it always had been—no sinister evidence of Augustine about to start construction. The front window sparkled with a thousand lights dancing across old video game cabinets, flickering in my eyes as I quickly scanned the activity inside, automatically switching over into hypertracking mode, taking stock of everything that was going on inside. How many people were in there, what they were playing, what their scores were, what they were wearing, what color their eyes were—I got it all in an instant, and seeing all that action made my brain feel alive. When the mesh was working right, it was great. No wonder I didn't need drugs—my brain was its own narcotic.

Old, oversized theater bulbs lined the doorway. A few around the bottom were broken, and the ones at the top were coated with years of dust and grime, but it was impressive that they still worked. They'd been there since I was a kid.

I'd spent so many hours in this place, playing the games and running my little gambling plays. I was creative—I could come up ways to make a gambling racket out of anything. The owner of the place had always been nice to me, and didn't seem to mind if I was running some business on the side. I brought in more business, helped the place stay on its feet.

I knew for a fact that the owner was going to retire soon and sell this place. We'd already spoken about it before. Whether the zoning laws changed or not, I was planning on buying it from him once he was ready. I'd make sure that nothing bad happened to this landmark, and perhaps I could even make some of my old side-gambling games into a legitimate racket. Should be easy enough to convert some of the machines without destroying their integrity.

Either way, I wouldn't let this place get destroyed or go to waste. Might even keep everything the way it was, make it part of the interior lobby, try to bring back the retro gaming scene. Within these walls, there was probably over a hundred years worth of video game technology spread out over the vast floor of beeping machines.

The front of the business was filled with the newer machines, some of the earlier VR prototypes and that sort of thing, but the best machines were hidden in the back. Those were the games from my childhood, the ones I had probably played a million times.

I opened the door and Lucky followed me inside, perfectly calm even as we were enveloped by the roar of hundreds of arcade machines all firing at the same time. He lived inside a gigantic casino, after all. This was probably calmer than what he was used to having at home. I walked slowly, trying not to limp—like I said, never can be too careful about showing weaknesses in public, and now I was extra paranoid. Wouldn't be far-fetched to think that Augustine might be monitoring this place.

In the back corner, there was a cluster of classic pinball machines, the kind before even the earliest of the VR prototypes, and way before they added the competitive chance modules and payout scales that we used in my casinos now. One might think that the game would be simple, way too easy without having to shuffle with a VR overlay, but I think you'd be wrong. Some of the old pinball machines were truly challenging, just from a stamina point. I'd seen people go for more than twenty-four hours on the same game, which never happens with VR pinball. It's even more fun to watch the old school method of long-play pinball when there's money involved.

Money on the line makes anything more exciting.

I approached the machine and put my hands on the flipper buttons. Touching it made my hands tingle with excitement, like the mesh had a mind of its own and was ready to wake up and play, just like old times. The electricity sang all the way up my arms, and I swear, I could feel it in my spine. I waved my watch in front of the machine to deposit a credit, and the thing came to life. Lucky sat by my side and watched the flashing lights as a ball dropped into the chute, ready to be launched.

I pulled back on the hammer, and the ball shot up to the top of the machine, instantly pinging back and forth across the bumpers, zooming around and around at incredible speeds as I expertly flicked the flippers to keep it whizzing about, picking up points with ease. This was one of the mid-year machines, not VR overlaid, but faster than the oldest models, and that required extra skill—these were the things that were in vogue when I was a kid.

All my focus went into that game, and the rest of the world melted away into the exciting pings and dings as the pinball rocketed around the board.

Maybe being engrossed in a pinball game wasn't the smartest idea to begin with. I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone put a hand on my shoulder.

"You eyes in the back of your head. I can't always be there to watch your back, Jin. Especially if you keep running off like this," Gavin said.

Rats. Busted. I closed my eyes for a second and let the pinball fall down the gutter. The game made sad electronic noises as I lost the round and it returned the ball back to the chute. I turned around.

"You might be right about that. How did you find me?" I said, suddenly worried that Royce had installed some kind of a tracking device in my sensors.

"Just had a feeling. Didn't think you'd want to go to K-Town, and you knew I wouldn't let you come home to the Tower. Figured this was the most likely place you might turn up," he said. He was wearing another great outfit—Navy blue military coat that was festooned with gold chains across the lapels, and a matching hat with a red band, more gold embellishments, and a shiny black visor. More gold chains wound around his wrist, over the coat sleeves.

"You look stunning," I said, jealous that I was in such a shabby condition.

"If you come back with me, I'll make sure to bring you a change of clothes," he said, like he was reading my mind.

I laughed. "You know me too well. But you're also a liar. If I go back, Royce will just put me in another hospital gown so I can be ready for his next round of experiments."

Gavin put his hands on my shoulders. "Sorry this is happening to you again."

It meant a lot to me—of anyone on this planet, he was the only one alive that really understood what was going on, what I had been through before, and how devastating this all was.

"I guess you want us to get out of here."

He frowned. "You're sick. I know you don't like it, but this is serious. We can't let everything we've created fall apart. You have to get better—not just for yourself, but for all of us."

"Jeez, that's a downer if I ever heard one. Also, keep your voice down—never know who might be listening."

He really did know how to hit it home— now I felt genuinely guilty. I employed a lot of people, and if I went out of business, there'd be an epidemic of sad, jobless people lurking around Pasadena.

"You know it's true," he said. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Well, that just twisted the blade in my heart. "Good to know someone still cares about me." I put my arms around him and gave him a deep, real hug. Lucky nudged Gavin's leg, jealous of the attention. I stopped hugging Gavin and gave Lucky a nice scratch behind the ear. "If nothing else, I've got you two."

"You've got Royce, too. I think he cares about you."

I scoffed. "He's got a damned funny way of showing it. If that's love, I don't want any part of it."

Gavin shrugged. "He's a good guy. I like him. And he's absolutely furious that you ran away. I'm putting you in charge of making amends."

"Look, I'm doing fine, see?" I waved my hand in front of his face. "I had to get out of there. Did you hear what he did to me?"

Gavin nodded. "He told me about it. Sounded awful, but also necessary. You know better than I do—you can't run away from your problems."

I smirked. "Ha, that's where you're wrong. How do you think we ended up back here again? Running away from our problems. Otherwise, we'd still be back in that god awful Chaebol prison."

Gavin bit his lip. Neither of us liked thinking about those times.

"You got me there," he said. "And you might be somewhat right in this situation again. Royce thinks that the answer to all this might be back in Korea."

I froze. "What do you mean? We can't go back there. You know I can't go back there."

He sighed. "There's got to be a way. We'll find a way. Royce wants me to bring you back to the clinic, and then he'll brief us on his findings. That's if he doesn't murder you first. Guy nearly made me go deaf screaming over the phone. I think he needs a longer nap."

"Great. Can't wait to deal with that."

"So you'll come back with me?"

"I'm stubborn, not stupid."

He smiled and pointed at the pinball machine. "This one was always my favorite."

"That's right, I forgot. I used to think you'd break this thing from playing it so much," I said.

He moved around me and punched buttons until the high scores displayed in orange digital numbers. His initials were still first, followed by mine.

"You may be the boss," he said. "But I'm still the master of this game."

I grinned. "I'm totally going to come back here to whoop your ass once we're past this mess."

"It's a deal," he said. He motioned to the exit. "Shall we?"

"How did you get here?"

"Took my Kawasaki," he said.

"Did you pick up any heat?" I said. He only used the Kawasaki during real emergencies—it was retrofitted to bypass the autonomous drive control fields.

"Don't worry. I've got that thing so modded out, no one will catch it."

"You were really worried," I said, not wanting to know just how fast he drove here.

"Royce did a good job of impressing the severity of the situation on me. Somehow, that doesn't seem to be working for you."

"I'm a skeptic. I require ample evidence."

"Jin," he said. "If we don't get moving, your dead body is going to be the only evidence we need."

Chapter Nine

"I can't believe I'm letting you drive," I said. "I wouldn't let anyone else sit in that driver's seat."

Gavin raised an eyebrow. "I do love this car. Remind me to steal it from the garage more often."

"You wouldn't dare," I said, but it was playful. "What are you going to do with the Kawasaki? I don't care how small you can transform it down, I don't want grease marks in the Lotus."

"I'll just have it drive itself home."

"I didn't know you retrofit it with a remote kit. Is that approved for use in motorcycles?"

"Maybe not. They're working on it, but it doesn't matter. It'll be riding cloaked."

I gave him a sideways look, but let it go. What other things was he modding when I wasn't paying attention? Gavin and I both liked a little bit of risk in our lives, but he was worse than me. Would suck to have him tied up in the legal system for a stupid slip like that.

"I'm going to call Royce and let him know that we're on our way back. That way he's ready if something happens to you. Can't take any chances here."

"No no, don't call Royce, just send him a text or something. I don't want to deal with him over the phone."

Gavin gave me a look and then punched the keys to make a phone call through the Lotus' dashboard controls. After a few rings, Royce picked up.

"Gavin?" he said over the car's speakers. "Did you find her?"

"Mission accomplished. I'm riding legal so it will take a bit longer to get back once we hit the enforced zones, but we should still be back within the hour."

"I don't need a babysitter, thank you very much," I said.

"Is that her?" he said. "Goddamn it Jin, I'm going to murder you before that mesh has a chance to finish you off. What the fuck were you thinking? I'm busting my ass to keep you alive, and you go on some fucking midnight joyride? I should walk away from this, right now."

But I knew he wouldn't. He was in too deep with me, too wrapped up in the mystery. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Excuse me if I was tired of being your own personal circus freak and human lab rat. That clinic was suffocating me to death," I said.

"You've got some messed up priorities, lady. The nerve. You know how many hours I've been awake trying to solve this thing?"

"Not many, considering you were totally dead on the desk when I snuck out."

"I mean regular, real sleep. In a bed. After a hot shower and a hot meal," he said.

"You know Royce, that's an excellent idea. I'm starving. Meet us out at Leonardo's if you're so anxious to see me. Mama needs a quesadilla."

***

We pulled up outside of Leonardo's, his truck glowing underneath the sign for the underground mall, open for business. I missed the ocean breeze, but it felt good to be back in Pasadena, on my own turf. If Augustine ever set foot anywhere near here, I'd know instantly. Gavin had this whole city wired, and it didn't take long for him to get a bead on anything new and crazy happening in our slice of the county.

"I can't believe I'm letting you do this," Gavin said.

"I can. You know deep down that I'm harder to tangle with than Royce. And I'm very unpleasant when I'm hungry and don't get what I want."

"At least you're self aware," he said.

"I have excellent perceptual skills, as you know."

I pet Lucky and told him to stay in the car while we got food. He didn't seem to mind. Guess the beach and the arcade was enough excitement for one day. Despite being racing dogs, greyhounds are basically big lazy cats in a dog's body. Lucky would be totally happy snoozing the rest of the night. With Lucky settled, Gavin and I got out of the car and approached Leonardo's truck.

"Leo," I said. "How's tricks?"

He peered at me in the darkness, pink light from the mall sign shining on his face as he leaned into the parking lot.

"Jin," he said. "Are you okay?"

Oh. Right. Royce had brought me into the clinic through the Undergrid, meaning Leonardo had seen me while I was unconscious. How embarrassing.

I cleared my throat. "Hanging in there," I said cheerfully.

He hesitated, then, "You sure you should be out here? Where's Royce?"

I shifted, painfully aware of how scruffy I looked, especially next to Gavin and his amazing outfit that I was totally going to steal from him when he wasn't looking—benefit to being the boss: I have all the keys.

"Royce will be joining us shortly, because apparently I need not one, but two babysitters. Be prepared—he's not going to be happy."

Leonardo nodded slowly. "I see. I'll be ready. In the meantime, what can I get for you?"

"I'm going to need a whole mess of quesadillas. Make some for Royce, too. He sounded cranky as all hell, and I'm pretty sure your tortillas are magical."

He laughed. "You got it. Coming right up."

I shifted on my sore leg, resisting the urge to lean on Gavin or sit down. It was too late to avoid letting Leonardo know what was going on, but that didn't mean other eyes couldn't be watching. Sounded paranoid, especially in my own hood, but there were drones everywhere, and they got smaller and smaller every day.

Headlights flashed in the street, and a dirty white low-rider swerved into the parking lot, stopping just a few feet from the Lotus, white exhaust pluming into the air from the tailpipe. Royce flung open the door, shoulders wide, fists balled at his side. He stalked across the lot and jabbed a finger in my face.

"Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. I could strangle you with my bare hands!" he said.

Gavin moved instinctively, lowering his stance, discreetly shifting into striking range.

"Whoa. Royce. Calm down. You're going to burst a vessel or something," I said. "And I'm pretty sure strangling me would be against the Hippocratic oath."

Royce just made some incoherent primal grunt in response, the muscles in his thick neck straining as he clenched his teeth together.

"Cool it," Gavin said.

"I'll cool it when my client stops trying to sabotage all the effort I'm putting into trying to save her life!"

With an echoing zing, steel flashed down between us. I looked up to see Leonardo's solemn face, brows furrowed as he held a long katana with two hands.

"That's just about enough of that," he said. "You're going to attract the wrong kind of crowd over here, you dig? That's bad for my business. That's bad for Jin's business. No one wins."

Gavin didn't even flinch, and I was used to this sort of thing from Leonardo, but Royce looked like his eyes were going to burst out of his skull.

Royce took a huge breath, and I watched the veins in his neck and forehead relax.

"Fine. But I'm not going to put up with much more of this crap. I've got other things to do," he said.

Leo picked up his katana, and I realized that he had actually sliced a quesadilla in half with it. "Here—eat this before you blow a gasket," he said and flung one of the halves at Royce.

He frowned, but took the quesadilla and bit into it. His expression immediately softened. That's what I was talking about—just a little munch is all it takes to tame the beast. See, I have good ideas.

"Better?" Gavin said.

Royce eyed him, but kept eating. Leo slung more plates at us, and my mouth watered. The last time I'd had solid food was back in K-Town, right before I passed out. That was almost three days ago. I think. Time was getting all muddled together. Not a good sign. I preferred not to have scrambled brains for breakfast.

I grabbed a few limes and squeezed them onto my tortillas before taking a bite of that cheesy goodness. Crisp on the outside, warm and gooey on the inside, full of lime and salt. Leo really knew how to make them.

Gavin nibbled his plate as well, and after a few minutes everyone looked a lot more relaxed. I eyed Royce who was still breathing heavy, but he no longer looked like his head was going to explode.

"Your car is still running, by the way," I said and tried to get a better look at his car, realizing I'd never seen him driving before—I'd always been the one picking him up.

Royce looked over his shoulder. "I'll get it in a second," he said over a mouthful of food.

"Wait, is that thing not even equipped with an autonomous driving module?" I said incredulously. "You can't even take it on freeway."

Even Gavin looked surprised at that one. He was more of a speed demon than I was. "You should have told me," Gavin said. "I'll let you borrow one of my cars."

Gavin was also more generous with his vehicles—I don't let anyone touch my cars.

"Do you like, take the bus or something?" I said.

"If someone would pay their medical bills, maybe I could buy myself a little doucherocket like that thing you're driving," Royce said.

Eep. Maybe we should stay away from the subject of money. I wasn't used to being in a position where I needed to be cautious with my cash.

Leo twirled the katana over his shoulder. "Keep it clean you guys. I want you leaving with full bellies and a full set of fingers. No shenanigans at the taco truck. Got it?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "I like the way you roll, Leo. You keep it straight."

"Can't have any nonsense at the mouth of the Undergrid."

With everyone fed and perhaps forcibly calmed by Leo's persuasive suggestions, we all looked a lot more reasonable. I felt more centered. The trip to the beach had totally been worth it.

I sighed. "Alright, I guess I'll submit to being managed. I got my beach and my tacos. I'll go back with you now, if I absolutely must."

Royce suddenly looked deflated, like he was being fueled by rage, and now he was just a limp balloon without any helium. That exhaustion was taking over, and I noticed that he was still wearing the same outfit.

"Wise choice," Leo said.

"But if I go back with you, you have to promise one thing—that you'll take a shower and change your damned clothes. You look worse than I do."

Royce made a wry face. "Thanks. But going over to the clinic isn't what I had in mind. Going under is more like what I was thinking of now."

I peered at him, his sweaty face glinting in the streetlights. "What do you mean?" I said.

"We need to go to Korea," he said.

Gavin and I stared.

"You mean, like, South Korea?" I said.

Royce laughed. "Yeah, if you want to go to North Korea, you can plan that trip alone."

Nuclear fallout was still clearing out of the country after the big malfunctions a few decades ago. Even if the politics in the north weren't totally twisted, if you valued your ovaries you'd stay out of there.

"Going to North Korea would actually be easier for me than South. I've still got a record out for my arrest there. As soon as I set foot in an airport I'll get shoved into a cop car faster than you can say psywave poker."

"You've got a warrant out for your arrest?" Leo said.

I trusted Leo, but before I'd spilled it all to Royce, I'd never shared those details with anyone other than Gavin. No way around it now. May as well make sure Leo was truly in the inner fold. He was a powerful ally to have around, and it could pay to know mutual secrets.

And I already knew some of his, just in case.

So we were solid.

I cleared my throat. "It's a long story, but yeah, I've got a warrant out for my arrest for gambling. From twenty years ago. It's illegal in Korea."

Leo laughed harder than I'd ever heard him laugh before. "Oh man, that's hilarious," he said, the katana bouncing up and down on his shoulder as he chuckled.

"It's something, that's for sure," I said.

"You sure they still care about that? You don't think after twenty years they'd let that go?" he said.

"Nope. Trust me, I've checked into it. That warrant is live and active," I said.

I looked Leo, debating how much of this conversation we should be having in front of him.

Royce must have followed my thinking because he said, "Everyone in the Undergrid is going to know what's up if we follow this plan. May as well let Leo in on it. We could use an extra pair of eyes, because this is going to get...complicated."

What the hell was he talking about? I glanced at Gavin to see if he had any clue. He shrugged—Royce hadn't filled him in either. Leo leaned forward, like a kid waiting to hear a particularly juicy piece of gossip.

Royce turned to Leo and said, "Just hang in there for a minute, and I'll fill you in on the background after I get them up to speed. We're going to need your help."

He flipped the katana back onto the counter where it landed with a little clang. Grease sizzled out on the grill behind him. "Patience is my middle name," he said.

"Thanks," Royce said and turned back to me. "While you were out joyriding I was busy doing research you should have done more than a decade ago."

I swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"That company you were talking about—the Chaebol—it's not gone."

"How the hell did you find that out?" I said, suddenly feeling like I wanted to vomit.

"I have friends in low places," he said, pointing down. "But given the short time it took for my guy to get back to me, it wasn't exactly a tough find, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't know what you mean. What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that you ignored this whole thing because you wanted to believe that it had all just gone away. You fucked up bad, Jin."

I looked to Gavin for some support, but he actually looked embarrassed and didn't say anything at all, avoiding my gaze.

"I don't think Gavin wanted to look into it either. You guys built comfortable lives out here, and it was easier to pretend like none of that ever happened. Now you get to deal with the consequences of that decision," Royce said.

"Okay, so sue me, I never wanted to poke around the ashes of an evil company that killed my friends and nearly killed me too. Last thing I needed was to get caught snooping around, drawing attention to myself. Being a lab rat again wasn't exactly high on my list of fun vacation activities, if you know what I mean. I'm just happy Gavin and I escaped with our lives."

Royce sighed. "I get it, but this is all information that would have been useful yesterday. I have no idea how much time you've got left, and even if you live, you're going to lose out on some big cash if you can't get your shit together in time. Money and death, two of L.A.'s favorite past times, and you've got both breathing down your neck. Meanwhile, you're off gallivanting around the whole damned county like it's Easter Sunday. Wise up lady, it's fucking doomsday."

"Alright alright, we got it. Shit is fucked. I hear you loud and clear. So why do we need to go to Korea, and more specifically, why do I need to go to Korea?"

Royce smiled, and it was full of zeal. Creepy zeal. Weird mad scientist zeal. "That's where the cure is, and we need to take you to it," he said.

A cure? It should have made me hopeful, happy perhaps, or even overjoyed, but the words just rang hollow in my ears. Fear. Real fear. The kind that sits cold in your stomach and seeps into your bones, paralyzing you.

Going back to Korea.

Making myself visible to the same people that nearly killed me.

Some unknown, experimental "cure."

The possibility of getting thrown in jail for the next twenty years.

No. None of that sounded good. Royce was right—I'd avoided even thinking about any of that for years. For a damned good reason.

But now it was unavoidable.

I hate it when that happens.

Royce looked back and forth between us. "Well? Do either of you have something to say? I just solved your goddamn problem. Can I get some reaction here? A thanks? Something? Guys?"

Gavin seemed just as frozen as I was—a rare state of being. Nothing phases him. But he knew what we'd come from, what we'd survived. Going back into that world was terrifying. I didn't think anything scared Gavin, but I guess I was wrong.

This entire time, I had been thinking the solution had to be somewhere here in L.A. It was the greatest city in the world, what couldn't you get here? Why should we have to go halfway across the world when the answer had to be somewhere nearby? L.A. had always provided for me, and I couldn't believe that now, when I needed it most, that it would let me down.

Royce waved his hand in front of our faces. "Earth to Korean casino moguls, you guys in there still? Was it something I said? Is this some cultural thing I don't know about—I do you a huge favor, save your life, and you're required to stare at me for a certain period of time to show your undying gratitude?"

Leo lifted his head. "Hey man, I think you spooked 'em or something. Looks like they seen a ghost. You must have hit a nerve or something."

I shook my head, tried to snap out of it. We were losing face here.

"Thank you. For the effort. I really do appreciate your time. It's just. The danger. Even if I wasn't wanted in Korea. Going back there. I just don't know." I spoke slowly, trying not to let my voice waver.

Royce adjusted his shoulders. "Okay, you're not thrilled about going back to Korea, but as long as we can cloak your identity from the police, we shouldn't have any problem. If you're off the grid, this Chaebol group won't have any way of knowing you're in the country. Maybe you're right anyway and they've forgotten all about you."

"I don't know, man, Jin's got people after her all the time. Why do you think I keep this thing around," Leo said, patting the sword. "Gotta be on guard all the time, just in case."

It was true. Gavin wasn't paranoid—we were big money and gangs seemed to think that kidnapping and ransoming me wasn't a bad way to try and extort some money. Of course, they didn't know that they'd have to face the wrath of Gavin.

"Any chance some of those attempted kidnappings have anything to do with the Chaebol?" Royce said.

I didn't think I could get any colder, but I did. It was warm, and unusually humid even for the summer, but I may as well have been standing on an iceberg.

Of course there was a chance. I'd been denying all along that there was any chance that the Chaebol had resurrected, but I had Asian gangs coming after me far more often than I'd like, and half the time we didn't know who they were.

Sure it could have been the Chaebol.

Sure they could have been trying to get at me this whole time.

I dry heaved once, thought I was going to lose my delicious quesadilla.

"Whoa," Royce said and came forward, putting his hands on my biceps. "Hey, relax, it's going to be okay."

I gave him a pained look. Yeah right, we both knew what a lie that was. The odds were not with us on this one.

I tried to speak, but dry heaved again, grabbing my stomach.

"Relax. We need to keep you stabilized until we can safely get to Korea," he said.

Just thinking about Korea and the Chaebol made me want to hurl, and my knees buckled. Gavin came to life and took my other elbow, holding me up.

"Why don't you sit down for a second?" Gavin said, then turned to Royce. "We need a minute to process this."

I let Gavin guide me back to the hood of the Lotus. It felt nice to take the weight off my hip. In all the action, I spaced on how much it was aching. I put my head down for a second, centering myself.

Emotions under control.

Thoughts under control.

Actions under control.

I knew the steps for success.

Pulling my head back up, I rested my forearms on my thighs, my legs dangling over the hood of my beloved Lotus.

"Okay," I said. "Pardon the delay. First. What exactly is in Korea anyway that we can't get here? If it's a drug, why can't you just have it shipped here? Cash problems aside, I've never found something that can't be couriered."

"First, I have to tell you what I found. Once you told me about the Chaebol, that gave me a place to start looking, and that sliver of mesh I took out of your back was the ultimate key. I was able to get a chemical signature off the bits that still had viable coating."

I remembered all the little chemical symbols floating around his head on the holonet when I'd snuck out. Guess he really was trying to do his homework.

"Since when are you a chemical engineer?" I said.

"Who the hell do you think I am? I'm a fucking genius, I'm the best there is at this shit. How many times do I have to tell you? What do you think I am, some back alley implant hack?"

"Sorry, but you are dressed like one, after all. Can you blame me for getting confused?" I said. Okay, that was in poor taste, but I couldn't resist. His outfit was truly disgusting at this point, and I'd already almost vomited more than once this evening.

"Goddamn it, Jin. I'm just going to walk around naked if you stop talking shit about my clothes," he said.

"Fine by me, I don't care," I said. Royce's 'roided out muscles did nothing for me. Maybe Leo would appreciate it—never could tell what kind of strange he was into. Gavin could take it or leave it.

Gavin let out a loud burst of air. "Just tell us what you found," he said.

I needed to cool it—Gavin was getting pissed off, and I suddenly felt bad. Worrying about me, dealing with all the paperwork behind the Augustine disaster, and trying to handle the normal day to day operations for all of our massive casino ventures—he was under a lot of pressure.

"Lips are zipped. Go on," I said.

"As I was saying, I isolated the original compound that was used to coat the mesh," Royce said.

Had to admit— that was damned impressive. I knew I'd picked Royce for a reason. I'm excellent at hiring and training employees.

"You know how to fix the mesh?" Gavin said, his voice filled with absolute wonder, not even sounding like himself.

"Yes. Well, no. Kind of. It's complicated," he said. "I need to do a little more digging, or rather, I need to have some other people do some digging. I have a lot of talents, but I'm not a geohacker."

"Out with it Royce. I'm having enough trouble processing this as it is," I said.

I glanced at Leo, and he was watching this all like it was a movie and all he needed was some popcorn. Couldn't blame him—he was only getting part of the story, and it probably sounded like an utter circus of ridiculousness. I'd be fascinated too, but it was making me uncomfortable. I wasn't used to airing my dirty laundry in public, but if we were going to try and sneak into Korea, Royce was right.

We'd need to go underground.

And Leo would be the best way to make sure we didn't get any extra stab wounds in the process.

"Oh so now you want to be efficient, I see how it is. Maybe you should think of that the next time you want to waste the whole night jerking off in Venice Beach or whatever you were doing," he said.

Gavin put a hand on my leg, and I got the hint: stop bugging Royce. He just made it so hard to stop poking at him.

"Next time I'll bring you back a souvenir or something, since I guess you can't actually drive yourself out there," I said.

Turns out that I'm a slow learner. Or Royce was just really good at bringing out that part of my personality. Seriously though, his car was freaky. I knew his money situation was weird, but why was he driving that ancient hunk of junk? If you're going to unload a few thousand dollars at an establishment, you want to know that you're spending your money at a reputable place that takes you and your business seriously. That means looking good. Always.

You drive nice cars.

You wear nice clothes.

You make yourself look like a professional.

And I was only talking about spending money in a dang slot machine. Royce was mucking around with my internal organs and jamming things into my spinal column. The least he could do was pretend like he had some class, am I right? How was I supposed to trust a guy that can't even drive on the freakin' freeway?

"Do you want to fix your body, or do you want to slowly become paralyzed and suffocate to death in a pool of your own filth?" Royce said.

"Well, when you say it that way, it's hard to choose," I said.

Leo tapped his sword again. "I'm still not a hundred percent clear on what's going on here, but whatever you're fighting about, let's keep it clean, yeah?" He pointed at the sky. "We're running out of dark here, and if you're wanting to go Undergrid tonight, we'll have an easier time at night. More people out and about. More options for...services. You get me?"

"Sorry, we're probably scaring off your business," I said.

"That's not what I'm worried about," he said and pulled a string to turn off his truck sign, signaling to the parlors across the street that he was done for the night. He was giving himself to us, which was important—he knew too much, and as much as I liked the guy, the whole thing still made me uncomfortable. I absolutely didn't like people knowing about my physical weaknesses, but here we were, stuck in this unfortunate situation where not just my dirty laundry, but my dirty organs were going to be aired to the entire Undergrid.

At least most Circuit Breakers had secrets.

And secrets had power.

Gavin was great at manipulating physical force.

I was good at manipulating psychological relationships.

I'm a master of the odds.

And I love a gamble.

Bet against me, and you're sure to lose.

"Okay Royce, enough with all this filibustering. Just tell me what the hell you're planning, or I'm going to just throw in the towel and head back to Jin Tower where I can eat chocolate and sleep on the softest satin sheets you've ever imagined," I said.

"I don't have to imagine, you gave me the same sheets," he said.

"Only the best for my favorite surgeon," I said sweetly.

"Not like I'm ever going to see that bedroom again at this rate."

"We get it, you're tired," I said. "I'm exhausted. Just get on with it already. What the hell did you find?"

"The coating. I found the fucking coating is what I've been trying to tell you for the last twenty minutes," he said.

I set my jaw, folded my arms. "Fantastic, Royce. I get that you don't understand how disturbing this is to me, but like I said before, why can't we just courier that right on down to Pasadena? Save us a boatload of trouble and money, everyone wins. I'll catch the prize for the international drone tournament, and we'll all dance around in piles of money and it will be a total win for everyone involved."

"There's a problem with your courier solution. A big problem," he said.

"What do you mean?" I said.

"The compound cannot be transported. The stuff inside of you is unique, and that's precisely why it's such an issue."

The look on his face—even in the darkness, the sweaty zeal was unmistakable.

"You selfish bastard, none of this has anything to do with me, does it? You're just curious. I'm just a science experiment to you, and I'm tired of being under your microscope, Royce."

"Fuck you, Jin. You're wrong, and you know it. I mean fine, I have a thing for figuring out puzzles, but let me tell you, this is one fucking annoying puzzle, and I'd be ready to walk away if the thought of watching you die didn't make me sick to my stomach," he said.

"He's right, I can vouch for him. I've seen what he's done for the people in the Undergrid. What he's done for my family. We can never repay him. That's the only reason I'll be able to get you down there tonight. It's because of him," Leo said.

Gavin stood up. "I don't get science, but I need to know. What is this compound, and why do you need it for Jin? Why can't we try something else?"

"It's not a stable compound. I took at look at its molecular structure—it needs very specific conditions to remain in a liquid state. Otherwise, it hardens into a useless block. It needs equipment to stay in its useful, liquid form. Expensive, proprietary equipment. I don't know why it was originally developed, but now it's being used to seal cars and mobile electronics. Anything exposed to the elements. Supposedly, it does a fantastic job of keeping possible contaminants from reaching the core material, so it's perfect for a protective coating," Royce said.

"Wait. I've got some kind of industrial paint jammed all up and down my spine?" I said.

Royce scratched his head. "Er, well essentially, yeah, that's what it is. I mean, it's a special compound, it's not just a bunch of useless paint. I'm not a chemist primarily, but even I thought it was beautiful. The possibilities for how you might use it are nearly endless, but it has to be stored in this very particular, inconvenient way."

"It can't be moved out of the factory," I whispered softly, but Royce heard me.

"Yes. That's why we have to bring you to it. You have to go to Korea. To that factory. We sneak in, and I do the surgery right there with the fresh compound."

"You want to shoot me up with some industrial plastic in the middle of a warehouse full of chemicals and machines in a foreign country where I'm wanted for a major felony?"

He hesitated, but then grinned. "Yes. And if I can pull it off, it will be absolutely brilliant."

What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Ten

I'd been to the Undergrid many times, but each trip seemed like I was visiting a totally different planet. Depending on where in the city you descended, you were in for a totally different experience. But no matter where you entered, it was bound to be a strange ride. So many bodies crammed into narrow tunnels and secret cubbies.

And the worst part—water on the floors, always. It leaked through the sewage system, seeped from all the broken pipes, creeped in from remains of the L.A. River. Damp. Smelly.

Dangerous.

I hated it there.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't actually mind the people in the Undergrid. I understood the Circuit Breakers. I also didn't like being tracked by the government, even though I had mixed feelings on it as a business owner.

The thing is, it was super convenient, especially for casino owners. We knew who came into our businesses, how often they visited, what they do while they were there. Especially good for the high rollers—we knew what kind of drinks they preferred, what their favorite foods were, what types of experiences they might like best. Made it super easy to profit.

But I got where the Circuit Breakers were coming from. If I had a choice, I would ban the technology, but so long as it was already the law, may as well capitalize on it. These guys down here clearly had other ideas—they'd rather deal with sketchy power problems, dank water flowing through their bedrooms, and constant darkness rather than have to deal with being monitored.

That part—that I didn't comprehend. I'd put up with almost everything if it meant being comfortable. Give me luxury or give me death.

As soon as we finished climbing down the rickety passageway, the stench of the Undergrid was overpowering. Stagnant water. Mold. Rusty metal. Chemical runoff.

Blood.

For some reason it always smelled like blood.

I gagged as the grimy, cold breeze blew through my hair.

Gavin got off the ladder first, and he lifted me the rest of the way down.

"Thanks," I said. I'm sure he noticed how much I was wincing trying to make my way down the tunnel.

Leo was already on the ground, and Royce followed behind us.

"Who are we going to see, exactly?" I said.

"Two of the best erasers that I've met," Royce said. "They'll get you totally cloaked and off the grid."

"This plan is insane," I said.

"Sounds like it's your best bet though," Leo said. I don't know about all the medical science parts, but I know we can pull off the cloaking bits. And for any of the surgical stuff, Royce is the best there is."

Surgical Parts.

Oh god.

That's right.

I touched my collarbones and swallowed.

There had to be a better way than just digging those out.

I'd just pretend like that wasn't going to be an issue until I was told otherwise. Better not to work myself up over nothing, and Royce was in such a bad mood he might say disturbing things just to mess with me.

Stay positive.

Leo had left his sword in a sheath for the climb down, but as soon as something stirred in the darkness, he drew it out in front of him, blade ready. I peered into the tunnel, but it was only lit by a few flickering fluorescent lights dangling from the cracked cement ceiling.

"This is a bad section," Leo said. "Stay behind me for now. Once we enter the main passage, it should be fine. I keep telling Gideon he needs to patrol this section, but he says he wants to leave it like this. Thinks it helps discourage tourists in the underground mall from making it all the way down to the Undergrid passageways."

And that was why I wouldn't go wandering around here without an escort. Leo was like the guide leading the boat across the River Styx. Get out of the boat alone, and you might never find your way back again.

"Who's Gideon?" I said.

"Caramel's wife," Leo said. "She's the governor of this section. I'm surprised you've never met her, actually."

Oops. Seemed like that was a major oversight on my part, from the way he said it.

"I try to stay out of the Undergrid," I said. "And you've never told me this is someone I needed to meet."

"I try to mind my own business. Busy bodies aren't appreciated on this end of town, you dig?" he said. "No matter. Caramel's friendly. Gideon can be a hard ass until he warms up to you, but he likes Royce."

"I'm a likeable guy," Royce said. "See, I got connections too."

I took a step forward and winced. Leo nodded at my legs.

"You going to be okay?" Leo said.

"I'll survive," I said, and Royce gave me a look that reminded me that my flippant statement wasn't necessarily true. "Do we really need to do this now though? None of us are in good shape."

Royce put his hands on his hips. "That depends. How much do you like breathing and being in control of your neural functions?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Got it. We do it now," I said. "By the way, thanks for taking the time, Leo. Can't exactly expect you to wait around for us to have a nap and a nice brunch before exploring the Undergrid."

"Anything you need. This town would fall apart without you. And that includes the Undergrid. I don't think you'll have any trouble with getting help from Caramel. People down here appreciate how you help shield them from the police."

Not like I did much in the way of active assistance, but I definitely didn't go out of my way to try and get anyone snagged by the authorities. By and large, we liked to try and take care of our own problems in Pasadena, whenever possible. I had no problem with the Undergrid people being below our city. Live and let live.

"You ready to move forward?" Leo asked, still concerned about the way I was limping.

"I can carry her if she has trouble walking," Gavin said. "She's not very heavy."

"I'm standing right here," I said.

Gavin shrugged. "Just being practical."

Leo adjusted his grip on his sword. "Alright. Follow me."

Water splashed on my pants as we slogged through the wet concrete floors, and I didn't dare look down to see what might be staining the fabric of my expensive suit. Better not to know. Seemed like the entire county just drained right into these pipes.

Something in the darkness hissed. And it didn't sound like an animal.

"Ah shit," Leo said. He dashed forward and spun, whipping his sword vertical as he dropped into a squat and plunged the blade into a shadowy figure.

The thing screamed, and Leo came down again with the blade. I heard the faint, wet sound of a sharp blade slicing through a hunk of thick meat as he pulled the sword out of the creature and it fell to the floor. Within seconds, it was over, nothing left but the dripping water softly splashing onto the concrete. Leo stood up and shook the blood off his sword, leaning over a bit to rinse it off in one of the puddles.

"What in the heck was that?" I said.

"Was that the one they've been looking for?" Royce said.

"Yeah. That one's been on the loose for a few weeks. Thought it might make it to the surface and cause some trouble. Glad we found it, actually," Leo said. He grabbed a radio off his belt and pushed a button. "Hey, got a pickup in tunnel 4, far end. It's that one revenant."

The radio squawked again and someone said, "Copy. Pickup within the hour."

Leo put the radio back on his belt and turned to me. "You've never seen one of those?"

I looked into the darkness, but all I could make out was a crumpled shape. Probably better that way. Leave the details to the imagination.

"I still can't really see it, and I'm pretty much okay with that," I said.

"Revenants. Circuit Breakers that go too far, tweak too many implants, try too many experimental things, use unlicensed materials," Leo said.

Royce bumped into me and I jumped. He put a hand on my shoulder to steady me. "Bad stuff in some of those implants. Lead. Radioactive material. Between that and the difficulty of living down in a tunnel all the time, some people go nuts.

"So you just kill them?" I said. "I'm no justice warrior, but that seems rather harsh, don't you think?"

Leo shrugged. "Maybe. But what else are you going to do? Send them up to a hospital? They're unfixable, and they're basically dead anyway. This is the most humane thing we can do for them."

I shivered. Was that my fate? Paralyzed or crazy? Maybe I'd have the courtesy of Royce euthanizing me like a dog, which was marginally better than being skewered by Leo's katana, but still. That was an upsetting thought.

Gavin touched my hand. "Just keep moving forward. We're going to figure this thing out."

Nice that someone was thinking about how I might be feeling. I could always count on Gavin. Royce and Leo were focused on achieving our objectives, which was great, but this whole deal was getting more disturbing by the minute.

"Any more of those things running around down here?" I said.

"Not that I know of. None that have been identified for removal, at least. Usually quadrant governors monitor people that are looking risky. Sometimes a person just snaps, but it's usually a slower process. A long decline into madness and brain death," Leo said.

"Isn't there someone that regulates that stuff? Makes sure no one implants themselves with something dangerous?" I said.

Leo shook his head. "That's not how things are run down here. If you want to be managed, you can go to the surface. Down here, you have freedom, but you have to live with the consequences of your choices."

Suddenly, freedom seemed like it wasn't such a hot idea. Great in theory, but the whole lead poisoning and eventual death by sword bit didn't sound quite so appealing.

"Let's keep moving," Leo said. "Try not to think about it too much—it'll only make you nervous. Royce wouldn't let anything like that happen to you."

I looked at Royce, who gave me a big, weird grin. Also not comforting. I was stuck down in a dank tunnel with a Samurai taco truck owner and a sadistic black market surgeon, battling against neurally defunct implant zombies. I needed to think harder about my life choices.

We trekked through that tunnel for what seemed like forever, and I tried not to jump every time I heard a rat or some other creature rustling around in all the garbage and runoff that littered every inch of the floor.

"Almost there," Leo said. "Once it forks, we'll head to the executive tunnel, and from there, it won't be much farther. They're expecting us, so we shouldn't have to wait long."

I was so freaked out about the weird implant revenants that I forgot to worry the reason we were down here in the first place. I touched my collarbones again, hoping they had a deactivation device or something of that nature.

Digging more things out of my marrow didn't sound like a fun way to spend the evening.

"Is it always so quiet around here?" I said. I remembered seeing more unusual characters hanging around when I'd come down to the Undergrid before.

Leo shook his head. "Gideon and Caramel probably told people to clear out of here, since you're coming. Caramel likes to make things comfortable for guests...in her own way."

In her own way? Did I want to know what the heck that meant? Well, how dangerous could someone named Caramel be anyway? Nothing to worry about, right?

As we neared the end of the main tunnel, things cleared out. The lights weren't hanging from the ceiling, broken and flickering, the water on the floor started drying up, and there was less trash laying around. Nice. I appreciated cleanliness. I wouldn't tolerate disorder in my casinos.

"This way," Leo said, and we veered to the left, the tunnel widening and brightening further. The concrete itself was lighter, less stained, better maintained.

The tunnel dead-ended into a big, heavy, circular door that looked like it was made from an old bank vault. Leo walked right up to it and knocked. A small panel opened at eye-height and someone peered out through the gap.

"Leo—are you here with our guests?" a woman said over an intercom. Her high-pitched voice echoed through the tunnels, and I closed an eye, wincing, hoping the effect was just from a bad speaker system.

"Yes indeed. May we come in?" he said.

"Are there any more revenants out there? I heard you killed that one we've been looking for," she said.

"None that I've seen," he said. I saw his hand clench around the sword hilt instinctively.

Gavin's hands went in his pockets. As flashy as he dressed, Gavin liked to be more stealthy with his weapons than Leo. Knives. Tiny ones. Gavin always had them around, and they did quick, devastating damage. With gun control being so strict and effective in the county, it was an invaluable skill.

"Okay, I'll tell Gideon you're here. Just a minute, please," she said. The eye slit slid shut again.

I shook my head, trying to clear the ringing from my ears. "Might want to tell her to turn that intercom system down or tune it better or something," I said.

Leo put a finger to his lips and pointed around in a circle.

Oh. The place was wired for sound and probably video too. How stupid of me. Ironic, too, I thought. They were down here to avoid being monitored by the government, and yet they were still monitoring each other. I mean, it was logical considering how dangerous some of these sections were, but still. Weren't they going to extraordinary lengths for privacy? Not my battle to fight, I guess. All I wanted to do was get back to Jin Tower, where everything looked great, smelled great, tasted great, and made total sense.

A few minutes later, she came back on and said, "Come on in!"

The door shuddered open slowly, the heavy metal grinding on the concrete. Leo trudged forward, but my feet were rooted to the floor, and Royce ran into me.

He came around my side. "You okay?" he said, clearly worried about another mesh failure.

I blinked, wiggled my shoulders. "Yeah. I'm great. And stuff. Fine. Great."

He whirled me around so that I was facing him, and he grabbed my forearms, looking in my eyes. "Cognitive dysfunction would be a new symptom for you," he said.

I shook him off and rolled my eyes. "My brain is fine. Sort of. That's not the problem. I'm just." I couldn't finish that thought and hoped he would fill in the blanks for himself without saying it out loud.

He looked confused and worried, then it seemed to register with him, and I had the good sense to feel embarrassed.

"Oh," he said, like he didn't think real fear was an emotion I was capable of.

Truthfully, I didn't have it on my list of typical emotions either. Something about today was getting to me, and I didn't like it one bit.

"I'll be okay," I said. "I just need a second."

"Um, sure, yeah. But. We don't want to keep them waiting. They're busy. Lots to manage down here," he said.

Now I knew how to make him uncomfortable, so that was something.

"Poke your head in there and just tell me everything looks okay. Lie to me, if you have to," I said.

He looked at me for a second, and then nodded. "Okay." He leaned around the big door, looking back and forth a few times before leaning back again.

"Tell me it's not some torture studio. I can't deal with any more of that," I said.

"It looks totally pleasant, I promise," he said.

Right. He had to be lying. Pleasant? Down here? I didn't think so. But I appreciated the fibbing.

"Tell me nothing bad is going to happen in there."

He looked me in the eye and said, "In there? No. It will be fine."

The way he said it, there was a definite subtext. It would be fine here, but what about elsewhere?

That made me even more nervous, but enough was enough. I couldn't stand there trembling in the doorway like an absolute coward. Cowards do not run major corporations, and I'm not a person to run away in the face of danger. I'd let the Chaebol thing rattle me, but I had to deal with it, get past it, even if it meant more pain.

Gavin backed out into the hallway again. "Jin? Everything alright? You need help?" He held out his hand, and I took it.

"I'm okay. Just thinking," I said.

He put his arm around my shoulders. "I won't let anything harm you. You know that."

He had a point. I knew Gavin would die before he let someone purposely hurt me. I also knew that he'd do anything to make sure that I lived, even if that included some extremely uncomfortable experiences, but I had to believe that it would all be worth it in the end.

"Let's go," I said.

Royce followed behind, and we entered the vault.

Chapter Eleven

I've been wrong before, and this was another one of those times. The inside of the vault looked nothing like I was expecting.

At all.

We could have been inside a nice department store somewhere in Asia. The room was long and narrow and all up and down the corridor, clothes hung on organized racks. At a glance, I could tell the fabric was expensive, but the clothes were all similar: Frilly. Cute. Lolita. Tons of dresses and bows and ruffles everywhere.

Not my style. Not even close. I try to be open-minded, but this kind of fashion was totally unprofessional. I couldn't stand all that girly stuff.

A woman bounded up to me, shaking my right hand with both of hers. "Oh hi! I'm so glad to meet you finally."

She pumped my hand, shaking it vigorously while I stood frozen, staring at her like a total moron.

The woman peered around me to address the guys. "Is she okay? She's kind of funny, don't you think?" She waved her hand in my face. "Hi hi. I'm Caramel. You look sick or something. Everything okay in there?" She tapped my forehead and that snapped me out of it. I stepped back, out of her reach.

Leo shuffled his feet and put his hand on his sword, like he was embarrassed to see me acting this way. "She's had a long day. Give her a minute. I think you'll like her."

"Oh yes, I'm sure that I'll like her. She looks like so much fun. So many projects I can do with her. This is great!" She wiggled her butt like Lucky did when he was really excited, and I thought I was hallucinating. Who the hell was this person?

"I'll be outside, watching the hallway if you need me," Leo said and went back into the tunnels. Couldn't blame him. After a minute I was already over-stimulated from this chick, and I lived in a damned casino. I'm used to a lot of noise.

Okay, pull it together, get a sense of the scene, find my bearings, that's what I needed to do.

First, I took stock of Caramel, who turned out to be the living embodiment of her little store, or whatever this was. She wore a bright orange dress that was drowning in bows and ruffles. The dress came up to her upper thigh, and if she bent over, I was sure I'd get a nice show of whatever she was (or wasn't) wearing underneath. Her hair and her eyebrows were the same color as her dress, and it was good quality—root shocked, permanently locked to that shade. It certainly made a statement, but then I noticed the rest of her.

Her hair was curled and pulled into a loose ponytail halfway down her back, making the big ringlets frame her face. To complete her intensely cute outfit, she had a series of luminescent implants embedded in her skin. All up and down her arms, big lights flashed in an alternating series of colors and patterns—hearts and stars in red, blue, purple, green—they danced around her body. Across her upper chest, a smaller line of lights blinked—just little hearts. The last I could see was a green star, glowing by the corner of her right eye, on the upper part of her cheek.

Wow.

Picking a lipstick color in the morning felt like a commitment to me. I'd never been a big fan of tattoos or anything of that nature, and the biggest change I'd ever made to my appearance was my hair color, which wasn't really a big deal. One root shocking could last up to five years if you had a good technician, but it was easily and (mostly) painlessly reversed if you changed your mind.

Alright. This wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. I could deal with this. I needed to establish a relationship with this person. Even if I wasn't dealing with this unfortunate situation, if she was the leader of this section of the Undergrid, I should have made nice with her a long time ago already.

Like flicking a switch, I went back to being my normal self. Shoulders back, legs straight, smile on my face. "Sorry about that. I'm just a little tired is all. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. I'm Hyojin Song. You can call me Jin," I said.

She squealed. "Ooooh! Jin, that's such a cute name, I just love it. I can't wait to play with you."

I kept the smile plastered on my face, but inside, I was dying. Was this person real? Maybe Royce was right, and this was all some big brain aneurysm. Caramel's voice certainly sounded like what I'd imagine a massive brain hemorrhage would feel like.

Gavin and Royce had conveniently backed away behind me, letting me stand there in the lead. How nice of them.

"You know Royce already, I think?" I said.

Caramel smiled, and as the green star moved closer to her eye, I noticed that her pupils were actually shaped like hearts. That had to be cosmetic, but there was a faint glowing, green outline around her pupils as well, in a different shade from the star. Maybe night vision implants? Would make sense down here where it was partially dark most of the time.

"I do. Hi Royce! You should come visit us more. We miss you," she said.

I stared at Royce, super curious to watch his reaction. He smiled at her and came forward to give her a hug. He didn't look annoyed at all.

What the hell?

Caramel kissed Royce's cheek and she smiled too big, her front teeth huge and white.

"Nice to see you again. Thanks for agreeing to help us on such short notice," he said and stepped back next to me.

Caramel bounced in place, hands behind her back. Her neon yellow tennis shoes flashed as she went up and down on her tiptoes.

This whole scene was tripping me out.

I have a good eye for clocking ages, especially with women, even if there's been some kind of cosmetic surgery going on. There are tons of subtle signs. You just have to know where to look. Those tiny folds around the mouth and eyes, sure, but there are other spots. The hands, down under the last finger joints. The divot right between the collarbones. The soft skin along the hairline, especially near the ears. Folds around the knees. Toenails, if you can see them. All these spots are good age markers, places even the most diligent of surgeons neglect.

Caramel was older than me.

"Oh yes, I'm so glad that you thought of me. This is going to be a lot of work, but we can handle it. Gideon's running a little late, but he should be here any minute. We can get started now if you want. I just restocked this room, and I can't wait to use some of my new tools," she said.

Tools? Tools? What exactly was involved in getting yourself totally off the grid? The idea of trying to sneak back into Korea had never seriously crossed my mind before. Now I felt stupid for never investigating this stuff before. Sure, I missed Korea sometimes, but I was happy here in L.A., and K-Town had the biggest population of Koreans outside of the actual peninsula. I'd been born there, in K-Town anyway, and it had always felt like my real home. Not getting to go back to Korea was unfortunate, but given how amazing my normal life was, that seemed like a very small price to pay.

Guess I was wrong.

And it was my life at stake here, so I had to make nice and resist the urge to run right out the front door. Facing Leonardo's katana was starting to look appealing in comparison to getting poked at with whatever Caramel had in her tool box.

Hopefully nothing sharp.

"I must thank you for seeing us on such a short notice. Your help will be most appreciated," I said. There. Look how courteous I was. I totally had this. I'd made hundreds of huge, international business deals, gone toe to toe with gangsters from dozens of countries without blinking an eye. How bad could this be?

Caramel dashed forward, the ruffles on her orange dress flipping up to show the white petticoat underneath. My eyes bulged, but I stood my ground.

And I regretted standing my ground.

Caramel seized me around the waist, squeezing me extra tight.

I'm not a fighter, but all my natural instincts said to smack her across the face and run away. What the heck was she doing?

"You're just so adorable and pudgy, I could eat you up. We never get surface girls down here!"

Adorable.

Pudgy.

What?!

No no. We don't yell at employees or service providers. We listen to their comments and make rational replies, based on the mutual interests of all stakeholders.

That didn't mean I didn't feel like slapping her across her neon-studded little face.

Rational responses. That's what we needed.

I hugged her back with what felt like an appropriate amount of courtesy and tried to politely extricate myself.

"Um, well thank you. You're also cute. However, you are definitely not pudgy. What were you saying about me?" I said. Alright. That wasn't overtly rude. That should fly.

Caramel giggled. "I love cute things. I just mean it's going to be hard to find anything down here that will fit you—you're so chubby and round."

Chubby. Round?! What the hell was she talking about? Was she purposely trying to piss me off?

I looked her up and down, blinking as the lights embedded all across her body shimmered and changed. She just stood there, smiling cheerfully like some pragmatically challenged cyborg.

No. She wasn't trying to piss me off. She was just insane.

"Right. Hopefully that doesn't cause too many problems? I'm a size 2. Petite." I couldn't believe I just said that. What I really wanted to say was smack.

"Oh yeah, that's big. Surface girls get so fluffy. Don't worry, we'll figure it out," she said, totally unconcerned. Did she even know what was going on with me?

Like a living doll, she slowly rotated her head until she was staring at Gavin, and then waved enthusiastically, as though she'd just noticed him standing there.

Nope, Gavin was not into it. He had his talents, but public relations was not one of them. He gave one curt wave, but didn't move. I saw how it was. He would rescue me from the bloodiest of knife fights, but he wouldn't help save me from this dollhouse terror.

"Your friend is cute. Is he your boyfriend?" Caramel said.

"No, he's not," I said.

She looked at Royce. "Is he your boyfriend?" she said incredulously, as though I couldn't possibly survive without a man in my life.

"I don't have a boyfriend," I said.

She frowned. "You must be so lonely."

"I have a dog. Trust me, that's way less work than a boyfriend." I was happy that Lucky was back up in Jin tower—we had the Lotus drive him home before we came down here. If anything happened to him, I'd be devastated, and the Undergrid was no place for a dog.

Gavin laughed. "Dogs are definitely less work than men."

"You poor thing!" She pulled me into a crushing embrace again, and my whole body stiffened, but she didn't seem to notice.

Or just didn't care. Unbelievable. I do not like strangers touching me.

"We'll get you fixed," she said.

Without letting me go, she pushed me backwards, and my sore hip caught beneath me. What the hell was she doing? With my feet tangled up beneath me, I couldn't keep my balance—she was stronger than she looked. Maybe something with implants? Before I realized it, I was sitting in a chair in the corner.

"Have a seat—welcome to the cyber salon."

I was sitting in what looked like a beauty salon chair, but the things on the walls and counters were not exactly your typical salon items. Circuit boards, soldering irons, a pot filled with some bubbling liquid, screwdrivers, needles, a few scalpels—those things were mixed in with palettes of makeup and wigs and scissors.

Gulp.

Royce and Gavin just stood there, and I mouthed "save me" to them, but neither of them moved. Some help they were.

"Just relax," Royce said. "Caramel is a professional."

Professionally nuts is what she was, but I somehow managed to keep that thought from making its way out my mouth. When sitting in the underground den of a potentially psychotic Lolita doll, it's best not to piss them off. No easy escape route. I was starting to miss the Yakuza kidnappings.

Loud footsteps clanged in the hallway and the door slid open wider. "Are the surface people here?" a man said as he came through the entrance.

The guy walking in the room was absolutely huge. Like, his head nearly scraped against the ceiling. Just looking at him standing next to all the petite dresses made it look as though we were standing in some miniature Wonderland.

Caramel jogged over to him, nearly bowling over the big guy with one of her enthusiastic hugs. No way that was natural— she had to be using implants to have that kind of strength.

"Hi honey! What took you so long?" she said. She stood up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, her LED implants casting rainbow shadows across his face.

The guy had muscles bigger than Royce, and his wavy brown hair came down to the base of his neck, but there was absolutely nothing feminine about him.

"I was making sure they cleaned up the revenant that Leo scrapped. Glad we finally caught that one. He bit some newbies over in Sector 8 last week," he said.

Caramel stood back and pointed at the man. "This is Gideon. He lives here with me. He's really smart."

I tried to put a smile on my face and started to stand, but he held up a hand.

"No need to get up. We need to get started soon. This is an all night job, and the night's already half over. Normally we don't do work on such short notice," he said.

"I understand—I wasn't exactly expecting to need your services, but I'm grateful for you accommodating us without any warning."

"You're an important person in this part of the grid, so we'll help you. But we need to work fast. Royce said there's a time limit we're working with here," Gideon said.

Now I felt like an ass again for not introducing myself to people down here before. They probably thought I was some kind of elitist jerk. Then again, spending more time with Caramel did not sound appealing. I imagined having a weekly tea party or something with Caramel and shivered. No thanks.

"Big time limit," Royce said. "Worst implant situation I've ever worked with. Stubborn client too."

I glared at him. "Thanks for the pep talk."

Gideon put his hands on his hips. "Looks like we got our work cut out for us."

He was wearing pretty much the exact opposite of what Caramel had on—dirty jeans, filthy ripped tank top, like he'd been out working on cars all day or something. His pupils were normal shaped, but they had that same fuzzy green outline. Had to be night vision implants. Subtle, no glowing LEDs like Caramel, but I knew he had other big implants. Here and there, I noticed unusual bulges beneath his skin, metal rivets poking out behind his ear, around his neck, on his hands. He was probably riddled with technology.

"How's that new rig working out for you?" Royce said.

Gideon rubbed his neck, fiddling with a round metal washer poking through the skin. "It's much better—glad you talked me out of keeping that other model in there. Worth the upgrade. Sad you won't be doing that stuff anymore. Every time I go to one of these other hacks, I regret it. You have a real knack for hardware."

Royce actually looked embarrassed. "Yeah, well, sorry about that. I'll still work with maintenance and emergencies, I just won't be doing any new installs. Not for a while anyway. You can still count on me to help anyone with implant sickness."

What was all that was about? What made Royce get out of the game? From the looks of his car, he could still use the money. Weird.

Gideon closed the door behind him, easily shutting the heavy vault like it was made out of Styrofoam. Squinting, I finally saw it—little bumps under the skin on his arms, and Caramel had them too. Definitely some kind of muscle augments. I hoped for their sake it wasn't a freaking experimental mesh. Turns out that can go sideways, real quick.

"Let me get you guys some chairs. This might take awhile, depending on what we're dealing with here," Gideon said to Royce and Gavin who were still standing there awkwardly.

Caramel and Gideon slid over a few big chairs for them to sit in, moving the leather armchairs out of the corners like they weighed nothing.

Caramel bounced out for a second and came back carrying two china cups filled with a steaming liquid. Not sure how she managed not to spill anything.

"Here, have some tea. It gets cold down here," she said.

Tea parties. I freaking knew it.

Royce and Gavin took the delicate white cups and politely sipped at them.

Gideon and Caramel both advanced on me, and I gripped the arms of my chair involuntarily. I'm not easily intimidated, but this whole situation had me majorly spooked. I just wanted to get back to the surface and take a nap in my own bed and forget about all this implant stuff. Maybe play a round of psywave poker, eat some dessert, take a nap with Lucky. The Lolita cavern of doom was not doing it for me.

"Have you scanned her yet?" Gideon said.

Caramel shook her head. "No no, your scanner works better than mine. I don't want to start building anything until you give me the readouts. It's going to be hard to make her fit into any of the outfits down here, and we don't have time to make anything custom. We have our work cut out for us, honey!"

I'm not sure what my face looked like, but I could tell you this much—my smile was not genuine. It got more and more pained by the second, and I wouldn't have been surprised if it had melted into a full scowl. I don't think anyone had ever called me fat before.

Gideon pulled up a stool and adjusted it down until his face was level with mine. That meant his long legs were pushed up almost to his armpits. The guy was seriously tall, his shoulders broader than Royce's. He smelled industrial—like sweat and grease from a long day of working in a factory or a garage. His hands were so big, it looked like he could crush my entire skull with just one fist.

"Do you have any current implants?" he said.

"Like standard or nonstandard ones?" I said, trying to look confident and comfortable. Not sure I succeeded on that one.

"Anything. What are you packing?"

"Did Royce tell you about my...problem?" I said.

He shook his head. "Not specifically. Just that you need to get to another country, and there's a warrant out for your arrest there."

Oh great, so they thought I was some kind of an outlaw too. Thanks Royce.

"I'm not a criminal," I said.

"It's not my business," Gideon said. "We don't care about surface laws down here."

"Gambling is illegal in Korea. I got caught when I was a teenager. I'm not a bad person," I said, cringing at my own defensiveness. I try to stay on the offensive whenever possible.

Gideon smirked. "How funny. Caramel always tells me stories about Korea. Got some strange laws that I'll never understand. Their monitoring programs are even worse than they are in the United States. If that's where you're going, we're going to need to do an even more thorough job."

I stared at Caramel. All the hair color and eye implants and LED lights distracted me, but now that I looked at her, she was definitely one of us. Except her English had no accent. Korean-American?

She was facing away from me, arranging some of the makeup on her counter. In Korean, I said to her, "Where were you born?"

Without missing a beat, in perfect Korean, she said to me, "I was born in Seoul. I miss it, but I like it down here with Gideon. The Undergrid here is much nicer."

Well, damn. Surprising. "You have no accent," I said. "In either language. Very impressive."

I'd been told that my Korean and my English both sound just a bit off—consequence of growing up bicultural. I didn't really care, but it annoyed me when someone pointed it out, like it was something I should fix.

Caramel turned around for a second, a pot of eyeshadow or some other jewel-toned cosmetic in her hand. She touched her throat. "I learned English very young, but I have also voice implant. Isn't it cute to have perfect speech in any language?"

I didn't even know that was a thing. Learned something new every day. I wondered if she had one of those translation units too, the ones Royce mentioned, but I'd guess not. He didn't seem keen on installing them.

I caught Royce eyeing us, and I switched back to English, remembering how he didn't like it when we were speaking in another language, since he wouldn't use any translation software. Truly, they didn't work well anyway. Maybe Caramel's accent was just a bit off and the voice implant corrected that small part that wasn't spot on.

Why didn't she have it correct the horrible pitch of her voice while she was at it? I already knew the answer: because she liked it that way.

"So then you both know what kind of a problem I've got here. Korea's justice system is nothing to play with," I said in English.

Gideon nodded. "Hardcore. But we're hardcore. Between us and Royce, you're not going to have a problem. You'll be a ghost."

Right. A ghost is what I was trying not to become.

"I'll put my trust in you. So, um, what exactly are you going to do?" I said. Maybe I'd be less nervous if I knew what they were (or more accurately, what they weren't going to do) to make me digitally invisible.

"First, we scan. Then, we make a plan. If you're not full of implants, it should be fairly simple to put together a cloaking package. Royce will take care of anything that needs to be dug out surgically. We'll take care of everything else—prosthetics, clothes, and so forth. As long as you don't have any complicated issues, we should be able to customize everything on site," Gideon said.

I swallowed. That's what I was afraid of. I nodded and tried not to let my eyes give away the terror I had crawling up and down my spine like a centipede.

"Okay. So now what?" I said.

Gideon held up his arm and squeezed his wrist. A panel on his forearm lit up. "Hold still," he said. "This won't hurt."

I'd heard that line before, but fortunately he was telling the truth. He waved the panel over my neck and chest, and it beeped twice.

"Standard collarbone marrow tags," he said and swept his arm lower. The panel beeped again. "Looks like a biometric scanner in the chest cavity."

"I just put that in yesterday," Royce said.

Gideon tapped his forearm a few time, gazing at the display. "Good quality implant. Expensive."

Well, that was good. I like quality, inside and out. I already had one massively underperforming implant to deal with—didn't need another.

Royce scoffed. "I'll say. The princess here would throw a fit if I put in anything that wasn't made out of diamonds."

"Hey, I didn't ask you to do that" I said.

"Your old one was total crap. Had to be twenty years old," he said.

"I don't know, I don't fiddle with implants normally. The Chaebol put that in there originally, not me," I said.

Royce threw up his hands. "Even more of a reason to ditch it. For all you know, they could have been hacked into that thing this whole time."

Yikes. I'd never thought about that.

Gideon cut him off. "I don't know about what was in there before, but this is no problem. We'll just make sure to put it on maximum stealth settings. I'll leave it set up to one device, and that will be the only key, in case you want to keep using it to monitor her vitals. Just don't lose it, or you'll have to replace the whole sensor rig. It can't be reset after you lose the key device."

"Sounds good," Royce said.

"Don't I get a say in this?" I said.

"Nope," Gideon and Royce said in unison.

"Great," I said.

"Not if you want to get into Korea without getting snagged by the police. Trust me," Gideon said. "Raise out your arms to the side."

I sighed and held my arms up. He ran the panel all along my shoulders and down to my fingertips, then systematically separated my fingers, scanning slowly all the way to each fingernail, before spending time hovering over my palms. Common spot for implants.

"Arms and fingers are clean," he said.

I laughed. "Actually they're not."

"She's right," Royce said. "There's an electromagnetic microscopic neural mesh running through her body. It's mostly concentrated in her brain and spinal column, but there are some peripheral spindles in her limbs. There's a lot in her fingers, actually."

Gideon turned to stare at him. "You kidding? I'm literally getting nothing here, and this thing gets everything." He waggled the panel in his arm. "It's never failed. You sure about this?"

Royce nodded. "I only found it because she told me it was there. Took a lot of tricks to make it pop on imaging, but it's there. That's what's causing all her problems—I removed a piece of it the other day. It's real. And it's nasty. Beautiful too. Show them what you can do, Jin."

"Oooh you can do tricks? I thought you were a total straight, but you're a Circuit Breaker like us!" Caramel said, her attention suddenly torn from whatever she was doing with the makeup.

"I'm not a circus animal," I said.

"Don't be an ass, Jin. Just do it," Royce said.

"Oh yes yes yes show us please!" Caramel said, wiggling again as she held onto another tub of pigment.

May as well enjoy the speed while it was still working. If we weren't able to fix this, just moving was going to be a blessing.

"Hold out your hand," I said to Caramel.

She was a few feet away from me, not within my reach, but that wasn't an issue. She held out her palm with the makeup resting on top of it.

I held up an index finger and swiveled it from side to side. "Watch me," I said, and before anyone could respond, I was up, out of my chair, sneaking past Gideon, grabbing the container from Carmel, and was back in my seat before any of them even realized I'd moved.

"Holy shit," Gideon said. "That's amazing. She's faster than any of the off-label juicers that are out there now."

I couldn't help but smile. It was amazing, I had to admit. Fun, too, when I actually got to show off without being afraid of people finding out my secret. Too bad it was also killing me in the process.

I tossed the container back at Caramel. "Pretty good, right?" I said.

"You're so cool!" Caramel said and turned to Gideon. "Can I have one too?"

"No," Royce and I said together.

"It's killing her," Royce said. "That's why we need to go to Korea. I can't remove the stuff, so we need to neutralize it."

"Aw, that's no fun," Caramel said.

"You're telling me," I said, trying not to think about what it was going to feel like having some industrial plastic jammed all into my nerves.

"That is some shit," Gideon said. "Who invented it? I've never seen a basically untraceable implant like that."

Royce shrugged. "Some big evil company, naturally."

"Well, it's not going to be a problem for cloaking. No one will ever find that without dissecting her first," Gideon said.

I rubbed my low back. "Yeah, that's how Royce did it—dissecting my spine. Still stings," I said.

"Hey, at least I didn't nick any nerves in the process, and I figured out how to solve your problem. You're welcome," Royce said.

"Incredible," Gideon said. "Okay, let me finish scanning her and see if anything else pops up."

He ran that same wrist panel over the rest of my body, stopping in a few spots that tended to be favorite spots for implants. I thought he was done when he frowned as he picked up my left foot and scanned it. Nothing beeped, but he kept making that face.

"What is it?" I said.

Royce perked up too. "You're not picking up mesh down there, are you? There's a lot in her feet, but the coating looked more intact than other places. That definitely shouldn't show up on anything."

Gideon shook his head. "No, it's not that. Take off your shoes. Both of them."

I squinted at him, but did what he asked, taking off my shoes and wiggling my toes. My feet were instantly cold.

"You don't ever remember getting anything else done to your feet?" he said.

I shook my head. "Other than the mesh implantation, no. That's it. I've never had anything surgical done to my feet. If you look very close, you might be able to see some scars from the mesh, but that's it."

Gideon frowned and flexed his fingers. "Hold still," he said and started feeling around my feet slowly, pressing with his fingertips. It felt weird, and then I realized his fingertips were hard.

Magnets. He had magnets in his fingers. Should have guessed. That's an old school mod. He'd been at this game for a long time.

"I need to press really hard for a second. Sorry."

I cocked my head. What the heck? "Okay," I said. What choice did I have? If there was something else weird in my body, I wanted to now.

I inhaled sharply when his hard fingers dug into my anklebone, pinching like he was trying to isolate something deep between his fingertips.

He let go. "There's definitely something in there, but I'm having a hard time picking it up. Whatever it is, it's old, and it's buried."

"Excuse me? You're saying there's something in my ankles?" I looked at Royce. "Did you put something else inside me while I was unconscious?"

"Didn't you just hear him? He said that it's old. You'd have open wounds on your ankles if I installed something there, you dimwit."

Gideon got up for a second and retrieved a stainless steel stand that looked like something out of Royce's clinic. I looked around at the not so sterile environment.

"Um, you're not planning on trying to cut it out of me, are you?" I said.

"Oh no, not something weird like this. I just need to figure out what it is, digitally. Heating it up will help my scanner get a better signature on it—this may be a little uncomfortable, but it should only take a minute."

Great. "Okay, I guess."

I let Gideon put my bare foot up on the stand. He rubbed his palm, and a glowing infrared circle appeared in the center. He slapped it over my ankle, and instant, deep heat penetrated my foot. I tried not to squirm, but it burned in a really strange way. With his other hand, he used those magnetic fingertips to pinch something again, then stopped applying heat long enough to swipe his forearm scanner over the area.

I let out a big lungful of air when released my foot. His eyes were big, excited. That couldn't be good.

"Well, I'll be damned. You've got two extra marrow tags in your angle bones. That's one crazy spot to have a tag implanted. That had to hurt like hell. You don't remember that?" Gideon said.

More mystery items in my body? That's not good. Suddenly, I was extremely mad about all the unauthorized crap people had been doing to my body. I'd had something stuck in me for decades and never had any idea.

"I suppose they could have done it when they implanted the mesh. And yes, that was excruciating, worse than anything you can imagine. Most people didn't even survive the initial surgeries," I said, trying not to get nauseous just thinking about it.

"Damn. I might have picked those up if you hadn't ruined my imaging study the other day," Royce said.

"Those will have to come out," Gideon said. "They might not come up on a standard scan, but like we just found out, they're definitely detectable. And if they're keyed to anything specific, they could track you once you're in range. They'd know as soon as you set foot in the country."

"Oh, shit. Four different marrow excavation procedures at the same time isn't a good idea," Royce said.

"What?" I said. Felt like I was suddenly sitting on an iceberg. My fingers dug into my palms while I literally held my breath.

Royce cleared his throat. "Well, your standard collarbone tags need to be removed anyway—no way you'll even get past regular monitoring in stores and hotels with those in there."

"You're going to saw into my collarbones and suck the tags out of my marrow?" I said.

Everyone got a set of marrow tags implanted when they were born, one in each collarbone. Most people don't lose both collarbones in their lifetime, so it was a good spot for a standard monitoring and tracking device.

And they weren't ever meant to be removed.

"Temporarily, since you'll have to put them back once you return to Los Angeles. You'll get busted wandering around without your tags. That is, unless you'd like to permanently move to the Undergrid," Royce said.

Caramel came forward and gave me another hug. I was so devastated that it was actually comforting, in an odd way this time. That's how bad it was.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, really is painful. All of us down here remember what it was like to pull those tags out. But you'll be okay! Royce has done that surgery hundreds of times for us. He's the best," she said.

"So I've heard," I said. "The best at torture, if you ask me."

"Do you want my help with this, or not?" Royce said.

I looked at Gideon and Caramel. "There isn't some other way to, I don't know, hide or cloak these tracking tags without having to saw them out of my bones?"

They all shook their heads.

"I'm afraid not," Gideon said. "That's one thing we can't do anything about. Most people only have the collarbone tags to worry about. You've got that, and those things in your ankles. No way around it. They need to be surgically removed, or you're toast."

I wanted to cry. But Hyojin Song doesn't cry in front of strangers. Or anyone, for that matter. I only cried in front of my dog.

"You'll be totally knocked out when I do it, though, and I'll give you really good drugs. Really good. We're going off the grid anyway, so you can have the stuff I'm not allowed to use legally. And I'll jam the incision sites with a bunch of catalyst stem cells, so they should heal up quickly. The first day out will be rough, I won't lie, but I'll try to keep you sedated through most of that," Royce said. "You'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say," I said. I probably looked like a living storm cloud—wouldn't be surprised if little lightening bolts were coming off my head.

Gideon put my foot back on the floor and scooted close to me again. "Have you ever had your retinas altered?" he said.

"No," I said.

"Not even cosmetically?" he said.

I looked at Caramel, with her glowing heart-shaped irises and wondered what else she'd had done to her eyes.

"No. Eye surgery creeps me out," I said. "Please tell me that's not in my future."

Gideon held up a finger and watched me tracking it.

"No, I don't think so. As long as you haven't done any unusual mods, I think we can get away with surface measures," he said. "I'm not picking anything up. Your retinas look clean."

Then I remembered. "Well, there's mesh in there, and on my ocular cortex, actually. I'm fast perceptually, too. I can see things that are too quick for others to notice."

Gideon nodded. "I thought so. Your eyes track too rapidly not to be augmented. I'm surprised you've never been caught before."

"I'm very careful anytime I'm in public, and I'm selective about the doctors I'll see. And yet somehow, I still ended up working with Royce," I said.

"Hey now," Royce said. "Watch it, or I'm not giving you the good stuff after your surgery. I could lose my license doing this for you."

"Is that going to be a problem?" I said to Gideon.

"Your retinal stamp looks natural, and that's the most important part. We have a few options for dealing with that," he said.

"Such as?" I said.

"The best option would be retinal injections to temporarily change their shape. Those are uncomfortable, but it's a one time deal—lasts for a few weeks and then slowly returns to its normal state. We could also use eye drops and contacts to help blur out your retinal print. I think the lenses are actually more uncomfortable, and the eye drops burn, but you only need to wear them when you're out in public. So it's your choice—one time discomfort with the injections, or some constant irritation with the lens and drop combo," Gideon said. "Royce might be able to help you with that choice. We'd take care of fitting the lenses, but he would deal with the injections."

"Oh great, two fantastic choices. Another needle through my eye," I said.

Royce cleared his throat. "You kind of need another ocular steroid injection anyway—it's a convenient way to breach the neural space. I could do them at the same time. One injection, just change the syringes out with your head stabilized. I say we just go that way."

"Sounds logical," Gideon said.

Royce smirked. "Knowing Jin, she won't like the contacts, then lie about wearing them, and we'll all get busted."

"What do you think I am, stupid?" I said. "Don't answer that."

"I'll let you two figure out what you're going to do about the retina situation—I'll just assume Royce will take care of it until I hear otherwise. If not, we'll need to fit the lenses before you leave. I tweak the circuits, and Caramel paints the surface, so they take awhile to finish."

"So the painful scary eye injections are faster too, how fantastic," I said. "What else?"

"The rest is really simple, since you're such a low-tech. We'll need to make a thin prosthetic to cover your face to scramble any facial recognition software you might encounter. I make the microcircuitry, and Caramel does all the surface work. Caramel will set you up with some clothes that will help reflect body morphology recognition programs too. No time to make something custom." He pointed to the racks of clothes. "You'll just have to wear some of Caramel's private stash."

I looked at the racks and racks full of frilly Lolita dresses, and thought about what I'd look like wearing them.

The needle in my eye sounded more pleasant.

"We'll have to do another set of prosthetics for your fingerprints, and I think we can get away with jewelry for your temporary collar tag replacements. Caramel has some pieces that we can modify quickly," he said.

"At least you're not implanting other tags. I'd rather not dig into my bone marrow anymore than necessary," I said.

"It's not the best solution, but as long as you're not planning on spending a lot of time in public places, it should be good enough, combined with the other measures. If you're careful about the clothes and facial prosthetics, that should scramble most of the tracking software. The tag jewelry is an extra measure, just in case," he said.

"How long is this all going to take? Sounds really complicated," I said.

"We'll get it taken care of in twenty four hours or less. While Caramel's finishing all the cosmetic touches, I'll crack into the databases, create a fake tag profile, and link it to the hardware—we'll grab a quick retinal scan to add it dataset once you decide how to deal with that part."

"I'll do it surgically. Much better option. I'll take a new imprint once I complete the injections," Royce said.

Caramel pranced over, finished with whatever she was preparing on the counter. She put her hands in my hair, fluffing it and ruining whatever semblance of a style I had going on.

Keeping my mouth shut was a struggle.

"I can't wait to do your hair, this is going to be great," she said.

"Um, what's wrong with my hair? This already isn't my natural color—whatever's in Korea's database is the color I was born with."

"Oh, it's not for cloaking purposes. It just looks horrible—I'll make sure you leave looking great all around."

This hairdo cost several thousand dollars, done by a famous stylist down in West Hollywood. No one's ever insulted my hairstyle before. I jerked my head out of her reach. Speed has its advantages. "Let's just stick with the necessities. We don't have much time," I said.

Caramel frowned. "No fun. Maybe when you come back again, you can have tea and play dress up with me. Looks like you don't have many clothes at home."

I closed my eyes. Okay yes, my clothes were not in good shape right now, but they were still expensive, designer pieces.

"Sounds like a great idea," I forced myself to say. "So what's next?"

Caramel picked up the bubbling pot of liquid plastic from the table. "We get started! I'll make the prosthetic mask so that Gideon can start making all the cloaking circuits while I paint it to look natural. This is my favorite part," she said.

Molten plastic. Crazy Lolita doll. My face. That was a combo I never would want to put together, but look somehow I ended up in this bizarre situation. Remind me not to get sold to evil Korean companies for medical experiments in the future.

The fallout was less than desirable.

I looked to Gideon, partly to escape the gleeful look in Caramel's eyes. She just couldn't wait to smear hot plastic all over me.

"How did you want us to pay for this? My apologies, but I'm not sure about preferred currencies down here." Money. The other thing giving me anxiety right now. This was going to cost a fortune.

"Ask her baby, ask her!" Caramel said.

Gideon rolled his eyes. "Just one thing. We want your car."

I cocked my head. "I beg your pardon? Which one?"

Gideon hit a button on his neck and a monitor appeared on the back wall. So ironic that they were using that much surveillance. They had a camera set up near Leo's taco truck, and the Lotus was in view.

"That one. Caramel really wants that car," he said.

"I have a dozen other cars. You can have any of those. That one is...special to me," I said.

"No no, I want that one! I won't take anything else. I want it I want it!" Caramel said.

"What could you possibly want with a car down here?" I said.

Gideon exhaled. "Caramel likes drag racing. There's a race strip in the southwest part of the Undergrid. It's big money if you can win the yearly championship. It's coming up in a few weeks, and she's been eyeing your car."

"And there's nothing else you'll take in return?" I said. The thought of losing my Lotus was like being asked to chop off my arm. Which, at this rate, I was fortunate wasn't actually part of the process.

"No no, I want that one!" Caramel said.

Gideon shrugged. "I can't reason with her. So what will it be?"

I frowned and stared at my Lotus on the flickering security footage.

"If that's really the only option, I guess don't really have a choice here."

"Yay! I'm so excited—I'm going to smoke those bastards at the next tournament. Okay, get ready!" Caramel snagged the bubbling plastic from the counter and grabbed a big wooden spoon.

Death by neural mesh was looking more appealing every minute.

***

Back in the parking lot again, standing there just like we had a few hours before, but now everything felt totally different. My car, gone. My face, blotchy from hours of molten latex. My clothes, stained with makeup and other pigments.

My soul, melted from Caramel's piercing voice ringing in my ears, right up in my business all night.

And my car.

Gone.

That car represented something else. Not just a simple machine, or even a symbol of all my wealth. Freedom. It meant freedom to me, and now I was lacking in wheels, money, and my precious freedom.

So what was left?

Gavin put his arm around my shoulders, and I rested my head in the crook of his neck. Not usually big on touching, I got the feeling Gavin wanted comfort himself as much as he wanted make me feel better.

"Now what?" I said. I felt absolutely drained, like I could sleep for a thousand years. "I'll send for another car," Gavin said.

"Don't bother, just ride back with me," Royce said. "We don't have time to wait."

I stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"You need to come back to the clinic so we can get started. I want us off the ground in twenty-four hours, and that's not a lot of time for you to heal from a surgery that big before getting shoved into an airplane. And Gavin's going to need that much time to unravel the rest of the logistics of actually getting into this place."

I froze. "You want to do the surgery tonight? Both of them?" I looked down at my collarbones and my ankles, dreading what they were going to look like after Royce got through mauling my bones.

"What part of 'time limit' did you not understand?" he said. "There's a finite period you can tolerate those steroids before your other systems start shutting down too. Once we get to Korea, we'll still have traveling to do, and you need to be strong enough to go through another round of procedures. Time is of the essence. We do the surgery tonight."

"Gavin, tell him this is crazy. He hasn't slept. You really want a half dead surgeon slicing into my bones?" I said.

Gavin, his arm still around me, stiffened. "You both have valid points. Both are equally troubling. There's no clear path for us to follow here."

And I wasn't kidding—I knew I was a total wreck, but Royce looked almost as bad. Who the hell wanted an impaired physician ripping them open in the middle of the night? Not I.

"I have this insane idea. It's called compromise," I said.

Gavin leaned to the side. The expression on his face told me how awful I looked. He brushed hair away from my forehead and picked off a shred of latex, softly kissing the raw spot underneath.

"Compromise it is," Gavin said and turned to Royce. "You take a nap. And I don't mean like a five-minute catnap. Real sleep. I don't care where you do it—it can be in your clinic or back at Jin Tower. Either way, I mean several hours of uninterrupted sleep. And you're going to eat something real too—I'll have it delivered to you, either out here or to your suite at the tower. You don't touch Jin until you're feeling fresh as a daisy. Got it? A few hours isn't going to make a real difference at this point, and you know it."

Royce sighed. "Fine. But we're going to the clinic where I can get Jin back on meds. She needs to be monitored. Trying to deal with her condition in the tower is too dangerous," he said.

Gavin nodded. "You take care of her," he said, the unspoken threat hanging heavy in the air.

"Look, I know you think I'm reckless, but I don't lose. I never lose. I'm not letting this thing beat Jin," he said.

"I'll go back to the clinic with you, then once Jin's settled in I'll head back to the tower and make sure food is sent over for you. I'll finish up my investigations, take care of all the travel details, and then come back. I want to be there for the surgery," Gavin said.

And it meant the world to me. I wasn't doing this alone.

"That's reasonable," he said quickly. "Let's go." He started walking towards his car.

"I'm not getting in that sad excuse for a vehicle," I said.

Royce laughed. "You know what, right now it's better than what you got for a car, which is jack squat."

"Right, I got it. I'm still not getting in that sloppy jalopy. I'll probably get scabies or something."

"Just get in the car, it's not that bad. It's even got power steering," he said.

"Fine," I said. "But I call shotgun."
Chapter Twelve

"Jin. Stop. It's going to be okay," Royce said.

Shaking. Everything was shaking and blurry.

"I can't see," I said.

Hands moving over my body, things poking me.

Things hurting.

"Hold still for a second. You're alright," Royce said.

He kept saying that, and it kept feeling like a total lie.

He grabbed my eyelids and stinging liquid ran across my face. I jerked my head away and rubbed my eyes.

"Let that sit. Your vision should recover," he said.

With more blinking and rubbing, my eyes started clearing, but moving my arms was agony—my chest was on fire.

I groaned.

At least the burning in my eyes subsided, and I could see again. Not blind.

Bonus.

"What the hell is going on?" I said.

"We're on a plane, halfway to Korea. You're recovering. Your vitals are stable," Royce said.

"I feel like I'm dying."

"You're not dying. You're just in pain," he said.

"Says you," I said.

Things still weren't totally clear, but there was definitely someone else in the room with us.

Gavin.

He took my hand and squeezed it.

"Hang in there," he said. "You made it through the worst of it."

If it had been worse than this, I was glad that I didn't remember it. Thank god for drugs.

"What the hell did you do to me?"

"The marrow tag on the right side migrated up way higher than they're supposed to sit. I had to do a lot more bone destruction to get it out, so it's going to be more sore than I prepared you for. It should still heal fine," Royce said.

"If by sore, you mean excruciating pain, then you are correct."

"Are you really that uncomfortable?"

I closed my eyes and nodded, but that small movement made it feel like my arm was going to fall off. It was almost like someone had sawed through my collarbone. Oh. Right. That's exactly what it was.

Royce put his hand on my head in a surprisingly sweet gesture. "I'll get you some more pain medication. I wanted to let wake up, see how you were healing. In a few more hours, I think you'll feel a lot better. Antibiotics, stem cells, some extra immune factors, that should speed things along. By the time we land, you should be basically okay."

As my vision improved, I took better stock of my surroundings. We were definitely on a plane. A small plane, and it wasn't a nice one. I owned several aircrafts, but this wasn't one of my mine. The ripped brown leather seats, the dirty carpet, the peeling plastic ceiling—this thing looked like something that had been pulled out of a scrapyard. My planes had clean white seats, plush carpets, a full bar, and other niceties that I preferred not to fly without.

I was laying on one of those seats, mostly reclined back, but not quite horizontal, my head and arms propped up on pillows, my feet raised up higher than my head. A network of thick bandages covered my chest, blood seeping through in a few places. Blankets covered my legs, and maybe that was a good thing. Not sure I wanted to know what my feet looked like under there. Hard to say what was more painful—my legs or my chest.

Deep bone pain. My favorite.

"I got a few good steroid doses in too. Going directly into the brainstem seems to be bypassing some of the systemic side effects. Hopefully that will hold you for a while. Let me know if you start feeling any mesh symptoms. Might need to do another."

Right. The eye injections. I'd been awake for those, just to make sure nothing went wrong with either my vision or the steroids hitting my brain. That was something that I'd rather forget ever happened. There wasn't enough sedation in the world to deal with needles through the eye socket.

I finally realized that the shaking was the plane, and not me having a neural freakout. We were catching some insane turbulence, and I had a feeling it wasn't totally due to the weather.

Looking at the inside, I was surprised this thing was even able to stay in the air. It even smelled off—old, mildewy, like rotten carpet and stale booze and cigarettes. Actually, it reminded me of how skanky casinos smelled, like some of the crumbling joints in Vegas, or, my favorite, Augustine's sleazy parlors in Riverside. Not all of my establishments were high-end, but I tried to keep them clean. Cheap doesn't have to mean disgusting.

Gavin sat next to me on one of the tattered seats, holding my hand, his fingers sneaking around the IV lines. As usual, he was looking great, wearing a long silk kimono with a magenta and white pattern. His bleached hair was spiked up and forward, and he wore matching eye shadow. Even in a crisis, his style was immaculate.

Royce was wearing a pair of dull green scrubs, but he looked clean for once. He hovered over me with a big syringe, and I cringed in anticipation.

"Relax," he said. "I put in a central line already—this won't hurt. You should feel better in a minute."

Gavin squeezed my hand tighter as Royce fumbled around the bandages on my chest to find an IV port that was tucked beneath my collarbone. I vaguely remembered being awake when he put that in too, and it hadn't been comfortable either.

"Ugh, just kill me now," I said.

"No way, not after how much trouble I've been going through to keep you alive," Royce said.

"You didn't tell me it was going to be this bad. Why would anyone do this on purpose?" I said.

"People will do a lot for freedom, and I don't usually move someone so soon after the surgery. You're having an unusually rough time of it," he said.

"Great, I'm so relieved," I said. Then whatever he gave me hit, and I really did feel relieved. The jerky plane ride suddenly felt more like we were gliding over silken clouds.

"Well, that's clearly working," Royce said. "Better?"

I gave him a mumbled, "Mhmm. Thanks."

"I don't like seeing her like this," Gavin said to him.

Royce shook his head. "Price of admission. With another few hours of rest, she'll improve dramatically."

I was getting tired of them talking about me like I wasn't even there, but I didn't have the energy to argue.

Slowly, I said, "Can one of you tell me why we're in this hunk of junk? Feels like we're going to fall out of the sky, and it smells worse than Royce's car."

"Man, even drugged you're a pain in the ass," Royce said.

Gavin cleared his throat. "We can't take any of our planes—too risky. They could be identified, even if we scrubbed the serial numbers. We'd never make it past international air space."

"So you rented an airplane made out of cardboard?" I said.

Gavin looked away for a second. "Untraceable aircraft are expensive. Especially nice untraceable aircraft. We needed a clandestine piece of equipment meant for the...conservative budget, if you know what I mean."

I closed my eyes, and even with the drugs it felt like there were little bits of sand sticking to my corneas. "What aren't you telling me?" I said.

"I don't want to worry you," Gavin said.

"Too late, already worried."

He sighed. "Just difficult trying to keep the real estate situation under control. I have no idea where Augustine is getting this kind of capital, but he's shelling out some serious cash to push these deals through. I had to make sure we kept pace. We're holding steady, but if we're not careful, I'm going to have to start selling off things to keep us afloat."

"Crafty bastard knows how important those spots are. Especially Venice. He who controls the coast, controls the county," I said.

Gavin and I both knew one option that we didn't want to take, and that was shifting the odds. Everyone knows that in a casino, the house always has the advantage. But I made sure that the range was always reasonable. We made a decent profit, but people got a fair shake. If you started screwing your customers by jacking with the odds, it didn't take long before they would start taking their money elsewhere. Even doing it temporarily could cause an issue, taint our reputation permanently.

I'd sell Jin Tower before resorting to that.

There were other ways of getting money, but they involved substantial risks and illegal activities that would bite you in the ass later. I already had enough trouble with the Triads and the Yakuza, and that game could go sour, fast. That's how Vegas had gone down the tubes, and I wouldn't let the same thing happen to my little empire in Pasadena.

Gavin watched as I processed all the options and quietly accepted why were cruising along in what felt like a steel death trap.

"It's not pretty, but it passed the safety inspection. It will get us to Korea in one piece," Gavin said, and I trusted him. He didn't cut corners, and he wouldn't risk our lives like that.

"I get it. I just have to get over my disdain for things that don't look or smell great. Like Royce."

Royce shook a finger at me. "I swear, I'm going to knock you out again if you can't be civil for more than a few minutes."

I smiled, knowing my grin was goofy from the drugs. "I'm just kidding, you look pretty good, actually. Almost handsome. Although that could just be because you messed with my retinas."

Royce cocked his head. "Are you having any trouble seeing?"

"My eyes feel like sandpaper, but I think I can see okay," I said, but it was getting harder to keep my eyes open.

"Let me know if anything changes. Everything looked fine after the injections, but you're not supposed to fly after doing something like that."

"How fantastic, I'm all about doing medically unadvisable procedures," I said.

"Ocular implants work pretty good these days—no big deal if you go blind," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "You're not helping."

"Keep rolling your eyes like that and you might actually lose them," he said, and I wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

I decided not to test it.

"So when we get to Korea, then what?" I said.

"Gavin seems like he's got it all under control. Might be some kinks, but I trust he can figure it all out, right buddy?" Royce said.

Gavin nodded. "There are a few sticky spots, but I think I've got it all set up now. The factory is on Wando, but we'll need to land in Mokpo."

Wando. I had only been there once before. It was a tiny island down at the far southeastern tip of the peninsula, at the opposite end from Seoul. Not a lot of tourism down there. Good place to stick a secret lab.

"Why can't we just land on Wando? It used to be totally deserted," I said. It was also prone to getting hit by the typhoons that went spinning past Japan, and I couldn't imagine why you'd want to stick a factory there. Seemed like a fool's adventure.

"I did some digging around, and there's a ton of air security there. Probably because of the Chaebol," Gavin said.

"I wish one of the typhoons would just sweep the whole damned thing away," I said.

"You don't want that," Royce said. "If that factory disappears, you're shit out of luck again."

"Judging from the satellite images, the factory is made out of solid concrete blocks—resistant to storms. Most of the time, Japan slows down those storms anyway, so it would be less dangerous than say, if you were in Busan or Okinawa," Gavin said.

"Well aren't they clever. They thought of everything, didn't they? So then how the hell do we get down there?" I said.

"The hard way, of course," Gavin said. "We land in Mokpo, then we make our way to Wando the old fashioned way—bus, car, boat, whatever we can find that's discreet, untraceable. I'll know more once we're actually in Mokpo and I can verify a few connections. I didn't want to leave a hot trail there before we even land."

Mokpo.

Oh, Mokpo, how I'd tried to forget you and all your glorious neon filth. Hidden in the bottom corner of the country, Mokpo was a hub for underground activities. Right on the coast, it fielded Yakuza traffic trying to bypass Busan, and with an economy torn between fishing and non-existent tourism, black market activities flourished.

My kind of town.

With everything crumbling around me, I latched on to the thought of seeing Mokpo for the first time in decades. I wondered if it was as decadently depraved as I remembered it.

It must have showed on my face, because Gavin smiled and said, "I thought you might be excited about that. But no sneaking out to gamble. Even though it's far away from Seoul, we still need to be majorly careful. No telling what type of gangs are running down there now. I'm sure things have changed since we had to leave the country."

After we escaped the Chaebol, Mokpo had been one of the places we took shelter while trying to scrounge up enough money to finally escape.

And it had been glorious.

If we hadn't been forced to leave, that's where I would have set up my gambling empire. Granted, with gambling being illegal in Korea, it would have been much more difficult than it was in Pasadena. Running a legit business gave me the luxury of being relaxed, casual, able to really enjoy my luxury. I didn't have to keep eyes in the back of my head all the time because we weren't doing anything against the law.

But gambling when it was illegal was extra exciting. Something about forbidden fruit, forbidden pleasures that made them even more sweet, no matter how much I'd like to pretend it wasn't tempting.

"What makes you think I'd do something like that?" I said.

Royce laughed. "Funny. No idea why we'd be suspicious. Just enjoy those drugs and get some rest."

I should have protested, but sleep felt irresistible.

"Don't. Don't let this thing crash," I said.

"On my honor," Gavin said. "I'll get us there safely."

I closed my eyes, but all I saw were the neon lights of Mokpo reflecting off a dark sea and memories of poker cards flitting through my fingertips.

With any luck, Mokpo would be in the palm of my hand once again.

Chapter Thirteen

Even with my eyes closed, I would have known I was back in Korea. That hot, heavy breeze, full of salt. Humid. Sticky.

Glorious.

I missed it here, terribly, and that wasn't something I ever admitted to myself since escaping the country. Don't get me wrong, horrible things happened to me there. Revolting.

Yet, this was also where I found my true strength. And where I made and lost some of the best friends of my life.

A lot of memories.

A lot of pain.

But a lot of power.

I closed my eyes and let it all sink in, wishing that delicious breeze would pick me up and sail me over the city so I could float like a cloud over the bright evening filled with temptations.

While I was still passed out on the plane, Gavin had snuck off and found a car to transport us into Mokpo. Royce was happy with how I'd healed over the past several hours, but he wanted to see more bone fusion before moving me around again. That meant more time sleeping, which didn't sound as appealing as I thought it would.

Maybe it was all the drugs, or maybe it was just adrenaline, but as soon as I stepped out onto the waterfront and saw all that neon, smelled that thick, hot wind in my face, I felt electric. It had been days since I'd done any gambling. I wanted to throw some cards or roll some dice. I wanted some action.

Bad.

And we were short on cash. If I could find a local scene to slip into, I could make us some quick, extra scratch. I could start small, no huge bets, nothing big lost if anything went wrong with the mesh. More pocket money would be nice. We were staying at a love hotel, which is just what it sounds like— couples use them as a clandestine place to have a fun night away from home. They tended to be cheaper than normal hotels. My toes curled. Cheap hotels. Consequences of the new economy.

Gavin had driven off in the car already. Checking into the hotel at the same time would be too distinctive, and Gavin said he needed to check on a few other things first. So the plan was for me and Royce to get the hotel room, and then Gavin would sneak up a back stairwell later. I was still sore as hell and groggy from the pain meds, but I thought I could keep it together long enough to check into the hotel without attracting suspicion.

Actually, it was Royce that was going to attract the most attention, not me. Not a lot of non-Asians in this neck of the woods. Tourists were probably still something of an oddity down here. So we had two options: hide him, or pretend that he was my boyfriend.

And he was just too big and loud to hide.

Pretending to be Royce's girlfriend—just what I needed after having my sternum ripped open and suffering through the plane ride from hell.

Meanwhile, I was still thinking of how I could slip away. It would be tough, but the thought of being back in Mokpo and not getting to check out the scene, taste the soju, flip some cards under the neon, felt unbearable.

Unfortunately, even if I escaped, I was stuck wearing these absolutely ridiculous clothes.

Thanks, Caramel.

"You look simply stunning, actually," Royce said.

"You would like this dress, you pervert," I said.

Beyond the fact that the fabric was a horrible fake satin blend, the garment was totally hideous. Worse than what Caramel herself had been wearing. I stood in the street, trying to enjoy the gorgeous waves lapping at the seashore walkway, but it was impossible when I was wearing a bright pink, frilly Lolita dress. I was drowning in ruffles, and I almost would have rather drowned myself in the ocean.

"Too bad I had to take a hacksaw to your collarbones, but those adorable bows cover them up nicely," Royce said with a chuckle.

"There are so many thing wrong with that statement."

"Ah, come on, it could be worse. Cheer up," he said.

"No Royce, I really don't see how it could be worse. I'm broke. I've been sliced open from neck to ankle. I've got failing implants frying all my circuits. And, I'm standing in a country where both the police and an evil company are potentially looking for me. Tell me, how, exactly, could it be worse."

Royce shrugged. "You're not dead. Come on, we need to move. One of us is attracting too much attention already."

I snickered. "It's you, you big ugly thug. Look around. I'm not the only one wearing clothes like this, but you're the only white dude."

"Better stay under cover then. Start getting snuggly with me."

"In your dreams, buddy. I have absolutely no desire to get snuggly with you."

"Fine, but try to pretend like you don't hate me or something," he said and put his huge arm around me.

I squeaked. "Watch it! Do you or do you not remember cracking open my chest less than two days ago?"

Royce actually looked embarrassed, so that was something. "Sorry, you're just so resilient. I'm impressed at how quickly you're bouncing back."

"I still hurt. Tons. I just hate admitting defeat. To anyone or anything." Now that I was standing, my feet were throbbing. Shoved into loose-fitting boots, I still worried my ankles might swell and get stuck.

"Those high-powered drugs probably don't hurt, either," he said. "Remind me to give you some more later, if you need them. Once we're all settled, you should sleep for another solid twelve hours or more before we travel again. Gavin said it would take that long for him finalize the plans. May as well use that time to heal before the next leg of the trip."

"Don't remind me. I'd rather pretend the next part of this trip doesn't exist."

Royce shook the big heavy black bag he was carrying. "I'm fully stocked. I should be able to take care of almost anything with this equipment."

A couple on the wharf stared at us before quickly shuffling away.

"Crap," I said. "We should stop speaking in English, at least out on the street. It's not that common here."

"Well, I don't speak Korean, so I don't know what you want me to do."

"I have a great idea. Why don't we just make this a time for quiet reflection. You keep silent until I get us checked in and up to the hotel. Just pretend to be my big, dumb, silent, white boyfriend. Shouldn't be too hard for you."

"Very funny," he said.

"Oh, that was English. What I'm looking for here is silence."

"Maybe you should teach me some Korean then."

"I'll put it on the list of things to do later when I'm not busy dying," I said.

"At least hold my hand or something, make it look legit."

"Fine. Give me your hand. It better not be sweaty."

He wiped it on his pants. He was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Low quality, of course, but I wondered if Gavin had helped him pack or something because they didn't look all that bad on him for once.

I rolled my eyes, but took his hand, and carefully, trying not to wobble, I walked down the boardwalk with him, heading towards the love hotel across the street.

***

The inside of the hotel lobby was surprisingly clean. Given our current budget situation, I was expecting a total flophouse. While sparsely decorated with cheap grey-veined tiles and just a few sad looking plants, it still smelled okay and was noticeably absent of any bugs or obvious grime. It was also a nice temperature, even in the lobby, which was unusual. That extra A/C cost money, and Gavin had me paranoid that we couldn't afford something this nice.

Royce walked stiffly beside me, still holding my hand, and doing what appeared to be his best at being silent and innocuous. Meaning, he walked awkwardly and looked like he wanted blurt out something stupid at literally any second.

I was walking just as stiffly, but it was because of being sore and annoyed at having to pretend to be a couple. His huge hand just enveloped my tiny fist, and I felt like I was dragging around a giant. Beauty and the beast, if you asked me, although a lot of women (and men) might disagree.

I'd stepped through the hotel's scanner when we first crossed the threshold, and so far so good, no alarms ringing or police coming to get me. That meant that Royce, Caramel, and Gideon all did their jobs, and there I was, in Korea, not rotting in a jail cell. Amazing.

Royce's fist was getting sweaty, and I resisted the urge to jerk my hand away. The front desk clerk didn't look like she'd care —I bet she'd seen it all. Bored and totally frumpy, she wore no makeup, and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her white uniform was baggy, but clean. Maybe management made her wear that bland outfit so that she wouldn't distract the guests. Wandering eyes at a love motel was bad business.

I cleared my throat and addressed her in Korean, "We have a room reserved."

She stared at me. Hard.

Damn.

I thought about all the things she could be looking at. Was it my bizarre dress? Was the facial prosthetic noticeable? Could she tell I was a little bit high on pain medication? Did she notice my limp? Was she disgusted at my beast of a "boyfriend?"

"What room number?" she asked coldly.

Safer not to ask for names. Nice. "Room 117," I said and she winced. Just a little with one eye. I barely caught it, but it was there.

Crap. It was my accent. In Seoul, no one would have cared, but down here they had different accents. My accent was somewhere between Seoul and Los Angeles. I may have just put a big blinking sign over our heads that said We Don't Belong Here.

Lingering in the lobby was not a smart idea.

We exchanged keys and money, and I thanked her hastily before pulling Royce towards the elevator. I punched the button three times quickly, and Royce squeezed my hand. I looked at him, and he shook his head. He was right. Looking panicky wasn't going to help the situation.

When the elevator doors opened, I forced myself to stroll inside, slowly.

After the doors closed Royce said, "Really smooth. Nice work."

I breathed out. "That clerk was definitely suspicious. She was giving me all kinds of shade about my accent."

"You have an accent in Korean too?" he said.

I glared at him. "You saying I talk funny in English?"

He shrugged. "A little, yeah, you didn't know?"

"I know, but you don't have to call attention to it."

"It's not a bad thing. It's just another thing that makes you special."

I took a step back. "Whoa there. You keep saying nice things to me and people are really going to think we're dating."

He smirked. "I'm sure you'll piss me off again in a minute. Take the compliments while they last."

Chapter Fourteen

It hadn't been that long between leaving the plane and getting into the hotel, but that little bit of activity wore me out. As soon as we got into the room, I wanted to collapse on the bed and take a nap, which totally conflicted with my desire to somehow drug Royce and slip out and explore the city.

"You look tired," Royce said.

"You're not supposed to say stuff like that to a lady," I said.

"You're not a lady, you're my patient. And you look sick."

"Funny, I get the feeling a lot of your patients end up that way."

"And you sound cranky."

The hotel room was clean enough, but sparse, rather like the lobby. It only had one big, round bed right in the center of the dull room.

"Are we really all going to share a bed?" I said.

Royce put down the bags and sat on a small, beige vinyl couch. "I didn't pick this place. You can blame Gavin for that part. I get the feeling places like this tend to not have separate beds, if you know what I mean. Works for me—if you have trouble in the middle of the night, it will be easier for me to wake up and help you," he said and put his hands on his face, like the thought of waking up in the middle of the night was unbearable.

I sat down on the bed and clicked on a light. "Damn, you know you look pretty rough yourself."

He scoffed. "It's almost like I've been awake for the last week trying to take care of you."

"Hey, Royce," I said.

He put his head up and raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Thank you."

He stared at me, the hollows under his eyes dark in the dim hotel light. "That sounded sincere."

"It was. As much as I'm not happy about this." I motioned to my mangled chest. "I am happy to be alive."

He grunted. "Means a lot to me. Thanks."

Cue the awkward silence. I ignored it by taking off my shoes. "Ouch," I said when the first one got stuck on the bandages on my ankles.

Royce hissed, like he was feeling my pain. "Here, let me help you with that. You shouldn't have been standing up and walking anywhere yet.

"I don't think the humidity is helping with swelling," I said. Even with air conditioning, the air was heavy with moisture. On the bright side, it would be great for my skin.

He came to the bed and knelt down, carefully peeling off my boots. I winced as the second one rubbed against the wounds while he tried to wiggle it free.

I let out a huge sigh. "That feels a lot better."

"How would you feel about taking a shower?"

I looked down at all the bandages. "Can I?"

He nodded. "I should be able to take out the stitches—stem cells should have healed the incisions by now. Just be gentle." He peered into bathroom. "And sit down or something. I don't want you falling."

The bathroom was Asian-style—no tub or stall, just a tile floor with a drain in the center and a showerhead on a long hose hanging from the wall. Not my favorite way to bathe, but there was a stool on the floor to sit on. I agreed with Royce for once—standing sounded like way too much work.

"Sounds good to me," I said. "Actually, anything that involves taking off this disgusting dress sounds good to me. Please tell me you packed some normal clothes for me to sleep in." In the heat, it was also apparent that I hadn't taken a shower since the last time I was at Jin Tower, and that was days ago.

"Gavin packed all your stuff, so I'm assuming he picked things you like," he said. "Scoot back on the bed, and I'll check out your wounds."

I moved back and reclined against the pillows. The fabric was rough. You'd think a love hotel would spring for decent bedding. Maybe the sheets beneath were nicer.

Royce fumbled in his bags and came up with a small medical kit. He spread a few tools on the bed and pulled on a pair of gloves.

"This might be a little tender. Try and breathe," Royce said as he started pulling off the bandages.

"Did you ever tell me what was in there? Down in my ankles? I was so out of it before, I can't remember," I said.

"It was exactly what Gideon thought it was—tracking chip, probably from whoever put in your mesh. That Chaebol most likely. I doubt it would have worked from that far away, but as soon as you set foot back in Korea, I bet it would have alerted them to your presence. We're lucky Gideon found them down there. Once all the swelling goes down, it might actually feel better—likely it was contributing to all your immune reaction problems."

I closed my eyes as he tugged and pulled on the bandages and then started prodding at my anklebones.

"Do you think if someone from the company had come to Los Angeles...they would have been able to use it to track me down?" I said.

Royce nodded. "Definitely. Although you're so visible in L.A., I doubt they would have needed a device to find you. I didn't have much time to take it apart, but it might have had some other functions, too."

"Like what?"

"Hard to say. It was touching the mesh configuration. Might have been able to short out your system. Like an emergency off switch."

I froze. "You mean. Kill me?" I didn't like the thought of being snuffed out as easy as turning off a light bulb.

"Yeah. Bad stuff. I could be wrong, but I'm wondering if this was exacerbating the mesh failure. Can't say for sure, so don't get your hopes up. Gideon's going to take a look at it, let us know what he finds. He's got a knack with weird electronics."

"Holy hell," I said. Nothing like learning that you may have been living with an automatic kill switch inside you for the last twenty years.

"Yeah. Glad I got that out of you. I've seen everything, and that was disturbing even to me," he said.

"Your policy of zero implants is sounding better and better every day."

The bandages were off and he picked up each foot, inspecting the wounds. Even in the bad lighting, I could see how gnarly they looked.

"It's not bad, actually," he said.

I groaned. "My feet look like mutant sausages."

Smeared with blood, covered with bruises, and three times the size they should have been, the thought of ever wearing shoes again was repulsive. I must have been high as hell earlier to even consider letting Royce put those shoes on me.

"They look pretty good, considering what I had to do to get those chips out of there without disrupting the mesh array. You're lucky you have someone as skilled as me working on you."

"Lucky is my middle name. Actually, it's my dog's name, and I miss him." Nothing would have made me feel better than to curl up with Lucky in my soft, wonderful sheets and forget this whole thing was happening.

"He's a pretty cool dog. I didn't mind him hanging around the clinic with me."

"Maybe you're not so bad after all. Hard to hate another dog-lover. I swear, if that bastard Augustine tries to bring greyhound racing back to the county, I will bankrupt my entire business to stop it. In fact, consider this a verbal will. If I die, use my fortune to make sure that doesn't happen."

"You're not going to die. Not if I can help it, and I'm almost as stubborn as you. Between the two of us, I think we have this covered. As long as you don't keep trying to fight me. That means no sneaking out again or anything like that."

"Yes, Dad," I said. Truthfully, even though putting shoes back on sounded like it would feel like putting my feet into boiling water, it didn't quell my fantasies of prowling all the back alleys of Mokpo.

I wanted to know who was out there now.

And who was ready to play.

"Deep breath, I'm going to scrub the incisions and clip the sutures. Might sting a bit, and there's some deep bruising here that's going to take a while longer to resolve," he said.

I gritted my teeth as the cold liquid hit my skin, and, as promised, it stung, but there was a strange relief after he took out all the stitches.

"I didn't see an ice machine down there, but we should be icing you periodically. Once you're situated, I'll try to find some," he said.

"Korea's not big on ice in water. It can be hard to find," I said.

"Maybe Gavin can bring some back. I want you as comfortable as possible before we move again."

What he didn't say was that he wanted me in good shape before we tried more experimental medical procedures that would be painful and potentially end up killing me in the end.

"Let's take a look at your collarbones. Think you can handle it, or do you need a break?"

"Just do it. I want to take off this dress."

"I need more light." He turned on the bathroom light and another light in a closet, and the room brightened. It was probably even more sad looking by daylight. I gathered most of their clientele didn't turn up until after sundown. I could give them a few business pointers, but somehow I didn't think it would be appreciated.

"I need to unzip your top," he said.

"Go for it. I can't do it."

He slipped a hand behind me and undid the dress. With more courtesy than I gave him credit for, he gently rolled down the top of the awful, frilly dress. Supposedly there were all these invisible radiofrequency and light reflecting strips strategically embedded in the fabric that would help blur out silhouette on various scanners. I just thought it was so ugly that no security cameras would be able to record the dress without self-destructing.

Carefully, he started removing the bandages from my chest, and it hurt way more than my ankles.

"I'm definitely going to need some more drugs," I said.

"Sorry. It's that right side. It really migrated way farther than I've ever seen before. You need more time lying still. The bones need to set. I should have your arms splinted to your sides, but that would attract too much attention."

Not being able to move my arms didn't sound good.

How would I hold a deck of cards?

"Do you need another minute before I take out the stitches?" he said.

"Just get it over with."

"Okay. Maybe don't look down yet."

I'd been staring at the ceiling, avoiding looking at my chest, but then I couldn't resist, of course. For once, Royce was definitely right. A long line of bloody stitches ran from my left shoulder clear to my right.

"I look like a goddamned science project," I said.

"Don't worry too much about it—after we put your tags back, I can do some plastics work. You won't even know anything happened."

"I'm going to be really annoyed if I can't wear low-cut shirts anymore. This whole ruffles and rainbows crap is not a style I want to continue."

I closed my eyes again as he scrubbed the whole area and slowly pulled out the stitches.

"There's a lot of swelling up here too, and that's part of what's causing so much of the pain. Getting some ice on there after you've showered should really help speed things up," he said. "Overall though, this is looking good. A few places I want to keep an eye on, but the next dose of antibiotics should knock out anything trying to get a foothold. Need to watch it with the steroids too, but pulling out those ankle chips might buy us a little more time."

"As far as the mesh thing goes, everything seems fine. Maybe you're on to something. Let's just call this whole thing off and head home."

He scoffed. "Sorry, but I doubt you're out of the woods. I'd love to get some more blood work on you, but that will have to wait. Last I heard, love motels in rural South Korea don't have in-house labs."

"Strange, how that works."

"You're all set. When you're done showering, I'll give you another boost of antibiotics and some pain meds. That should help you sleep," he said as though he knew I had inner urges for mischief.

"Shouldn't Gavin be back by now?" I said.

"He said it might take awhile. I wouldn't worry yet," he said. "Need some help?"

I tried to sit up by myself, but that required using my arms. Not great.

"Yeah, help me."

He cupped a hand under my back and pushed me into a sitting position. "I'll put all your things in the bathroom."

"If you could just teleport me in there too, that would be great."

"I could carry you," he said.

I shook my head. "I'll make it."

After much struggle, I got to my feet again and hobbled to the bathroom.

"Keep the door cracked," he said.

"You wish."

"Don't come crying to me if you fall and hit your head or something," he said. "I've seen you naked so many times, it's getting absolutely boring."

I looked down at my chest. "Even I don't want to see me naked right now. I'll call you if I have any problems."

I shut the door, and with surprising ease, I removed the facial prosthetic. As much as I hated to admit it, Caramel did a pretty damned good job on it. It looked natural, and actually wasn't all that uncomfortable.

Still, not sure it was worth giving up my car. I was already trying to think of ways to get it back.

Carefully, I sat on the bathroom stool and let warm water flow across my body. It stung when it hit some of the open scabs, but for a few minutes, I pretended like none of this was happening. So good to finally be clean.

Sitting still, without all the pain bothering me, my thoughts turned once again to the city outside. I wanted to bathe in that neon glow, weave in and out of the small streets, find where all the action was happening, and make myself a part of it. If I were here under normal circumstances, this place would be mine.

I must have blissed out in the warm water, dreaming of new empires, because Royce knocked on the door.

"You okay in there? Don't drown yourself—I've put a lot of time and money into you," he said.

I opened my eyes and came back to reality. "Glad to hear you're mainly just concerned about my well-being," I said sarcastically, but took it as a good cue to get out before I really did drown like a turkey in a rainstorm.

Carefully, I dried myself off and slipped into a comfortable silk nighty that Gavin had stuck in my bag. After the shower, my chest did look a little better. Not quite as scary with all the blood stains cleaned off, even though the bruising and the scars were still ugly. No strapless dresses for me.

Royce was standing by the window. Not surprisingly, the hotel had all the windows blacked out, which was convenient for security, but I was sad that we didn't get a nice view of the city. The neon was calling to me. There was nothing better than standing on the top of Jin Tower and gazing down at all my casinos below, blazing hard into the night. Made my fingers tingle.

He had the window cracked a bit, just enough to see a sliver of the waterfront. Purple, magenta, blue, and green lights reflected onto the dark waters from all the love hotels lining the shore, and it was just beautiful. I imagined what it would be like to put another tower here, bring a little extra pizazz to the neighborhood.

"Pretty, isn't it?" I said.

"Not bad. Like Pasadena by the sea."

"In my dreams," I said and gave his arm a fake punch. "If I make it through this thing, I'll build you your own damned tower by the ocean. All the hookers you could ever want."

"I can't tell if that's a compliment or an insult," he said. "How are you feeling?"

I shifted my shoulders, winced a bit. "Better. A lot better, actually."

"You should lay down—I want you off your feet for another twelve hours, at least. Swelling needs to go down. If your circulation gets compromised, that's going to be an issue."

"How about you? You okay?" I said.

He kept staring out the window, like he was lost in a fantasy of his own, but he looked sad.

He laughed. "Oh now you're worried about me?"

"Yes," I said, pausing. "And curious. Why are you doing this? As much as I like Mokpo, this isn't exactly a vacation for you."

"I told you, I'm stubborn."

"I know people, Royce. And people don't put themselves in danger for someone who's basically a stranger, just because they're stubborn. So what is it? I don't care if it's selfish, I just want to know. Money and fame are great motivators in my book."

He sighed. "You won't like the answer."

"I don't like a lot of what's been happening these days. May as well stay with that trend."

He turned to me. "I killed someone."

I let that sink in for a second. "Like, as in murder?" Gavin had killed probably hundreds of people, so I wasn't immediately concerned—there are many legitimate reasons to kill someone. Heck, I'd killed people before, when it was necessary.

"To me, it was. I killed my best friend."

I thought about it for a minute. "You were trying to help them," I said.

He turned away again, leaning forward and grabbing the windowsill like he was transfixed by something outside, but I knew he just didn't want to look me in the eye.

"I was young and really stupid. And cocky," he said.

"You? Cocky? Never."

He ignored me and kept going, "My friend, he was getting heavy into the Grinder scene, kept asking me to try out all these experimental mods on him. At the time, I thought I could do anything, and I kept saying yes. Then one day he asked for an unusual ocular implant. I told him no, that I wouldn't install something he just bought off some guy on the street. But he kept bugging me, goaded me by saying I just wasn't good enough to do it, and that he'd go to someone else."

"I see. So you caved."

"Big time. I was trying to build up my reputation, and I didn't want anyone besting me. So I did it. And, the surgery itself went fine, he was fine. But it was basically what's happening to you now—massive, ugly implant rejection. And I needed to remove his eyes to save him, but he wouldn't let me do it under any circumstance," he said.

"That, I can understand. Sometimes death is better than being maimed. I've had that thought myself several times this week."

"So he died. He died, and there was nothing I could do about it."

"Now I get it. I'm a surrogate case for you to solve. That's a little bit weird, but it works in my favor. More incentive for you to save me."

"Not just you. I've been spending the last decade researching implant rejections, trying to find ways to deal with the side effects. It's frustrating, and expensive work."

"Ah. Now I see why you're always scrounging for cash. Thought you were just blowing your wad on strippers and smack. Can't say I agree with your business tactics, but I am happy to profit from your results. But it's not all to my benefit, is it? You're hoping to learn more from all these experiments you're running on me."

He pivoted sharply, arms folded, eyes wide. "It's not like that, Jin. I want to save your life."

I shrugged. "It's fine, it's smart, it makes sense. And, if you manage to keep me out of the coffin, you won't have to worry about money anymore. I'll make sure you get whatever you need for your research. I wouldn't want anyone else going through this." Never hurts to give someone an extra incentive to save your hide.

"I'm just happy you're not refusing to let me touch you. Since you know what happened with my friend," he said.

"Sounds like that genuinely wasn't your fault. No accounting for a client's wishes. I've had my customers kill themselves playing poker before. It can happen. I guess the courts call that negligence, but it's not like you don't have the right medical skills. I assume you've gotten better since then, too."

"I can honestly say I'm the best that I know, so, yeah."

"Good. Then there's no problem. Now you just have to try and keep my death off your conscience." I had some bodies on my own conscience, and being back in Korea was making it hard to forget what happened. I could relate to Royce's problem that way. Dead bodies have this way of haunting you for a long time.

He put a hand on my elbow. "In the interest of that goal, let's get you back to bed."

I nodded and let him lead me back to the big round mattress. When I lay down, the sheets were slightly softer than the comforter, so that was a bonus. Hopefully cleaner, too. That was important in this type of establishment.

Royce pulled out his medical kit again and started drawing up medications in syringes.

"Do I really need more injections?" I said.

"Yup. Trust me, it's worth it. You'll wake up feeling a million times better, I can almost guarantee it. I'm going to add a strong muscle relaxer too, make sure everything stays loose. Since you've been in so much pain, you're probably accidentally holding all your muscles really tight."

"I hope Gavin comes back soon. I don't like being separated for this long. Hopefully he doesn't have any trouble sneaking up here. That desk clerk was on to us."

"I told him to dress up as stripper, but he wasn't into it."

I clucked my tongue. "Don't be an asshole."

"It hasn't been that long. I'm sure he's fine," he said. "After I give you these meds, I'll go downstairs and try to round up some ice. And some food. I'm hungry, and I'm sure you'll be starving when you wake up."

So far I hadn't been very hungry—Royce had said it was because of all the drugs, but I probably needed some solid food in my system in the near future.

I nodded. "Royce," I said.

"Yeah?"

"Just do me a favor."

"What?" he said.

"Take a damned shower before you get into bed."
Chapter Fifteen

I woke up half expecting Royce to be spooning with me, but the bed was empty.

Strange.

Still dark. Royce was wrong about the long sleep. A clock glowed next to me on the nightstand.

7pm. The next day.

Never mind. I'd slept for over twenty-four hours. Royce knew his drugs.

Rolling over, I was supremely happy that he was right about right—I felt way better. Sore, yes, but bearable. Like I actually stretched without wanting to cut my arms off.

Also handy for turning on the lights. I reached over and flicked a lamp switch, but there was no sign of anyone.

Where were they?

"Royce? Gavin?" I called out.

Nothing. No one in the bathroom.

I didn't want to overreact. For all I knew, Gavin was still dealing with logistics, and Royce was just downstairs getting a snack.

Then I was torn by two very different emotions—fear and excitement. I was worried something might have happened to them.

And I was also excited that this could be my chance. Without either of them watching over me, I could go out into the city, taste all the wonderful things the night had to offer me.

I nearly flushed with guilt. Their safety was more important.

Carefully, I stood up and worked the kinks out of my muscles, gingerly testing my ankles. Not bad. They were far less swollen and blotchy, and I wondered if I'd been so knocked out that I didn't wake up when Royce iced them.

I looked around, searching for clues. Royce's medical bag was open on the ground, a few shirts and some socks strewn around the carpet. That didn't mean anything in and of itself. Royce wasn't exactly orderly.

Down by the door, I spotted a white square of paper. A note? Not that Royce was the courteous type, but Gavin knew how I hated to be out of the loop. He might have left a message for me, just so I wouldn't wake up and worry.

I picked up the paper and unfolded it.

In English, it just said one word: WONDERLAND. Oh, crap.

We were in trouble.

***

I put myself together as fast as I could—the prosthetic mask was actually helpful that way. It was easy to put on, and I didn't have to bother fixing my makeup. My hair was a little messy, but it couldn't be helped, and I threw on the same vomitacious pink Lolita nightmare of a dress. No time to rummage through the bags for my other stuff, and everything else I had was just as bad, anyway.

Gavin and Royce could have been taken by anyone—a local gang, by the Chaebol, by random thugs. It seemed unlikely that someone could get the drop on Gavin, but he'd been under a lot of pressure, and probably sleep deprived. Because of me, he was compromised, and that might have been his downfall.

If anything happened to him, I'd never forgive myself. That was one death that I might actually kill myself over, for penance. Some things you just can't live through.

Slow down. I was getting ahead of myself, jumping to the worst conclusions. It might be nothing, it might be a joke. Plenty of other possibilities.

No need to panic. Right?

Down in the lobby, the front desk was unmanned. Just as well. I was rattled, and there was a good chance someone would notice. No reason to arouse more suspicion than I already had with my accent.

My accent.

Drat.

That might have done it. It was that kind of town—that's why I was so curious about exploring. I wanted to know what was brewing underground.

I fled to the streets, and green light reflected on my skin. Big tubes of neon ran around the building and bright little flower shapes decorated the walls in between the glowing lines. It was supposed to look fancy, but the conflicting primary colors just made it look that much more trashy.

My kind of decorations, when I was in the mood, but there was no time to appreciate the architecture. I had to find the guys.

Adjacent to the hotel, a particularly grimy bar teemed with patrons. Seemed like a good place to start, but damn if I wasn't dressed incorrectly. I was in no mood for smacking away lecherous men, and this outfit was a sticky flytrap for groping hands, but it couldn't be helped.

I stood up tall and put my shoulders back, ready to do business. I knew how to manage these types of crowds, girly dress or not, and I'd find the information I needed.

As soon as I stepped inside, my nose filled with all the scents of an old Korean bar—stale beer, pungent soju, fried foods, sweat. The air conditioning wasn't great, and all those smells mixed with the strong humidity. The loud crowd didn't seem deterred by the heat.

Not a bad place, all in all. I could get into it. If I took over the place, I would have done a few things different with the décor, done a little scrubbing here and there. I swear, just because something is low-rent doesn't mean it has to be dirty. If I had more time, I would have asked around, tried to get a bead on who was running games out of here, because I knew they had to be happening.

But I was on a mission.

I strode right up to the bar, ignoring all the looks and suggestive comments. I felt like a big piece of bait in a very full fishpond, but that could work to my advantage.

The bartender slid over to me like a magnet. "How can I help you?" he said in Korean. At least he still thought I was Korean. In the Lolita getup, I thought he might mistake me for being Japanese. My Japanese wasn't great, and I didn't feel like trying to play that game tonight. Hard enough just trying to pull off being Korean.

"First, I need a bottle of soju," I said. No one would take me seriously if I didn't have a drink. Plus, soju sounded excellent.

He was fairly handsome—tall, glossy black hair that swept down across his forehead, like a young boy band member. He plunked down a green bottle of soju and a small glass.

I didn't bother with the glass and just chugged from the bottle.

Having Royce missing did have its advantages.

The bartender looked at me with a certain amount of curiosity and respect. Slurping soju from the bottle wasn't polite, but this didn't look like the kind of place that cared.

Liquor in my veins.

Neon in my eyes.

A questionable bar that I knew was hiding some secrets.

If our lives weren't in danger, it could have been the beginning to an amazing night.

I swallowed the last sip of soju, banged the bottle down on the bar, and pulled the note out of my pocket. With the bartender still watching me, I wiggled the paper in the air.

"I need some information," I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "What do you need?" he said like it wasn't really an odd request to get around here.

I unfolded the note and slid it across the bar.

His eyes got bigger.

Jackpot.

"Where did you get that?" he said.

I folded the paper again and held it in my palm.

"What is it?" I said, smart enough to not say the name out loud.

"You don't know?" he said. I guess if you got a piece of paper like that, you should already know what you were dealing with.

"Not a clue, buddy. I'm going to need your help."

"Why did you come here?" he said.

"Lucky guess."

"Just a minute," he said, clearly nervous. He knocked over a stack of soju bottles, not bothering to pick them up before trotting into the back.

Still a little groggy, I tried to stay on high alert. If this was the wrong place to ask about the note, things were about to get really hairy. And I didn't have Gavin to run security for me.

Gavin. Still hard to believe that someone had gotten the best of him. Unless he was grossly outnumbered, Gavin should have come out on top in nearly any fight. He's good. He's ruthless, but someone might have had been able to overpower him.

And if that was true, they were dangerous people indeed.

The bartender came back a minute later, flushed, twitchy. "You. You have to come with me."

I crossed my arms. "I don't have to do anything." I shook the note. "Are you going to take me here?"

"Please follow me. Quietly."

Which meant that someone was threatening him. If I didn't follow him, he was in for a world of pain.

Fortunately for him, that's exactly where I wanted to go.

Down the rabbit hole.

***

Down in a tunnel, not unlike the Undergrid part of Pasadena, I followed the nervous bartender through a maze of passages. But unlike the Pasadena Undergrid, this place wasn't dim at all. Every single tunnel was a blazing crime scene of neon abuse. Wall to wall with glowing tubes and gratuitous designs—hearts, stars, flowers, words written in Hangul—the neon mess littered the passageways.

And it was totally amazing. If I had to live in a godforsaken tunnel, this wouldn't be a bad way to go about it.

We must have walked the equivalent of several city blocks, and my ankles were not happy about that, but I couldn't let it show. No limping. I was about walk into a den of trouble, and that wouldn't do. Time to suck it up and hope the last dregs of the narcotics held out long enough to rescue Royce and Gavin.

We finally came to a door, but unlike the entrance to Caramel and Gideon's lair, it was just your average wooden door. Slightly worn, not fortified.

That meant they weren't worried about invasions. At all.

Come right in.

Caveat emptor.

I liked that audacity.

Over the door, in English it said:

WONDERLAND.

Before my skittish guide could knock on the door or signal someone on the other side, I tapped him on the shoulder.

"Can you tell me who I'm meeting? A name?"

He stared at me. "You really don't know?"

"Do I look like I'm clued in here?"

Eyes big, hands twitching, he said, "Alice. Alice is waiting for you."

Curiouser and curiouser.
Chapter Sixteen

When the door opened, I almost started drooling.

Wonderland was an accurate name.

I stood inside a huge, brightly lit underground pit, strung with more glowing light strips and free-standing sculptures—palm trees, stars, flamingos, dice, martini glasses—all made out of twisted, pulsing neon.

Like the graveyard of Las Vegas.

And it was loud. People jammed the floor, wall to wall. A busy bar in the corner slung drinks while noisy tables threw dice and tossed cards and Mahjong tiles. Chips, cash, booze, lights—it all blended together and tingled up my spine. I'm sure my eyes looked just like a slot machine, spinning, full of excitement.

The speakeasy vibe—I dug it. Big time. Wonder if Caramel and Gideon would be interested in a little literal underground gaming.

I shook my head. As much as I wanted to jump right into the scene, there was a much more important reason for me to be there.

Also, subtlety wasn't my strong suit.

And no one messes with my crew.

I stuck my fingers in my mouth and made a high-pitched whistle that cut through the ruckus.

The room shuddered to a halt, leaving only the sound of drinks splashing and cards falling.

"Thank you for your attention. I'm looking for Alice," I said.

The crowd parted, flowing around the big, glossy wooden bar. Standing in the center, a tall woman dragged a black disc over her hair, and the strands changed colors, moving from a plain dark brown to a vibrant mermaid ombre of turquoise, blond, and violet. Magnetic color.

Nifty.

When her long hair was completely colored, she picked up a tube of lipstick and slowly spread bright pink across her mouth.

She puckered once. Perfect application.

Then she stood up straight.

Wearing a black bikini bottom with a long white t-shirt that stopped short of her crotch, high-heeled boots, and some truly fantastic chain-link nylons, she would have been at home in any of my many fine clubs.

Or my bedroom.

I'd pay a lot for those legs.

Chin up, hands on hips, she sipped a cocktail. "I'm Alice. Took you long enough," she said. "Welcome to Wonderland."

I took a quick survey of the room. Tense. Probably weapons everywhere, but likely no guns. Korea was even more locked down on the gun control front than L.A. Still, I couldn't bank on it, and even though I was fast enough to dodge a bullet, it's not a safe game to play. Just a millimeter off, and there'd be scars, like the one in my calf.

We stood there, sizing each other up. I was clearly at a disadvantage, but that's how I'd lived half my life. I wouldn't let that intimidate me. I stared at her like I owned the place, and she huffed, lifting her chin even higher.

"Well, aren't you a little ball of candy-coated spunk."

Right. My outfit. So unfortunate. But, as much stock as I put into clothing, real power comes from within. Chewed up or not, I was still Hyojin Song.

And I knew how to play the game.

"Appearances are deceiving," I said.

She curled a finger at me. "Come closer."

I cocked my head, considering. I flexed my hands a few times, testing my speed. Don't get closer than you can safely move out of a knife's range. My speed seemed intact, and I was pumped to go nose to nose with this lion.

Ready to see who was king of the jungle.

I sauntered up to the bar, gliding right into the empty space left by her agitated customers and henchmen.

She smiled at me, her bright lips curling up in one corner, face pale, heavy cat-eye liner making her eyes look preternatural.

"You brought me here. What do you want, and where are my friends?"

She leaned against the bar, took another sip of a dark liquid—probably whisky. Unusual choice for this area.

"So hasty. You're used to getting what you want, when you want it, aren't you?"

"As it should be," I said. I smiled, let it fill my eyes. She was taller than me, her clothes looked better, and I was on her turf, but that didn't mean anything.

I wouldn't roll over for anyone.

"In that case, can I get you a drink?" she said.

"Absolutely," I said. "Gin martini. Dirty—make it filthy." No use keeping up pretenses. She already knew I wasn't a local.

She nodded her head at the bartender, and started shaking something up. A second later, he pushed it towards me.

I picked up the chilled glass and took a sniff. "You wouldn't be cheap enough to drug my drink, would you?"

She laughed. "If I had wanted to drug you, I could have kidnapped you a day ago, while you were already passed out in my hotel room."

Her hotel room? I peered at her, trying to see beyond the makeup and the hair and the risqué clothes. She watched me puzzling it through, waiting for it to click.

Didn't take me long.

The front desk clerk. It was her.

Damn. I knew we'd been clocked, but how was I supposed to know that the clerk was some queen of the Mokpo underworld?

"You never introduced yourself," she said.

"You took down my information. You scanned me. You ran my profile." I took my first sip of the martini. It was good.

"Oh, but we know that profile was a total fake. As soon as you opened your mouth, I knew," she said.

I huffed, and switched to English. "Not into my accent, eh?"

"You're mistaken. I find it delightful. It's your lies that I don't find pleasing," she responded in English—it was pretty good too. No doubt she'd spent time abroad, or at some very expensive schools.

I switched back to Korean for a second. "I don't know why my identity is any of your business. We were just passing through."

Probably without thinking about it, she answered in Korean again. "This is my territory. My business. I don't appreciate rivals sneaking into my territory without permission. Very rude."

"You're from the islands. Jeju," I said. On the coast of the province was a network of islands, Jeju being one of the most popular for vacation spots. Nice enough for a weekend trip, but people from the islands had a reputation for being wilder, more straightforward than mainlanders. And they had a very specific way of talking.

I wasn't the only one with an accent.

"They call me Alice the mermaid. I come from a long line of divers."

"You're a little far inland," I said.

She held up her hands. "Still swimming in the deep."

I couldn't help but laugh. In English again, I said, "Nice. I like your style."

The martini was great. Her legs were great. The lair was great. Too easy to get lulled into her spell. Five minutes down the rabbit hole, and I was ready to stay for the ride.

"Where are we?" I said. "Is this the Undergrid?"

She shook her head. "No. This is just my own private tunnel."

I pointed to the ceiling. "What's up there?"

"A hagwon," she said.

I laughed. A cram school, a place for pressured Korean youth to spend their after school hours tirelessly studying for exams. Cruel irony that such debauchery was happening right beneath their feet.

And it was exactly the sort of thing I'd been trying to start in high school when I'd gotten arrested for running a gambling ring. I just hadn't had the whole tunnel thing worked out yet. Lesson learned. Sort of.

"I like your style," I said. "That being said, I'm not here to threaten your territory. I'd love to stay and sample your games, but I cannot. I just need my friends back, and we'll be on our way."

She clucked her tongue. "First, I need to know who you are. Sorry, my dear. You can't just walk into Wonderland and walk right back out. There are prices to be paid." She leaned over the bar to grab a lime wedge, her shirt and bikini bottom rising up, showing me more bits of her flesh. Her long aqua hair trailed along the bottom of her ass.

"I can't tell you that. What else do you want," I said.

She squeezed the lime into her glass. I may have been mistaken—perhaps it was rum. Made sense for a mermaid pirate, but I wasn't in the mood for swashbuckling.

"This is non-negotiable. It's a simple request," she said.

I'd been distracted by all the glorious temptations in Wonderland, but arguing with her brought other things back into my consciousness. Like the fact that my ankles were hurting again, and moving my arms still pinched my collarbones. And none of that could show in my expression. I needed the perfect poker face.

I took another slug of my drink. "Before I tell you anything else, I need two things. I need to see my friends. I need to know that they're alive and unharmed. And, I need for you to tell me why you didn't kill me when I was in the hotel room."

"You should be thankful that I didn't, but I had my reasons. For one, carrying unconscious women through the hotel doesn't look very good. We try to keep a low profile. Plus, you're obviously sick, and killing the weak part feels like foul play to me. I prefer fair fights. Judging from the shape you were in, you might have taken care of yourself anyway, if you know what I mean."

My cheeks flushed, I knew it, and I wasn't happy about it. We were still talking in English, and I hoped that few or none of her henchmen spoke it. Having people know I was sick put me at a distinct disadvantage. "How kind of you," I managed to get out between clenched teeth.

"And, I was curious. I might have let you go anyway, but then I caught your friend snooping around my town, putting his nose places it didn't belong. I couldn't let that go. When I brought him in, he wouldn't talk. I thought you might be a little more forthcoming," she said.

Gavin. So she had caught him. "How did you do it?"

She smirked, crossed her long legs, white thighs rubbing together. They looked soft. "Your little guy got hungry. Came over for a bite to eat," she said.

Fury sang through my body. Drugging Gavin just for being in the wrong place, while he was tired and probably starving. My instinct to question the drinks was accurate, but that didn't make it better.

"Is he. Unharmed," I said.

"He'll be fine," she said.

"I said. Is he unharmed?"

She cleared her throat, finished off her drink with a big swig. "Look, I still don't know who you are, but I get the feeling you wouldn't let strangers traipse all over your turf, wherever that is," she said. "You do have turf, don't you? Where is it?"

"You can know all about me once I see my friends, I know they're all alive, and you guarantee our safety. I want nothing more than to find my people and get the hell out of Mokpo," I said, but I think we both knew that was a lie. I could taste my own deception.

But it was only because I wanted to stay in Wonderland, snoop through all the side rooms, see what kind of games, what kind of odds she was running, what kind of cash was flowing through this place.

And how much of that could be mine.

"You're hungry." She licked her lips. "And I like that. Very well. Follow me, and you can see your friends. But keep this in mind. I know you came here alone, and I know that you're injured. Wonderland is indeed wonderful, but it's also mine. No one leaves until I say so."

I should have been mad. I should have been furious, but I appreciated a strong business owner. I also appreciated sexy business owners, and I'll be damned if her perfect ass wasn't hanging right out of her tiny black bottoms. The long white t-shirt covered her chest, and I couldn't help but wonder what she was leaving to the imagination.

I put up my hands. "You've got nothing to fear—like you said, it's just me. You know I'm unarmed, I didn't trip any scanners, and my only crew members are supposedly back there in your lair. If you have any decency, you'll just let us go peacefully."

She looked at me, like I had to be hiding something, but she couldn't think of what that might be. I'd passed through all the scanners here and back at the hotel. "You can count on me to play a fair game, always," she said.

"Is that what you call drugging a weary traveler's food?"

She winked. "Follow me," she said, and stalked forward on her spiked heels.

I could rock a nice heel myself, but those were some truly impressive shoes. Meanwhile, I was wearing clunky Mary Janes. Not sure why I had to use Caramel's hideous shoe collection too—what, was someone going to identify me using my impeccable taste in shoes? Or from the particular shape of my pinky toes?

Disturbing as it was, that wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, but like Caramel's desire to change my hair color, I couldn't be certain whether the shoes actually had a purpose, or if it was just a part of Caramel's gleeful desire to dress me up like another living doll.

I thought I had a certain pizzazz to my usual stride, but in the ungraceful shoes, and with my shredded anklebones, it was all I could do to walk across the uneven flooring without falling on my face. So much for my usual power walk. I'm petite as it is, and behind Alice's long, stylish legs, I looked like a newborn foal stumbling awkwardly along behind her.

Not ideal.

We left the gambling area and entered the entertainment zone. Women. Plenty of them, dancing on platforms and swirling around seated patrons. Nice selection. I like a good variety. Something for everyone. Alice made some good hiring choices. Savvy woman.

At the back of the room, I spotted plush chairs pushed into the corner, strippers gyrating around whoever was sitting in them. VIP area. Off to the side, I spotted Alice's thugs, standing still, their backs to the wall, guarding the action. She protected her investments.

I was admiring her selection of women when I finally caught a glimpse of the VIPs in the chairs.

Not VIPs at all.

Gavin and Royce.

Something in me boiled over. Royce looked okay, but Gavin's face was bruised, blood pooled at the corner of his lip, and although conscious, he was out of it. Stunned, or maybe drugged, his eyes were half open and dreamy. Not the Gavin I as used to.

I wouldn't stand for that. All of the pain in my body faded away over the roaring blood in my ears, the ring of electricity twinkling up my legs and into my arms.

Faster than anyone could track, I dashed forward, snagging a huge blade from one of the enforcers. No one moved, not realizing what was happening.

Quickly, I cut Royce and Gavin free, then went for the shortest thug, wrapping my arm around his thick neck. I dragged him behind Royce and Gavin, putting the knife to his throat as I hugged the wall for cover.

Royce shot up first and hoisted Gavin to his feet, joining me against the back wall.

The enforcer struggled in my grasp, but I hugged him tight and dug the blade into his neck until he gasped. A trickle of blood went down his neck and hit my finger.

Gross. I can throw down if I have to, but I'm so not into blood.

Everyone else sprang into action, catching up with what was happening, but way too late.

Weapons were drawn, and her enforcers grunted in anger, super pissed that I got the jump on them.

"Don't move, or your buddy gets it," I said. See, I could go full gangster if I had to.

"Stop," Alice said. "Everyone just calm down."

She shoved two goons aside and sauntered into the center of the mob, dead in front of me. In the brighter room, I noticed she had contacts or some kind of implants—her eyes shimmered an unnatural blue, softly shifting shades in the light, matching her hair.

She looked totally relaxed, unworried, like this sort of thing happened all the time, and there was no doubt who would win. Okay, so I was locked into a tunnel, in a strange town, surrounded by a clump of armed gangsters. I can see why she thought she had the advantage.

Well, she was wrong. I'm not a violent person, but no one fucks with my people. Mess with Gavin or my dog, and you were asking for it.

"That's a little hasty, don't you think?" she purred, like we were alone in a bedroom instead being on the precipice of a wild bar fight. Good technique. She almost had me distracted. She was hot, and she knew it. I bet she'd gotten the drop on more than one person that way before, but I wouldn't fall for it.

"I don't like getting my hands dirty, but you're the one abusing my guys. We've done nothing to deserve this," I said.

"You're a Circuit Breaker," she said.

I shook my head. "No. Well, kind of. Not really. It's complicated."

"You've got some kind of heavy duty augments. You're fast— never seen anything like that," she said.

Damn, I really didn't like other people knowing about my special little skills, but that was unavoidable. "Long story," I said.

"I'd love to hear it. Entertain me while we work through this impasse."

The guy in my arms wriggled and I hissed in his ear. "Don't move. I'll slice your throat just to send a message."

I looked over at Royce, and he was a little dazed too. Had to be drugged, but he was so big he was probably overcoming the dose faster than they bargained for. Gavin had a much lighter frame, drugs would stay around longer.

"Are you guys okay?" I said.

Royce stared at me like I was an alien. Guess he didn't think I had it in me. News flash, I grew up on the streets. I can throw down. I just preferred not to.

"Royce? Talk to me here," I said. "What's going on with Gavin?"

Royce was still holding onto Gavin, keeping him upright, but they were both swaying a little, like they were drunk.

"I'm alright. Drugged me with something. Good stuff, really. Gavin. Not sure. Hands tied up—couldn't examine him. Think he's okay, just bruised," he said.

I stared right at Alice. "He better be okay. Or I have absolutely no problem with eye for an eye."

Alice held up her hands. "Hey, we didn't mean to hurt your buddy, but when he woke up he beat the hell out of a few of my guys, even while he was still half-drugged. One of them is still in the hospital. Bad stab wound. So if you're talking eye for an eye, you're starting out in the red."

I couldn't help smiling. Of course Gavin wouldn't go down without a fight. "That sounds like self defense to me. You can't capture a trained assassin and expect them to not react."

"So now you're assassins? I thought you were just mild-mannered travelers," she said.

Poor choice of words on my part. "Not exactly what I meant." I pointed at Gavin. "He's my security guy. Doesn't mess around."

"So I learned," she said. "Well then, we're at a bit of an impasse here. Now I definitely can't just let you go, but I'd hate to lose my friend Dong-su over there."

"Trust me. Don't make us fight our way out of here. I'm faster than anyone in this room. I'll slit three throats before you can blink."

Not to mention what Gavin would do. He was woozy, but coming around. Once he woke up, whatever he did before would look like child's play. We were getting out of here one way or another.

Alice shifted, biting a long red nail. "Look. I'm asking you a very simple thing. I'm sorry for drugging your buddies, but you came sailing into my turf unannounced. Judging from how you roll, you should know better than to come in here without checking out the scene first," she said.

That was accurate. "Fair enough. We were on a tight schedule, you could say. Not a lot of time to investigate the local culture. We literally are just trying to pass through. That's it."

"Your tags are fake, but your two friends here are rolling natural. The one that likes knives, he works for Song Entertainment Industries. Is that who sent you? You here to spy on our operation? Maybe stage a little takeover?" she said. "Because I'll tell you this—Wonderland is not for sale. SEI might be a big name, but we're not interested, no matter how much cash they throw at us. Tell me. Is that who sent you? Are you SEI's goons?"

Ah crap, we hadn't banked on being anywhere public long enough to get pegged through Gavin. Doing surgery on him too would have been too risky. Good thing she'd stuck to using English this whole time—there was a chance that most of the crowd didn't understand what we were saying.

Then ego got the better of me. I laughed, and it went on a little bit longer than I intended. I don't think Dong-su appreciated it—the knife moved and more blood dripped onto my hand. Oops. Also, eww. Better knock that off.

"I am SEI. I'm Hyojin Song. That's my operation."

Her eyes got huge, and a sick tingle of satisfaction went through my chest. That's right. Even over here, halfway across the world, my empire was famous. I'd built something truly extraordinary, and these people way out in the middle of nowhere thought I was a threat.

Most excellent.

I mean, in the moment, it was inconvenient, but I couldn't squelch that thrill of recognition.

"Finally, an answer to my question— now I understand why you didn't want anyone to know your identity. As I understand it, there's a warrant out for your arrest," she said. "You must have swapped marrow tags. That had to hurt."

I swallowed. "How did you know that?"

"Oh, it's common knowledge around here, in these circles. We all know about your big casino kingdom. We know you'd come back here and start throwing up new joints if you had your way. That warrant complicates things. And yet, here you are. This vast, untapped land of gamers was just too much to resist, wasn't it?"

She wasn't wrong, exactly, but no amount of money would have made me willingly let Royce pry open my chest. Although now that I was here, it would have been a real temptation. I just had bigger problems to deal with.

Like potential sudden death.

"Clear us a path, and we'll be on our way, out of Mokpo by daybreak," I said.

She smirked. "Now that you're here, you should stay awhile. Talk some shop."

I couldn't get a read on her. Was she serious? I was still holding her guy at knife point. And it was getting majorly awkward.

I nodded at Dong-su. "Give me your word that you'll let us go, and I'll spare your guy," I said in Korean. I wanted them all to hear this.

Alice fluffed her colorful hair and bit a nail playfully, like she was thinking. "Sure. You confessed your real identity. That's what I needed to know. Let him go, and you can have safe passage back to the surface."

Ha. The specific wording wasn't lost on me, but it was reasonable. She would only promise things moment by moment. Getting to the surface was as good of a promise as I could have expected.

"Your word?" I said. I needed to hear it, and her staff needed to hear it.

"My word," she said.

I nodded and whispered to Dong-su, "Go join your buddies. If you try anything, I'll make sure this blade makes it all the way through your windpipe."

He trembled in my arms, and I took that as agreement. "Good. Go," I said.

I shook his blood off my fingertips and breathed an accidental sigh of relief as he scurried from my arms. He hid behind the rest of Alice's security squad, trying to resume a tough pose and failing. Couldn't blame him. I really would have killed him, and he probably sensed that. It's an unnerving feeling, to be in the clutches of someone you knew would end your life.

And I knew Alice was in that same category. Beautiful? Yes. Deadly? Definitely. She'd take us out if she had to. Personally. That turned me on more than I liked to admit.

Royce shifted next to me, and with his free hand, he slapped a hand between my shoulder blades. "You okay?" he said. His speech was still slow, a little slurred.

I almost wished he hadn't asked that. The adrenaline was still there, but underneath it, I knew things hurt—needed to ignore my body for as long as possible.

"Just dandy," I said.

Gavin stirred, and I tried not to look at his face. The bruises on his cheekbones made me regret my promise about not killing anyone.

With the henchman out of my arms, I refocused on the crowd, scanning quickly, taking in everything, grateful the mesh was still functioning. They already knew about my augments, so I could let my eyes and head move freely, at whatever speed I wanted. The strippers had all gathered in a back corner, a fleshy huddle that was concerned, but not frightened. Probably saw this kind of thing often, knew to stay out of the way and let Alice handle things.

The rest of Alice's enforcers stood tensely. I saw it in the tiny twitches of their fingers, the little trembles of their feet: they were scared. Scared of me. There were certain advantages to giving myself over to the mesh.

Knowing they were all watching me, afraid, gave me another boost—not quite as good as winning a big hand of poker, but there was something exhilarating about letting my wild side out to play. A weird part of me hoped Alice would violate her agreement, give me another reason to cut loose, juice out a little more adrenaline.

Alice stood tall, confident, but something was wrong. I might have missed it, if I hadn't let myself go into total speed mode, but with a few clicks around her body, scanning her movements, it was there, clear as day.

She was sick too.

A little tick at the corner of her eye, a twitch in her fingers, blue tinge in her face.

Something was rotten in Wonderland.

"Incredible," Alice said. "Whatever your augments are, I want them."

"No. No you do not want them. I promise you this," I said.

I wished Royce wasn't still trying to muscle through all those drugs. He should have been watching this. Something was definitely wrong with her.

"I don't know, they seem pretty extraordinary. Your eyes are moving so fast, I almost can't see them," she said.

"Alice. I don't mean to be rude, but are you okay?" We were still talking in English. Maybe that would help her save face.

She hesitated, and I couldn't tell if she was debating whether to tell me something, or just realizing something was wrong herself. I may have caught it before she did.

"Did you scan me? What do you know?" she said, suddenly paranoid.

I'd hit some kind of nerve. I could understand that. I had secrets I didn't want spilled across the underworld too.

I shook my head. "I had no idea who you were until you kidnapped my friends. I still don't know anything about you. I'm just using my two eyes. You're not getting enough oxygen, are you?"

She took a deep breath. Very deep, like she was trying not to pant or gasp.

"Look. I'm not trying to pull anything. I have bigger concerns right now. And, I can respect you as another female territory boss. It's not an easy job," I said. "I have certain augments, and I can see that you're having a hard time. My friend is a doctor. He's still stoned as hell, thanks to you, but he's excellent. He could help you."

I elbowed Royce.

"What?" he said.

"Did you hear anything that I just said?"

He glared at me. "Yeah. I heard it. In Korean. How many times do I have to say that I don't speak Korean?"

Oh. I was losing track of my languages. It was distracting when someone could switch between the two as easily as I could. Gavin and I did that sometimes, but it didn't usually happen with strangers.

"Sorry. Look at Alice. Something's wrong," I said.

"Don't you have enough problems without trying to fix your enemy's?" he said.

I resisted the urge to poke his ribs. He might drop Gavin. "She's not our enemy. We just invaded her territory on accident, that's all. Look at her."

Now it didn't take superhuman powers to notice that something wasn't right. Alice was hunched over, forearms on her thighs, breathing too fast.

Crap. This wasn't good for us either. With Alice dead, her thugs might not be so faithful about following her orders to let us go.

In Korean, I said to them, "Your leader needs help. My friend is a doctor. Let us help her, or you'll watch her die. Your choice. Everyone step back to the walls, or we'll let her suffocate."

"Do. What. She. Says," Alice said, getting paler every second.

Once Alice said it, they all moved instantly, rushing back to the opposite wall so that the far end of the room was filled with thugs and strippers. Not a bad mix, if you asked me.

"Royce. Put Gavin down and go help Alice," I said.

"Are you serious?" he said.

"I'll watch him. Go help her."

He was still trying to get a grip on things, but he brought Gavin back to the chairs and set him down gently. I wanted to run over there and wrap my arms around him, tell him how happy I was he was alive, but this wasn't the place. We had the upper hand, but this was still a nightmare scenario waiting to happen.

Royce shambled over to Alice who had sunk even lower, her head between her knees, struggling to stay upright. I knew that feeling all too well. I watched him trying to pull it together, overcome the influence of those sedatives. Even if he didn't really care about helping her, his doctor instincts were kicking in, like he couldn't help but come to her rescue.

"Do you have any known medical conditions? Do you have a heart problem? Are you pregnant? Do you have any implants?" he said.

"Yes," Alice said.

"You might want to ask those questions one at a time," I said. I'm so helpful.

"You're hypoxic," he said to her. "Lay down."

Alice just stood there, breathing shallowly.

Royce rolled his eyes and picked her up, wobbling a little bit before he put her on the ground.

"I don't know why I'm constantly dealing with stubborn women with bad implants," he said.

"Stubborn people. No need to be sexist," I said. "You think she has a bad implant?"

He seemed to be waking up more as his own adrenaline surged, responding to a familiar situation.

"That's what she said, I think. This would be the right crowd for that sort of thing. If nothing else, she has corneal augments, but that wouldn't be causing this," he said. "Alice. I don't have any equipment with me. If you have any bad implants, I need you to tell me what they are."

Her face was inching closer to the shade of her hair. Good color for hair, bad for skin.

"Heart. Bad heart," she said.

"Fuck," he said and turned to me. "I've been rejoicing that you don't have any heart problems. Guess it's my lucky day."

Lucky for me too. As far as I knew, my heart was mesh-free and A-OK.

Alice was totally out of it now, and I thought she might respond better in Korean, so I asked, "Do you have a bad implant? We need to know. It will change how we help you. Tell me what it is. I swear, I'll keep it secret. I have a similar problem. Just tell me so we can help you."

Her eyes closed, lips getting more pale. "Yes. Heart implant," she said in Korean.

"It's a bad implant, isn't it?" he said. "I don't need to speak Korean to understand that intonation. Her symptoms fit too."

"Can you help her?"

Royce felt around in his back pocket and pulled tiny two syringes. "Either they were super confident in the sedative they gave me, or they're just stupid, but they didn't confiscate these babies. I've been keeping them on hand for you. There's more back at the hotel, but we might not get back there in time if you have an episode too. Do you want me to use them on her?"

I nodded. "Do it."

"I always thought you were a master tactician. Now I'm not sure," he said.

"I'm a human being," I said. "Give her the drugs."

Royce looked between me, Alice, and her staff. They were looking at us, hungry for some blood. "Better hope we get out of here before you have another mesh episode. These syringes are the only thing that might save you," he said.

Yikes. Scary, but Alice seemed like a worthwhile investment to roll the dice on. "Give it to her before it's too late," I said.

He pulled the cap off the first syringe, tapping out the air bubbles with a few flicks. "Okay," he said. "It's literally your funeral."

Chapter Seventeen

You know what's not a good idea? Putting someone in a headlock when both of your collarbones have been lasered in half. And yet, that's what I'd done. Now for some reason I was in horrible pain. Go figure.

Of all the ways I thought this night might turn out, this wasn't one of them, but we couldn't just let Alice die. Okay, we could have, but once you save someone's life, traditionally they owed you. And we needed allies on this side of the pond.

"Let's move her. Can you ask them if there are any beds down here? I have a feeling there might be some private chambers, if you know what I mean," Royce said.

If there wasn't, Alice and I needed to have a talk about her business model. In Korean, I asked the crowd where the bedrooms were.

A few of them pointed behind us, around the corner through another passage.

"Is anyone in there right now?" I asked.

They all looked at each other, different colors of neon reflecting off their faces. The festive atmosphere was awkward with all of the doom and gloom happening with Alice.

Some of them shook their heads. Good. Unoccupied.

"Okay, I got that. Let's move her back there. Tell them not to follow us," Royce said. "Can you help Gavin, or are you in too much pain?"

I felt such a strong stab of gratitude towards Royce that it took me by surprise. I hadn't even said anything about how uncomfortable I was after that little show of force, but he knew that it had to be brutal.

"I can do it," I said. I didn't care if my arms were literally falling off—I wouldn't leave Gavin behind for any reason.

To the crowd I said, "Don't follow us. If I'd wanted to kill her, or any of you, I could have done it already. I promise, we'll do everything we can. Give us space."

"What did you say?" Royce said.

"I told them to stay the hell back so you can do your job."

"Thanks. I find it hard to concentrate when there are knives poking at my kidneys."

A little wobbly, but he scooped up Alice in his arms like she weighed nothing. All that burly strength was useful in his line of work. I was fast, but I wasn't all that strong. Why spend time in the gym when you can exercise your forearms on a slot machine?

I put my arm under Gavin's armpits and helped him stand up, trying not to grimace as his weight squashed my collarbones.

"Sorry," he said quietly, his head resting on my shoulder.

"Don't be," I said. "I'm just glad you're okay." He'd literally taken bullets for me before, and this was nothing in comparison.

Royce who shuffled slowly with Alice in his arms, and the two of us limped behind them. We were one sorry looking crew, but everyone was still alive. Just hadn't banked on being kidnapped by an underground gambling ring run by a cyborg mermaid.

I hate it when that happens.

As promised, down the side corridor, there was a network of bedrooms, and we ducked into the first one. Small, but nice, it was decorated all in black velvet and hot pink silk accents. A little over the top, but fitting for its purpose. Décor is important for atmosphere, and good atmosphere means more returning clients. Nice work, Alice.

I wanted her to live, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking of how to take over for business if she croaked.

Royce dropped her on the bed, conscious, but not responsive, her color still bad. Deathly blue, like a baby left in the bathtub for too long.

I eased Gavin into a chair, grateful he was able to walk mostly by himself. His hand snagged on my shoulder, and I bit my lip, trying not to yelp. Even with Alice unconscious, there were probably cameras in here.

Royce pulled off her shirt.

"Dude, what are you doing?" I said. Can't say I didn't appreciate the view—Alice was wearing a lacy black bra that matched her skimpy bottoms, and her tits looked even nicer than I had imagined.

Royce gave me a look. "I don't have a stethoscope," he said.

Partially hidden by her bra, a fat scar ran down the center of her chest.

Royce put his ear to her chest and listened, feeling her wrist at the same time.

"Her rhythm's abnormal, but I don't have any way to shock her if it gets worse. Better hope this works," he said.

"Are you going to give her the other injection?" I said. He'd given her the first one in her arm, back in the main room.

"In a second. The first drug needs to circulate, target her heart. Really, the second one should go right into the heart muscle, but without an ultrasound I could hit a vessel and make it much worse. Not worth the risk. I'll just go through the jugular vein. Can you find me some clear liquor? I need to at least pretend to sterilize her neck before I shove a needle into it."

"Plenty of that," I said and scurried into the other room, bringing back some top shelf vodka. I assumed she'd want the good stuff. I know I would.

Royce took it from my hands and just poured it over her neck, soaking the nice sheets beneath her. Nice thing about vodka—it didn't stain. One of the many things I loved about it.

Alice stirred when all the cold booze hit her skin. Royce put one of his giant hands over cheek and pulled her head to the side, exposing her neck. She squirmed in protest.

"Can you hold her hands for me? Missing a stick in this area would be a bad thing," he said.

Better her than me. I'd had my quota of painful injections for the week.

"Sure," I said, hoping Alice cooperated. Wrestling was not my list of things I wanted to do severed collarbones.

I came to the bed, putting one knee down so that I could hold both of her arms. Put me rather close to her naked midriff, which I didn't mind. She had perfect abs. Went nicely with her very full chest. Too bad she wasn't for sale.

Fortunately, she was weak, and I easily held her down, with only some minor twinges traveling up to my shoulders. Royce stuck the needle into her neck, pulled back until there was a flash of blood, and slowly pushed the contents of the syringe back into the big vein. I shivered, almost feeling it in my own body.

Royce pulled out the needle, holding his thumb over the hole for a few seconds, waiting for it to clot. Small puncture, but that was a big freaking vein. When it wasn't obviously leaking blood, he poured another wash of vodka over her neck.

Alice's eyes fluttered. Royce put his palm on her breastbone, rubbing it in a circular motion. The color slowly returned to her face. He smiled.

It was working.

And I needed to sit the hell down.

In the chair, Gavin was rubbing his face, taking some deep breaths, coming out of the sedative. I stumbled back and sat on the chair arm, taking the pressure off my sore ankles.

Gavin reached up and pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist and laying his head against the back of my neck.

"I may be drugged, but I can still tell you're in pain. Sit for a minute," he said.

I let out a bunch of air I didn't even realize I was holding, releasing some of the tension in my body.

It was good to have people that cared about me. And it was good to have all my people still alive.

"How are we doing over there?" I said to Royce.

"She's perking up," he said. "Can't make a long-term prognosis, but for the moment I think she'll make it."

Which meant we had a better chance of getting out of there unscathed. Alice owed us. Big time.

Alice stirred and sat up, leaning against the pillows. She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, trying to orient herself.

She locked eyes with Royce. "What happened?"

"I'm going to need a more detailed medical history from you, but since that treatment worked, I'm guessing you've got some kind of bad heart implant. And it's probably been failing for some time now," he said.

Well, I definitely knew that feeling. Sucks.

Alice blinked. "Yeah. Something like that."

"You need someone to remove it? What's the deal?" he said.

She turned her head, looked at me and Gavin. "You guys saved me. Didn't have to."

I cleared my throat. "Let's just say that I have sympathy for your condition."

She stared at me, but couldn't seem to form a good response. Just as well. I didn't feel like talking about my own issues.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm sorry for any trouble I've caused you. If you tell me what you're really here for, maybe I could help you."

Alice sat up higher and adjusted her posture against the pillows. She didn't seem to care about being mostly naked—I got the feeling nudity didn't bother her.

"I need details. Medical records. I can help you, but I'm working in the dark here," Royce said.

"I'll be okay," she said. "This will pass. It always does."

Royce crossed his arms. "Look. I don't know how I have yet another case like this one my hands, but I'm telling you. This will not go away on its own. Listening to your heart, even without a stethoscope, I can hear problems. There's something mechanically wrong. What's in there? Valve augment? Blood cell pump? Chamber synths?"

"Yes," she said.

Royce narrowed his eyes. "It's an array. But the heart itself is still natural, isn't it?"

If she wasn't so pale, Alice looked like she might have blushed. "I don't understand all the details, but there's a lot of augments in there. And yes, my heart is real. Who are you?"

"You already know—you ran his tags. That's Dr. Hallett. He's one of the best implant surgeons in the United States."

Royce looked at me. "That's the first time you've ever called me Dr. Hallett in public."

"You earned it," I said.

While Royce was still facing me, Alice sat up and grabbed his face, pulling it close to hers and giving him a long kiss. I thought I saw tongue.

Really?

With Royce?

Gross.

I didn't want to go anywhere he'd already been. Those lips were tainted. Yuck.

Royce was just as surprised, and I was glad I didn't have a clear view of his trousers. He pulled back.

"I'm in your debt for saving me," she said.

He shook his head. "I haven't saved you. Whatever junk is in your chest, it's not stable, by any means. All I did was stave off a rejection. I can't say for sure, but nine times out of ten, those implants have to come out. Otherwise we're in another level of trouble." He looked at me as he finished his sentence.

"Hey, that's not my fault," I said. "I'd get rid of this stuff if I could."

Alice shook her head. "You can't. You'd have to remove my whole heart. Too old. Too much in there."

Royce rolled his eyes. "Great, you guys are quite the pair. Replacing a heart isn't that difficult, you know. That's very old technology. We've been doing that for centuries."

"No no. I've tried. No one will touch it. It's not just my heart. It's everything else," she said.

I had no idea what she was talking about, but it seemed to make sense to Royce.

He nodded. "Your circulatory system can't cope with a natural heart now. It's all adapted. Your veins would collapse."

They locked eyes, and I felt a weird twinge of jealousy. Why would anyone prefer Royce over me? He was big and gross and sweaty. Okay, fine, and he was a brilliant surgeon, but so what?

"Everyone's told me if I remove it, I'll die," she said. "It's a part of me."

Where had I heard that story before?

Gavin's arms tightened around my waist. Alice's parallel story was probably making him remember that I might not live to the end of this journey. This could be Jin's last stand.

"Shit," Royce said. "I don't have time to deal with another one of these cases. Please tell me you have another surgeon helping you."

Alice shook her head. "No. No one in this province will touch it with a ten foot pole, and I can't go to Seoul."

That was weird. "Why can't you go to Seoul?" I said.

"It's a long story," she said, getting more lucid, her color almost normal again. "Let's just say that people up there are looking for me."

Gavin shifted, arms tensing around me.

Royce leaned against the wall beside the bed. "I'd really like a simple case, with a simple backstory. Typical treatment plan. I'm tired of being a maverick."

"You know you love a complicated puzzle. You'd get bored with normal stuff. We aim to please," I said.

"I can't believe this is happening," Royce said. "Fuck my life."

Alice tried to get off the bed, but Royce put a hand on her shoulder and tried to keep her down.

"I'm feeling much better," she said.

"Are you two related or something?" he said, glaring at me.

I shrugged. "Birds of a feather. I really dig your establishment," I said to her.

"Thanks," Alice said. "I'll take that as a true compliment coming from the head of SEI."

I'd like her even more if she wasn't into Royce. Pity.

"You need to stay down. I don't have any equipment, but just looking at your color, your oxygen saturation dipped disastrously low. This is no joke," he said.

We were quite the mess, the lot of us. Drugged, half dead, exhausted, riddled with failing implants.

Alice crossed her legs on the bed and leaned forward. "I've been in this industry a long time. I've had these implants in me a long time. I get the need for secrecy, but it looks like our hands are already showing. May as well come clean, right? Maybe we can help each other. I have things you may want," she said and looked at Royce. "And you have things I definitely want."

Gag.

I mean maybe she meant his medical expertise, but I think she had other things in mind too.

Royce glanced between the two of us. "Both of you need to be hospitalized. This is like implant Armageddon."

"Nice sentiments, but there are no hospitals in this entire province that we'd be safe in," Alice said. "How about this. I'm starving. You guys haven't eaten in days. Dinner, and then we deal."

Alice and I looked at each other and grinned.

Her taste in men was questionable, but this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

And I still wanted to know what was at the end of the rabbit hole.

Chapter Eighteen

The restaurant was noisy, filled with people gulping rice and grilled meats that were being roasted at barbecues sunk into the tables. Loud exhaust fans helped pull the smoke from the grills up and out of the dining room. My stomach growled in anticipation, it all smelled so good.

"You sure this is a safe place to talk?" Royce said.

"Absolutely. Everyone in here is my employee—it's not open to the public. Plus, it's loud, and none of them really speak English. It's fine," Alice said.

High up in the tower now, we must have been a dozen floors above the hagwon level. The big windows looked out over the city below, shining in all its seaside neon glory. I was so totally into it. I wanted jump out the window and sail over the city, absorbing all it had to offer.

Alice was still decked out in her underworld gear, but she had slipped on a pair of tiny black shorts, which were marginally less revealing. I assumed she didn't usually go out in public like that, judging from how she was dressed back at the hotel.

"No one can see in, in case you were wondering. Windows are one-way," she added.

"Works for me," I said. "I especially like that there's food involved."

Royce looked like he was clear of the sedatives, and Gavin was mostly himself again, except for some grogginess and bruises on his face. He was too pretty to get beat up.

I sat between Gavin and Royce, across the table from Alice. Royce reached a hand around my back and tapped Gavin on the shoulder.

"You should be better once you eat something. Get some food in your stomach, counteract those drugs. We'll put some ice on those bruises, and I can give you a boost of healing factors," Royce said. "And we all need a full night's sleep."

Gavin nodded, even more quiet than usual. Not sure what hurt more—his head, or his ego. I felt super sad for his clothes too—I hadn't noticed before, but he was wearing a designer powder blue suit, looked like an Angelo Terrini. Excellent choice, but it was rumpled and stained with blood.

We all needed a shower and a change of clothes. Some of that guy's blood had dripped down onto the ruffle monstrosity happening on my pink dress. For once, I didn't care about the fabric, but blood is still gross.

"I hope you're finding my little hotel comfortable," Alice said.

"It was fine until you kidnapped my friends," I said.

"Sorry about that. Water under the bridge?"

A server came by and dropped a dozen side dishes and several plates of raw meat at our table. Alice picked up the grill cover and started laying strips onto the hot surface.

"Let us cook that—you should avoid using your arms until I can get an x-ray, see if the bones are fusing yet," Royce said to me.

Alice looked at me for a second. "Oh, I get it. You just recently had those tags pulled out, didn't you? I couldn't tell under that disaster of a dress you've got on."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Trust me, I did not pick this thing out for myself. I kind of want to set myself on fire."

Alice's style was totally working for me—even though her look bordered the sleazy side of exotic, the quality was good, and she accessorized well. The long boots and short bottoms made her legs look like they were miles high.

Too bad she still seemed to have a crush on Royce. She sat rather close and kept making eyes at him across the table. He ignored it for now, but I saw him glance up every so often, keeping tabs on her. It wasn't lost on him, and he totally liked it. Couldn't blame him—her heart might be trashed, but her body was totally on point.

"I get why you had to pull your marrow tags—we all know that your arrest warrant is the only reason why you haven't come back here to expand your business. But no one would willingly travel that soon after such a big surgery. I've seen people go through it, and it's brutal," she said.

"You're telling me," I said, my hand unconsciously going to my chest. Nice to be sitting down again, taking the pressure off my ankles.

"So what are you doing here? You have to be in incredible pain. I'm not sure how you managed to grab Dong-su earlier," she said.

"No kidding. Glad we were able to work that out," I said, and paused, deciding how and where to start.

I took a sip of water, looked at Gavin and Royce, but neither made a move. All me.

"Tell you what," I said. "Let us know the deal about your implants, then Royce can give you a realistic idea of how we can help you. Then, I'll tell you the whole long story about why we're here, and we can decide on a mutually beneficial arrangement. Sound fair?"

With tongs, she picked up meat from the grill and reached over with her long arms, putting some on our plates. Glad she owned the place—we might end up clearing out the whole kitchen if it tasted as good as it smelled.

She took a bite, snagged some kimchi and rice, thought about it. "I can agree to that. You know most of my story, anyway, and Dr. Hallett has already proven himself extremely useful in a crisis." She tapped her fingers on the back of Royce's hand.

Did Royce just blush? I think he did. I should try calling him Dr. Hallett more often. He cleared his throat. "You can just call me Royce, but thank you."

She ate another mouthful, slowly. "Royce it is, then."

Ugh. They should just go back into one of those conjugal rooms in Wonderland at this rate.

"I need to know anything you can tell me about your implants—your heart or any others. If you've got multiple systems involved, that gets complicated," Royce said, looking at me.

"You always say that like I had a choice about it," I said.

Alice glanced at me, but didn't bother asking what I meant. "I've only got one other implant, beyond the ones in my heart." She pointed at her shimmery eyes. "There are a few in here."

"You usually wear contacts to cover those up?" I asked.

She nodded. "They attract a lot of attention that I don't really need these days."

Royce leaned forward, scrutinizing her eyes. "Looks like maybe a few things going on, if I had to guess. Night vision, definitely. Color augment for sure. What else?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Good guess. Night vision, pressure moderator, added corneal protective layer, and a hue corrector. The iris color actually isn't cosmetic, although I think it looks nice. It's an effect of the other implants."

"Jesus, may as well have synthetic eyes at that point," I said. Whoops, that wasn't exactly polite.

Alice glared at me. "There are advantages to natural eyes with added implants instead of artificial eyes, as I'm sure Dr. Hallet can tell you."

"She's right," Royce said. "Smart choice."

"I've never had any issues with the ocular implants. It's the heart ones that are starting to be a problem."

"No kidding," Royce said. "So why all the oculars? That's an odd assortment of augments."

She smiled. "Diving. I'm a mermaid, remember? My people are naturally good at diving deep underwater, unassisted. Someone decided it would be great if I was even better. With a little help from technology. The ocular augments help me see deep underwater without a mask or any other lighting. The rest of the stuff in my heart helps me stay underwater longer without needing oxygen or having pressure adaptation issues."

I looked at her. "What do you mean, someone decided?" Goosebumps erupted on my arms, snaking up to my neck until they hit my earlobes. Big shiver.

"My parents were poor country people. Pretty hard to turn down a big cash offer, especially with the claim that a child could become a better diver. That's how we survived—getting abalone from the ocean floor. So they volunteered me for this study," she said.

Royce and Gavin stared at me, open-mouthed.

"Holy shit," Royce said.

Holy shit was right.

"Did this company happen to be a very large and powerful Chaebol?" I said.

Alice stopped. Looked at me. All eyes in my direction. Uncomfortable.

"How did you know that?" she said. "The company dissolved many years ago. I thought it was permanently dead, but it's back from the ashes. That's why I can't go back to Seoul. I'm afraid they might start looking for a few of their missing projects."

"Yeah. I get that feeling. I get it really good," I said. I thought that the mesh project was the only thing the Chaebol had going on, but what did I know? It had been a huge company, obviously involved in all kinds of shady activities.

"The company went up pretty spectacularly. One of their prized subjects broke out and ran off with a bunch of other kids they were using for research, and the head of the company went bonkers. Killed a few hundred people and then wasted himself. I lucked out—since my parents still had custody of me, I was back at home when the whole thing happened. The left me and my implants to finish out my life in peace, but I can't imagine what other kinds of tests they would have put me through if they hadn't self destructed," she said.

I gulped. Stunned. Absolutely stunned. "Yeah," I said. "That was me."

She cocked her head. "What do you mean? You were part of the Chaebol?"

"No. I'm the one that escaped and triggered that chain reaction. I was that prized research subject," I said and pointed at Gavin. "And he's one of the kids that I rescued before fleeing the city."

No one moved. Meat sizzled on the grill, some of it starting to burn.

Alice snapped out of it first, flipping the meat before it was ruined. "Seems we may have more in common than we bargained for."

I laughed. "Good thing we didn't kill each other. If you went through half of what I did, then you've suffered enough."

"So that's my story. I'm a bionic mermaid, I run Wonderland, and I use the hotel as my cover. I got some of the money to start Wonderland from diving—there's a rare, delicate metal in the ocean down here that they have a hard time harvesting with machines, but with the implants, it's easy for me to get. After the Chaebol went under, things were pretty good until I started having these heart problems. I've seen a bunch of doctors, but it's hard to find ones that you can trust that are also good."

"How do you think I got stuck with Royce?" I said.

Royce smacked my shoulder.

"Hey! You're the one saying my collarbones might not be fused yet. Watch it," I said.

"So you're having some kind of implant rejection too?" she said.

"Bad. Really bad," Royce said. "I'm actually surprised she's made it this far."

I smacked Royce back, not caring that it hurt my chest. "I'm sitting right here, jeez. Haven't you ever heard of positive psychology?"

"I don't do brain stuff," he said.

"So, you're already familiar with our friend the evil Chaebol," I said to Alice.

"Things worked out okay for me in the end, but I know people with other implants that didn't fare so well. Lot of deaths, lost body parts—that sort of thing. I'm not a fan of their methods. That's why I'm staying the hell away from Seoul—not that they couldn't come down here, but this is my turf. I have the advantage."

"I can sympathize with that—we were trying to stay out of trouble. Hadn't banked on running into someone like you that would be suspicious of Gavin's connections to my casino business. Maybe it was fate," I said.

"Wonders never cease," she said.

"Is that your business slogan? Because that's actually pretty good," I said.

She smiled. "So what are you doing here, and more importantly, how can I help you. Sounds like we have a common enemy."

I took a deep breath and gave her the rundown—the parts that were relevant and safe to disclose.

"There you have it. I let Royce slice open my chest and ankles so we could go on this wild goose chase for a cure that might ultimately kill me anyway. Fun times," I said.

"That's rough," Alice said. "Sorry I was a part of making this worse."

I shook my head. "I would have done the same thing in your position. You don't just walk onto someone's turf like that. I was ignorant about the scene out here since I've been exiled so long."

"I can at least offer you something as a consolation— I'll help you get to that island. The way you're going about it, you'd be toast before you ever made it to that factory."

"You know how to get onto Wando?" I said.

"I'm not in the smuggling business myself, but let's just say I have clients from various walks of life. They help me out when I need it. I was looking into that factory myself."

"That's the other thing I need to know—what's going on with your heart? You don't have any mesh in there, do you?" Royce said.

"Not as far as I know. Sounds like that was a totally different experiment from the one I was involved in. If Hyojin is right, then she's the only survivor of that research," she said.

"That's an accolade I'd rather not have," I said. "And you can call me Jin." Only one person called me anything but Jin, and I didn't want to remember that, especially today.

"Better than the alternative," Royce said.

"I'm great with implant hacks, actually," Alice said. "That's my side hobby—I'm pretty handy with mechanics, of all sorts. From what I can tell, there's some kind of synching issue with the electronics—there's a complicated array laced around my circulatory system. Looks like a combination of the old parts wearing out and my body reacting to the implants."

Of course—who didn't have a side hobby as a biomechanical hacker? That's what I love to do with my weekends.

Royce bit his lip. "I need good imaging studies, more readouts, EKG, echocardiogram. Preferably I'd just get in there and physically see what's going on, but I wouldn't want to disrupt the array surgically until I have a better handle on the setup. With heart muscle, there's an electrical component, and the synching is really important. Otherwise you're going to have issues, like you did earlier."

"That factory down there, it's owned by the Chaebol, like you said. I snooped around, just in case they were still manufacturing implants— thought maybe I could steal myself a few replacement parts," she said.

"Is it possible that your implants are made out of similar materials as my mesh?" I said. "Royce got a sample of mine...he dug it ever so carefully out of my back."

"That took hours to remove without paralyzing your feet. Without that data, I'd have no idea what kind of coating we need to replace," he said.

I could still feel where he'd taken it out. The one blessing of the other surgeries was that it made me mostly forget about all the other little procedures I'd had over the last week.

Alice shifted, took another slow bite. "No idea. I haven't found anyone willing to open up my chest and see what's in there. If I had my old medical records or something, that would help, but those are all gone with the wind," she said.

"If I can even get an x-ray of your chest, that will give me a better idea of what's in there. Then while we're down in that factory, if we manage to break in, I can see if there are any parts we can scavenge, bring back for you," he said.

"Sounds like a gamble. But I like to play the game," she said.

I grinned.

My kind of woman.

"If we pull this off, I'd prefer to bring you back to L.A. I have an advanced imaging suite specifically meant for looking at implants. It will be much safer to deal with your heart problem there," he said. "I'm sure Jin wouldn't mind sharing the facility."

I spread my hands. "Mi casa es su casa," I said and Alice just looked at me, puzzled. Oh. Guess she didn't speak Spanish.

"If you can find a supplier, I can put you on a drug regimen that will help keep you stable until I can work out a surgical plan. Obviously my license is no good here, so I can't write the scripts, but I can write out the doses for another doctor to fill. Or, if you have other connections that are easier to use—just make sure the drugs are legit. Off-label drugs and bad hearts don't mix," he said.

"I can do that. I have plenty of connections," she said.

"So how do we get into the factory?" I said.

Alice pushed away empty dishes and folded her hands on the table. "You're going to need a boat, some of my machines, and...a lot of luck."

"Your machines?" I said.

"When we're done eating here, I'll take you up to my toy attic." She pointed at the ceiling.

Intriguing. I liked exclusive playthings.

Alice had been grilling meat that whole time, and our plates were heaped with steaming selections of different marinated cuts. I'd been so shocked that I forgot to eat.

She waved a hand over the table. "Go ahead and dig in. These are premium cuts."

I liked her more and more every minute. I can appreciate someone that always goes for the top of the line. Why have chopped liver if you can have filet mignon?

Looking around at our weird little crew, jammed into this restaurant high above the streets of Mokpo, for just this moment, I thought we might be able to pull off this crazy stunt. Fix my mesh, bring Alice back to L.A. and give her a new heart, vanquish some of the damage the Chaebol had done. And maybe I could eventually deal with my legal problem and come back to Korea without having to slice open my chest.

Rather like Alice herself, the possibilities were delicious.
Chapter Nineteen

Up several more floors, at what I assumed was the top of the building, we stood in a spacious room that felt small because of all the stuff crammed into it.

Electronics.

Lots of them.

Circuit boards, wires, chunks of metal, melted plastic, old computer monitors, empty smartphone shells—electronic guts spilled out everywhere like a disemboweled android.

"Sorry, this isn't a public space for a reason. It's a bit chaotic. This is where I do my hobbies," Alice said.

I suppose everyone needs private space, but I preferred hideaways filled with silk and gin instead of circuit boards.

I felt better after eating, and Gavin was almost back his usual self. I hated seeing his pretty face so beat up, but it kind of gave him a tough-guy appeal. He was versatile like that—with a different outfit, it would actually complete a brutal aesthetic that matched his real personality.

"What is all this stuff?" Gavin said.

Alice eyed him warily, and I realized he'd been so silent through dinner, this was the first time they'd really spoken since he'd stabbed half of her security staff.

"He's fine, don't worry. I promise. Right, Gavin?" I said.

He put his hands in his pockets. "Anyone that helps save your life gets a pass in my book. There's no problem."

Alice nodded. "Okay then—I'll take your word. You don't get as big as SEI by being untrustworthy."

I smiled. That was the truth. I always honored my deals. That whole honey catches flies better than vinegar thing usually rings true. I had roots sunk down in Pasadena, and creating a bad reputation for yourself was only good for people that planned to slash and burn. Like that eel, Augustine.

I'd been purposely not thinking about him this whole time, trusting that Gavin had him in check. I needed to keep doing that. Focus on the present. We'd deal with that slime ball when we were back in L.A.

Maybe Alice would have some particularly creative ideas for punishing him. She had good underworld sensibilities, and I'm always open to creative forms of retribution.

After Gavin got over his embarrassment about being kidnapped, maybe he would find some commonalities with Alice. The fact that she managed to capture him in the first place was rather impressive. Exhausted or not, Gavin was a tenacious customer. My respect for her increased.

"So you're a hacker," I said.

She shook her head. "Not really. I don't really do much in the way of software. Firmware sometimes, but it's mostly hardware for me—I'm more of an engineer."

"Quite the collection you've got here," Royce said. He ran his hands through some of wires. "What is most of this? Anything biomech?" He sounded hungry, eager, and I wasn't sure if it was for the equipment, or for Alice. We all had our passions. Lucky for us, Royce enjoyed making machines and bodies play nicely together. Especially if they were pretty bodies, it seemed.

"Not in this room. This is mostly drone equipment," she said.

Drones?

Drones?

My gaze darted around the room. Where were they? Hard to make out shapes in all the mess.

"You okay?" Alice said to me.

"What kind of drones are we talking about here?" I said.

She smiled, the tip of her tongue poking through her white teeth. "The best kind. Do you fly?"

Pretty sure I didn't even need to answer that question. It was written all across my face.

"I live for it," I said.

Alice and I locked eyes, and we bonded over a moment of perfect understanding— the thrill of what it was like to pilot a truly magnificent drone.

"It's too bad you can't stay," she said. "I think you'd fit in here just fine."

I bit my lip and sighed, tapped a toe anxiously, trying not to think about how much I wanted to dig through her workshop. "I'd love to mess around with you all night, talk drone shop, but we're in a time crunch here. Both of us have expiration dates. What's going to help us break into that factory?"

Alice pointed to a closet, its doors closed. "All my finished prototypes are in there. Let's head to the roof. I want to see you fly."

***

We weren't at the top of Jin Tower, but, as much as I hated to admit it, in some ways it was almost better. This was something I'd been denied for so long—gazing at this fantastic bright smear of a black market city, poised right at the edge of the tumultuous ocean, all lit up by the bars and love hotels, the lights fuzzy with the summer humidity. I breathed it all in, thinking that if I died tonight, at least I'd been back here, lived it all as a free adult, thought about what might have been.

"What's that?" I said, pointing out to the sea.

"Friday night," Alice said. "It's the sea fountain and laser show."

Simple, but dazzling, I watched as a variety of multicolored lights flashed across the bay, water jets spouting into the air as music played in sequence with the display. At the other end of the shoreline, lasers projected the crude outlines of human figures, and the shapes danced against a background of a finely sprayed mist. Rather old-fashioned, it still had a certain charm that a modern hologram would lack.

Alice set a box on the graveled roof. Even though the container was small and unassuming, I may as well have been drooling onto the streets below, wondering what was inside.

"What does this have to do with the factory?" Royce said.

"After the boat takes you to the opposite coast, you'll have to hike over the mountains and sneak up from the west side. That's the side without much security—they figure the mountains will keep people out."

Hiking?

Camping?

Awful. I'd rather have another series of gratuitous spinal taps from Royce. Outdoors anything was not my cup of tea. Five star hotel for me and a first class flight, or I wanted nothing to do with traveling.

"Once you make it to the factory, getting inside will be nearly impossible. The whole place is totally locked down. Trust me. From afar, I can't even get a full inventory of what's in there, other than large quantities of that plastic material you're looking for."

"And whatever's in that box is going to help us get past that?" I said.

She nodded. "It's a prototype. And in it's full form, no one has managed to pilot it correctly, including me. But you. Maybe you can."

Exclusive content. My kind of opportunity.

She bent down and took the lid off the box. Inside, there were four VR visors, one controller, and a bunch of tiny things that I could barely see.

Without asking, I automatically went down there, poked my head into the box, and barely resisted from scooping my hands down into the dark contents.

"What are they?" I said.

"Robotic insects," she said. "Like little bees."

"That's something different," I said.

"I haven't been able to use the whole swarm yet. They fly in groups, but you can fly them individually too—there are twenty hand sensors on the controller, and each can fly up to ten bees. There's also an ocular sensor you can activate for added precision. Complicated, but this is still the best controller option that I've come up with so far. I practice when I get time, but it's not easy."

Was I drooling yet? "I've never seen anything like that before," I said.

"Not something I'm planning on making commercial. You can probably find other microdrones out there, but not ones that fly in an integrated swarm like this."

"So why do we need this to get into the factory?" I said.

"Impossible security. You can't just disable one sensor at a time. They all have to be done simultaneously. One of you will need to fly these in there, get the drones in place, and overwhelm the system at the same time. Which one of you has the best drone skills? Even if you're not perfect, as long as you can get maybe five squads all working in tandem, you should be able to do it," she said.

Gavin and Royce laughed.

"That would be Jin. The mesh makes her extra fast. She's a drone expert, supposedly," Royce said.

"Jin's internationally ranked on the FPV drone racing circuit," Gavin said. "I've never seen anyone better than her."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "Big talk," she said. "Let's see what you can do."

She slapped a controller in my hands, and I automatically felt around it, getting the layout, instinctively finding where each lever and touch pad was located, figuring out what they probably did.

Alice handed out the four pairs of VR goggles so that we could all watch my flight path. That was part of the fun of an FPV drone race—you got to watch all the drones as they flew around the track as though you were the drone itself, even if you weren't actually piloting them.

"Strap in," she said, and we all put on our goggles.

"Nice, really crisp display," I said.

"It's a custom job—been working on it for awhile. It's a step up from the standard on the market," she said. "There's a toggle on your visor so you can choose how many bees you want visual input from at a time. The max I can usually handle is five."

"Got it," I said as I intuitively hunted around the visor and the controller, setting up my flying environment.

"You really do know what you're doing," she said.

"Spent a long time behind drone controllers. What's the maximum display limit on this thing? How many bugs can it handle at a time?"

"The system can handle over 100 frames at a time, but that's excessive. No one would ever use that much."

"Great," I said and clicked it up to the top quantity of displays.

"Are you serious?" she said. "I've got some spares, but please try not to crash my whole swarm."

"Don't worry—if I break it, I'll buy it." Heck, I wanted to buy it anyway. How much fun would this to be to fly around Pasadena, get a read on what was happening at a hundred different places at the same time? I could really put a bug up Augustine's ass, as it were.

I hit the launch button, and the little bees rose from box, silently whirring to life. Amazing design. You would never know they were there if not for the tiny fluttering of all those miniature wings. The mesh crackled as I went into hyperdrive again, instantly alive with all the visual and sensory input.

I sent the swarm out into the city, gasping as my fingers danced across the controller, spreading the bees down into side streets, through all the twisting neon, past busy restaurant windows and crowded bars, over the water and right into the light show. I was one with the lasers and the families walking down boardwalk, sitting right there with happy couples as they sipped coffee by the waterfront, down there with young girls dancing around tables filled with beer and soju.

I had never felt so fragmented and yet so connected at the same time.

The thrill was orgasmic, and I breathed heavy, the swarm exploring the city in a way that would never be possible in the flesh.

"Holy shit," Royce said.

"Unbelievable," Gavin said.

"Amazing," Alice said.

Royce's hand touched my back, distracting me for a second, almost making me lose control of the swarm. "Slow down, you're breathing really hard. I don't want you to trigger something."

I would have argued, but I was afraid he was right. I felt flushed, sucking in air, full of electricity and sparks, synapses firing and pumping out adrenaline. With sadness, I brought the swarm back together, merged the display into a single field, and piloted the bees back into their container on the roof.

I took off the visor, and I wasn't the only one breathing heavy. Everyone stood there blinking, trying to get their balance. Surprising no one threw up—I'd seen plenty of people toss their cookies at drone competitions when I made a particularly spectacular set of moves.

I grinned. "So what do you think? Do I have what it takes?"

"I've never seen anything like that," Alice said.

I wanted to put the visor back on, take the hive out again, fly through the city, but I could feel that Royce was right. Better not to stress out the mesh and press my luck.

"Those things are amazing. I want a set for myself," I said.

"No problem. I always need good test pilots."

"Oh, I'll pay for it. I'll definitely pay for it. Just the visor and controller are amazing—so clear and responsive," I said. "I wish we didn't have to deal with all of this crap. I'd stick you on a flight to L.A. right now and take you back to Jin Tower with me."

She laughed. "You'll have to deal with my tower for now."

I breathed in, centering myself again, gazing back at the light show and listening to the faint music in the distance. "Can't complain—your place is spectacular. I'm a little jealous." That was probably an understatement.

"It's not as impressive as your empire, but there's only so much I can do in this country because of the laws. We manage to turn a good profit and still have fun."

I nodded. "Now what?" I said.

"We finish making plans. I charter a boat, find you some new gear, go over maps and security details, then we all get some sleep. I'll move you into an executive suite—we run a certain kind of establishment, if you couldn't guess, but there are a few rooms at the top that I think you'll find quite to your liking," she said.

First class upgrade.

Exactly what I wanted.
Chapter Twenty

I should have photographed our last night in Alice's hotel, just for the good memories, because I couldn't remember what it was like to feel comfortable.

I liked boats. Rather, I liked yachts. I owned a few, and though I didn't go out on the water as often as I'd like, I always looked forward to gliding along through the harbor on smooth seas.

But this.

This was no yacht.

I wasn't even sure if it really qualified as a boat.

"I'm going to die," I said, hanging my head over the edge of the boat, trying to puke but only dry heaving.

"Possibly," Royce said. "But not from seasickness. I'll make sure you keep your electrolytes stable."

"Thanks. You're so comforting."

"If you don't acclimate soon, I'll see if I have anything in my kit that helps with nausea. I don't want you upsetting your system so much—I'm amazed I've gotten away with giving you so few steroids," he said.

"My liver thanks you for that. How are you not puking your guts out?"

"Dad used to take me out on fishing boats a lot when I was a kid. I've got good sea legs."

The thought of Royce doing something so blue collar as hauling stinky fish out of the ocean was strange, and I realized I had no idea what his past looked liked, where he came from, how he got to where he is today. Conversations for another time when I wasn't trying to keep from barfing right in his face.

"At least one of us does. The Koreans on this dinghy aren't doing so hot."

Gavin sat on a bench on the deck, his head between his knees, quietly suffering. He was good at that. I preferred to be more vocal about my discomfort.

"If the weather service is right, things should smooth out after sunset," Royce said.

"I hope so. Otherwise, you can just toss my body overboard and call this whole adventure good."

It was still light out, but by the time we breached the perimeter of the island, it would be dark, which is what we needed to safely enter the far shore. According to Alice, this vessel was so small that it wouldn't trip any of the security traps. We'd just look like a pod of dolphins or something like that.

The boat's tiny size also made it delightful to sail on rough waters.

Gavin sat up, looking pale. "If that typhoon doesn't swing west, we're going to be in trouble."

Royce shook his head. "Alice and the weather service were adamant that typhoons rarely hit these islands directly. They get blown the other way, towards Okinawa. Might have a little hiccup before sunset, but we should be fine. I've sailed through worst."

I guess it did make sense in a weird way that he knew his way around a boat—Royce was kind of built for manual labor with his broad shoulders and huge hands, like he'd come from a long line of ranch hands or something like that.

"If you think these waters are fine right now, I don't want to know what your idea of a little hiccup is. I'm definitely going to die," I said.

"Stop being so dramatic. This is kind of nice, being on the water. It's gorgeous out here," he said.

We'd sailed past a few smaller islands, green with vegetation in a way that you only get in tropical climates. It was monsoon season, and the constant rain made everything unbelievably lush. Royce looked almost peaceful as he gazed out there, inhaling all that ocean water, spray in his face, leaving a little frosting of dew on his short hair. Totally in his element.

Me, I was not into the whole nature thing, in any way shape or form. All the mist and wind gave me goose bumps, made me feel sticky and cold at the same time. Give me concrete and bright lights any day.

"Where are you from anyway?" I said. No way he was a native of L.A.

"Seattle. My family was in the fishing business," he said.

"You're a...fishmonger? My surgeon started out gutting fish for a living? You've got to be kidding."

"Don't be an elitist pig. I obviously decided on a different career path. But you know, yeah, those knife skills were useful in med school." He made a little sawing motion in the air and I gagged again.

He laughed and I glared at him.

"Sorry," he said. "Couldn't resist. Why don't you sit down next to Gavin and put your head down for a bit. Half of motion sickness is in your mind."

"Is that a medical fact, or are you just teasing me," I said.

He shrugged. "Little of both. Here, let me help you." He put an arm around my waist and guided me over to the bench.

Gavin put his head against the wall. "Now I'm wishing we spent more time on your boats. Didn't realize how sensitive I am."

"I thought the mesh would help Jin adapt faster," Royce said.

"I think it's making it worse. If I don't consciously try to slow things down, I track all the itty bitty motions of the horizon, but then it doesn't jive with the sensory information coming from the boat. When I'm flying a drone or something like that, I'm always on steady ground," I said.

"Good thing you're not going to try flying anything from the deck," he said.

"No way. I'd end up falling in the ocean."

I wasn't prepared for a lot of things on this trip—didn't even have the right clothes. We hadn't planned on hiking, so they didn't have outdoor gear ready for me. My chest and my ass were too big to wear any of Gavin's tight-fitting outfits, and the only things Alice had on hand were more appropriate for a pole dance than camping.

So I got to wear Royce's sweats.

That made me want to vomit almost as much as the seasickness.

The grey sweatshirt was enormous on me, and I had to wrap the drawstrings around my waist three times just to keep the pants from falling down. Gavin had a pair of trainers to lend me, but they were still two sizes too big.

Just fantastic. Stuck on a boat in the middle of rough weather, puking my guts out while wearing some of the most disgusting and ill-fitting clothes I'd ever had on my body.

The pants sagged, and I pulled on the drawstring, trying to keep them from falling to my ankles.

"You look kind of cute in all those baggy clothes. Like the morning after, if you know what I mean," Royce said.

"I'd punch you if my clavicles weren't disconnected. And I didn't feel like I could vomit until the end of time."

"I'm just teasing. We could always put you back in one of Caramel's dresses if you're not into my stuff."

"No. Thanks. I'll survive. Somehow. Maybe."

Waves rocked the boat, and I grabbed the railing as water splashed my ankles. Alice was smart to pack everything in waterproof containers—seemed a little excessive at the time, but now I was grateful. The last thing I wanted was to ruin those amazing drones.

"There's a cot inside the cockpit area. You should go lay down. The stress isn't good for your body. We're so close, I'd hate for you to have another major episode before we make land. I'd have a hard time getting a needle into your spine with all this movement," he said.

The thought of him holding me down and slipping a huge needle into my back while we roller-coastered over enormous waves made me even more nauseous.

"Yeah, let's avoid that. But I want to stay out here in case we capsize and have to swim for it. Gavin's not the strong in the water," I said.

Royce looked at him. "You can't swim?"

"Not well," Gavin said.

"How about you?" he said to me.

"Normally I can swim just fine, but I'm going to have a tough time with my collarbones like this," I said.

"Just a minute." Royce left and came back with a pair of life jackets. "Put these on."

"Awesome. The only thing that could make this outfit more repulsive is a bright orange life vest."

"Just put them on. Actually, I'll help you. I don't want you moving your arms over your head." He tossed a vest at Gavin who caught it and fastened it over his shirt.

"Fine," I said.

"Relax your arms."

I held them out slightly and he gently slipped the vest over my shoulders, buckling it across my chest.

"That might give you a little more support, keep those bones from moving less," he said.

"Right, it's just so cozy," I said and motioned at him with my chin. "What about you? Where's your vest?"

He pointed at his shoulders. "Koreans weren't banking on having a guy my size on their boats. None of those will fit me."

"Hope you're a good swimmer."

"I'm an excellent swimmer, I'll be fine. Or, I can hang onto the two of you like you're a pair of life rafts."

"Sounds like a super idea, how could that plan ever fail? Didn't your parents ever bother to teach you water safety?"

"Safety is my middle name," he said. "Now that you're all bundled up, why don't you both lie down on that cot? You're small enough that can share."

I looked at Gavin, and he was so miserable, complexion green with nausea, the rest of his face still bruised from the Wonderland fiasco.

"I don't like admitting it, but Royce is right. Let's lay down until we get closer to the island," I said.

Gavin nodded. "If it means you'll get some more rest, that's fine by me. I don't think either of us can vomit anymore."

"Good, because I'd hate for you to ruin Royce's awesome sweatshirt," I said. "Where'd you get this smelly thing from anyway, a thrift store?"

"Just go take a nap," Royce said. "Call for me if you start feeling any mesh symptoms, or if your wounds start hurting really badly again. I'd prefer to keep you off pain meds until we're on land again, just in case. Water and sedatives don't mix well."

He had a point. I took Gavin's hand and led him into the tiny cabin. I lay down on the cot first, trying to pretend I was on an old water bed and not some barely seaworthy vessel.

Fortunate, really, that Royce knew how to navigate a boat, because I had zero clue. I hired people for that stuff, and I was pretty sure Gavin had no idea how to safely operate a boat either. Not his jurisdiction.

Meanwhile, Royce seemed like he was on a freaking vacation. He was right at home on the water. Good thing. The rusty boat had some kind of antiquated steering system, but it still needed to be monitored, adjusted if we hit a rough patch and got steered off course. This little death trap didn't have any of the useful equipment that my yachts did.

Gavin slid behind me, curling his legs behind mine and draping his arm over my stomach. Even though it was the middle of summer, with all the wind it was surprisingly cold. He nestled his head into the back of my neck, and it was comforting to have some human contact. Between all the padding and the snuggling, I felt cozy and deceptively safe enough that I started drifting off to sleep.

Loud crackling roused me, and Royce's footsteps pounded across the deck.

"Pick up. Royce. Jin. Gavin. Someone."

Alice, over the radio.

"Royce here."

"The typhoon is shifting. Fast. You need to turn back. Immediately. Another storm has merged with it, and it's coming. Now."

"The wind has been with us the whole time. We're almost there. We can't go back," he said.

"Then you need to bear west, away from the storm, as fast as possible. That little thing boat won't protect you in a storm. You need to get out of there."

"Got it. I'll push it as fast as the engine will go. Any other tips?"

"Batten down the hatches. And pray."

Gavin was up before me. I opened my eyes and swung my feet off the cot.

Royce and I locked eyes.

"We're in trouble," I said.

"We're not that far from shore. If this little ship can give us enough juice, we'll move west around the rim of the island and hit land before the typhoon catches up with us."

"And if we don't?" I asked.

"Keep those life vests on."

Chapter Twenty-One

Royce had been wrong before, but he got one thing right: lifejackets. Big time. Gavin bobbed in the water next to me, clutching a pile of our gear in one arm and the edge of my vest in the other.

I could barely hear anything over the roar of the ocean, the waves slapping at my head, the wind and thunder roaring above, rain pouring over us, the sum of all that force whacking me right in the face, stinging my eyes.

Behind us, the capsized ship bobbed in the water, thrashing in the waves, drifting dangerously close.

And there was no sign of Royce.

"Gavin! Can you see Royce?" I yelled over the storm, taking a mouthful of water as another wave splashed against my lips.

Royce had thrown on a life vest before the worst of the storm caught up with us, but like he'd said, the thing wouldn't buckle around his huge chest.

"No!" Gavin yelled back.

I had to find him.

The rain was falling so hard that it was almost painful, made it nearly impossible to see straight, but I had to concentrate.

When the boat capsized, a wave tossed it end over end. Gavin and I cleared the edge of the ship, but Royce went beneath it, and I didn't know if the boat had hit him as it crashed into the water.

But if anyone could find Royce in this mess, it was me.

I forced myself to go into hyperdrive, willing that stupid mesh to kick into gear as I frantically scanned the ocean for any sign of Royce.

He might be dead already, pushed to the bottom of the seafloor.

There had to be a chance he was still alive, floating somewhere. Maybe the lifejacket had stayed on him long enough bring him up to the surface, keep him from immediately drowning in the ugly sea.

Gavin coughed next to me, gagging as he went under the water after another vicious wave broke against his shoulders. He came back up a second later, but lost his hold on my vest, and we started drifting apart.

"Jin! Grab my hand!" he said.

I fumbled, slapping at the waves, trying to move close enough to get hold of him again. Finally, I connected with something solid and snatched it, screaming as the force felt like it was pulling my collarbones in half.

Gavin screamed too, and as his fist came out of the water, it was bent in all the wrong directions, fingers splayed, wrist hanging at an unnatural angle. Something had crushed his hand when the boat capsized.

"Oh god, Gavin," I said, starting to let go of his wrist.

"No! Don't let go. Hold onto me. I can't lose you," he said.

He was right, we couldn't lose each other, but we also couldn't lose Royce. Without him, this whole thing was pointless, and now Gavin's hand needed urgent medical attention.

Plus, as much as I hated to admit it, I cared about that stupid lug.

I wanted to cry, but I grabbed Gavin tighter, refusing to let us drift apart, feeling his body tense with pain as I crushed his wrist.

Focus.

I had to do it.

As much as I hated implants, I wished I had Alice's mermaid augments. If I could see and breathe underwater, I might be able to find Royce before it was too late.

And even if he was dead, he deserved for someone to find his body.

I closed my eyes, tried to harness the damned mesh, and opened my eyes, scanning the waters for any flashes of movement.

By the ship, dangerously close to the wreckage, a spot of red.

Red.

Royce's shirt.

"It's Royce!" I yelled. "I have to save him."

"Don't let go of me," Gavin said.

"Hold our stuff, stay above the water. Use it to float. I'll make it back to you. I promise."

I wasn't strong, but I was fast, and I had to believe that I could overcome the current. It was going to hurt. A lot. But there was no choice.

I unfastened my lifejacket and looped it around Gavin's arm.

"No! Jin, please, no," he said.

"Hold onto that. I'll be back."

He screamed at me, but his words were swallowed by the storm, and I dove under the water, using my small size and speed to my advantage, plunging through the water like a torpedo, getting under the currents, riding the tide when I could, heading right in the direction of that red cloth.

With each stroke, I felt like my chest was being ripped apart, and I tried to swim with my feet, like an actual mermaid, but the current was too strong. As soon as I ran out of momentum, I had to use my arms to push me through the water.

Bones cracked in my shoulders.

I reached the edge of the boat and surfaced, scanning quickly. Diving beneath the waves, I opened my eyes in the tumultuous water and caught just a glimpse of color.

With a big push, I dove deeper, arms out, kicking so hard I almost ran face first into his limp body.

Now the hard part.

I grabbed his arm, and swam with all my might towards the surface. The burning pain in my chest and in my lungs, I ignored it as I held on and hauled with everything I had until I breached the water. Head swimming with agony, I gulped air and pulled Royce up, making sure his head was above waves.

He moved.

Not much.

But he moved.

Alive. Royce was still alive. We could still save him.

I screamed as I put one arm around his neck and shoulders, and with every bit of my strength, I swam towards the shore, away from the perilous wreckage and back to Gavin.

He floated in the current, the orange life vest a bright beacon in the dark waters. I just had to get there. Make it back to Gavin, and then hang on for dear life until we hit the coast.

"I've got him," I yelled as Gavin's figure dipped beneath the sea.

Swimming harder, I reached his side out of pure tenacity. I took my life vest from Gavin's hand and draped it around Royce's shoulders, looping it around one of his arms.

I blinked, sucked in air, held onto Royce and Gavin as we were mercilessly battered by the storm.

Gavin looked me right in the eye and said, "We're going to make it. I don't care what happens, but we're making it to land. I won't watch you drown."

An illusion of distance, it looked like we could reach out and touch land, teleport to the shore with one snap of the fingers.

But it was so far.

"You're Jin. You can do anything," he said, getting a better hold of me and the case. "We can do this."

"No one stops SEI," I said. "Let's go."

The most important part of gambling is never letting your opponent see that you're scared or doubtful.

I just hoped Mother Nature couldn't tell that I was bluffing.
Chapter Twenty-Two

Waves licked at my ankles, and an infuriatingly clear sunset twinkled over the horizon. All that, and it was about to be a beautiful twilight. The typhoon had grazed us just long enough to nearly kill everyone.

Nearly. That was the key word.

"Gavin. Gavin, are you okay?"

He just groaned in response, but groaning meant he was still alive.

Beside me on the beach, Royce was on his knees, vomiting into the sand. When he finished, he sat back on his haunches, rubbing his face. "Oh god, I think I aspirated sea water."

"I'm guessing that's bad."

He panted for a second before answering. "Salt water washes away an important chemical in your lungs. How's my color?"

I turned my head to look at him. "Bad. You're super pale, a little blue."

He wrapped his arms around himself, as though suddenly realizing that he was shivering. "Cold. We need to warm up. Hypothermia can happen fast. Are you okay?"

"Better than you, it looks like," I said.

"How did we get out of the water?"

"It was me—I pulled you out. I'll wait for my thank you card to come in the mail."

"You rescued me? With your collarbones like that?" he said. "Shit, you may have broken those fusion points again."

"It was either that or let you drown. Gavin's not a strong swimmer, and he messed up his hand."

Royce groaned and spat into the sand, coughing a few more times. "I need to see what supplies made it ashore. If you broke into the marrow chamber of your collarbones, you could start throwing clots."

"That sounds bad," I said and touched my chest. I had a feeling that the shock and the cold were keeping me from feeling the full force everything that was happening in my body.

Royce looked over at Gavin. "What did you do to your hand?"

Gavin held his hand up in the air, and I didn't need to be a doctor to know that it didn't look right.

"Crushed it in the wreck," he said.

Royce leaned forward into the sand again, palms digging into the beach. "Oh fuck. That's bad—I can tell from here. Multiple fractures. Looks surgical. Probably needs some pins. Give me a minute, and I'll come over there."

Gavin clutched his hand to his chest. "I'll survive."

"This is bad. We're in awful shape. Broken bones can throw clots. At least there are no huge vessels in your hand. I'm more worried about Jin. I need x-rays on you both, but that's not going to happen."

"You look like you need some medical attention yourself. I'm surprised you're alive. I thought you were toast for sure," I said.

"Chest hurts. Probably screwed up my electrolytes, stressed my heart. Need some antibiotics to prevent aspiration pneumonia—definitely got some water in my lungs."

"We need to get off the beach," Gavin said. "Even at dusk, it's not safe to stay here. After that Typhoon, they might be scanning the coasts. We didn't plan for that."

I sat up, biting my tongue when I thought I felt things moving in my chest. Crap. Royce might be right about my collarbones—the left one felt especially bad.

"How the hell are we going to get back to Mokpo?" I said.

Royce pointed down the beach. "Ship followed us back. Don't know if it's seaworthy or not. Depends on whether or not the hull was damaged after it capsized."

Several meters down the shore, our tiny boat was wedged into the sand, waves splashing over the edge of the upended hull.

"What do we do? Try to sail back? None of us are in any condition to hike across an island. We don't even know if the drones made it through the storm," I said.

Gavin pointed at the case he'd held onto the whole time we were in the water. "No. We don't give up. We're close. We can make it. Most of our medical supplies and the drones are in this container, and the shell is intact. They'll still fly."

And that's why he held onto it for dear life, even though his hand was crushed. I swallowed to hold back tears. No time for a breakdown.

Royce squinted as the sunset began its final flare and darkness crept over the beach. "I'm with Gavin—we continue with the mission. If we fix your mesh, then we try to scavenge parts from the factory to repair the boat, maybe make contact with Alice. If we're lucky, she might already be sending another ship. She had a tracker on the vessel. Eventually, she'll figure out what happened."

"That's a big pile of ifs," I said. "Island security might also find the boat and realize that someone has breached the perimeter."

"As soon as we can all stand, we need to search the wreckage and head for the trees," Gavin said.

Even in a crisis, Gavin was great at making quick strategies, and he was right. We couldn't stay here on the beach, waiting to be plucked by security. If the Chaebol got ahold of us again, there's no telling what they'd do.

Royce had the medical expertise.

Gavin had control of the logistics.

I just hoped that I could bring the luck.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Cold. Heavy wind. Darkness. Mosquitos.

Absolutely awful.

With our clothes sopping wet, and mud caking my shoes, right up to my calves, we sat in a small clearing on the edge of the forest. My stringy hair smelled like rotten seaweed, and I shivered so hard that it hurt my collarbones, one of which, according to Royce, was absolutely broken again.

"Damn it. Shivering is painful," I said.

Royce grimaced. "I feel responsible."

"You are the one that did it in the first place, I guess."

He made a face. "Not that. I mean, I should have put full titanium plates in there, but I didn't want to traumatize the bone even more. Plus, it would have left you with weird lumps in your chest, and I would have had to make new cuts in a different place to put the tags back in again later."

"None of that sounds good. I'm just going to live in the Undergrid so that you can keep your hands off my bones."

"I also wasn't banking on you trying to swim the English Channel," he said.

"Well if you would try to drown less, that wouldn't be such a problem," I said.

Royce put his head down, embarrassed, or sad, or maybe both. Got the feeling he wasn't used to being rescued.

"Look, you wouldn't be out here in the first place if it weren't for me. Least I can do is keep you from dying," I said.

"I just need to get this fire going, and then we'll all feel a lot better. Hard to think with hypothermia setting in," he said.

We hadn't made it that far into the woods, but it would have to be far enough. With everyone soaking wet, the strong winds blowing through the trees made the humid cold unbearable.

"Fire is going to be dangerous," Gavin said. "No way to hide the smoke."

"No choice. You want to make it through the night, or not?" Royce said.

"I was thinking the same thing—if they're looking for us, won't they know exactly where to go?" I said.

"Cross your fingers and hope that they'll think it's a small fire from a lightning strike," Royce said. "Plus, once there's a fire going, I can cook some of this fish. Food will help us keep up our strength, get us over the hill tomorrow."

"I still can't believe you managed to catch fish that fast," I said.

Before we'd left the beach, Royce used a stick to spear a couple fish—stab stab, and within minutes we had food.

"Old habits die hard. Normally wouldn't see that many fish close to the shore. Probably agitated from all the waves. Piece of cake," he said.

Good thing, since we'd lost most of our small food supply. We might be half drowned, but at least we wouldn't be starving.

My survival skills were way more applicable to the urban jungle—drop me in any city, and I'd find my way around, make a few bucks, start a new business without any problem. Out here in the woods? Beyond out of my element.

And beyond miserable.

Gavin's face was blank, but I knew he was just as unhappy. We are not the outdoorsy type. My bedroom back at Jin Tower seemed like from some other lifetime I'd only dreamed about.

"Do you know how to start a fire by rubbing sticks together or something?" I said.

Royce shook his head, his face flashing in the glow from our single flashlight. "Not really. I mean, I did it when I was kid, on camping trips. But in this weather, it's so wet, it wouldn't work." He held a small torch. "I put this in our medical supplies—never know when you might need to cauterize something."

Since the odds of the thing needing to be cauterized pointed to me, the fact that he'd brought along a small blowtorch was disturbing as hell.

"Great. That's what I call a good time—a cauterization party," I said.

"We're lucky neither of you had any open fractures—or I would have needed to cauterize something," he said. "Once I get this fire going, I'll need to see what I can do about your collarbone and Gavin's hand."

"I can manage," Gavin said.

"Sorry dude, but I can't let it sit like that. You might lose circulation in your hand—I have to reduce some of the fractures."

"It can't wait?" he asked.

"Sorry. There's pain medication in the part of my medical kit that survived. I'll give you some before I do it."

"No. I'm the best at security. I need to stay alert. There could be patrols, and if nothing else, there are animals that might think we'd make a nice snack. Especially if we're cooking."

What the hell lived out here? I'm not a naturalist, I had no idea what lived on islands. Not that I didn't think Gavin could wrestle a bear and win, but I wouldn't want to bet on what body parts he might lose in the process.

"You sure? It's going to hurt like hell," Royce said. "Your hand's broken in at least five places, maybe more."

"I'll survive."

"Feel free to send all the drugs my way," I said.

"Good, because pushing your clavicle back into place isn't going to feel great either. I need to stabilize your chest somehow—I'd hate for you to start developing bone necrosis," he said.

"Let's just pretend like there are no potential side effects to this, shall we?" I said. "How are you doing? You're the one that nearly drowned."

Hard to tell in the dark, but I thought he smiled. "Glad you care," he said.

"I spent all that effort pulling you out of the maelstrom. You better not die on us."

"My chest still hurts—can't tell if it's just lungs or a cardiac problem. Stomach hurts too—think I swallowed a bunch of seawater, which is not good. Once I get you guys stabilized and we eat, I need to take a shot of antibiotics, maybe give myself a boost of something to reduce a possible electrolyte imbalance, and lay down. Then I think I'll be okay," he said.

"I don't know what half of that means, but all of it sounds bad. Don't push it. Stop if you feel like something's wrong. If we lose you, we're all extra screwed," I said. "And, I'd miss your stupid face if you were dead." Couldn't believe that came out of my mouth, but I really was worried about him. He could be seriously ill—seemed like it might be easy to misdiagnose yourself.

"Shoot, Jin, you're going to make me blush over here."

"I might be delirious or something."

Royce leaned down, blowing on the little fire until flames sprang up. Impressive, considering the damp fuel. He'd shredded some bigger pieces of wood to find drier material on the inside. I preferred the kind of fire that came to life with the push of a button in my fireplace.

"Nice job," Gavin said.

As the fire got bigger, I saw everyone more clearly, and we looked like a bunch of drowned rats.

"You know what else we should do?" Royce said. "Take off our clothes. We need to dry off, or we'll never get warm."

I laughed. "Good one, Royce."

With his good hand, Gavin started taking off his shirt. "He's right. We should dry our stuff by the fire."

"Seriously Jin, I've seen it all, get over it already," Royce said.

"Gross." Sitting around in Royce's wet sweat suit that smelled like fermented ocean wasn't a pleasing option either. Couldn't win.

"Here, you both have broken bones. Let me help you out of your clothes," Royce said.

"Extra kinky," I said and he glared at me.

"Do you want help or not?"

"I'm keeping my underwear on."

Royce stripped off his shirt and pants and hung them on a branch near the fire. He left his boxers on, thank god. It was no wonder he had trouble getting a life jacket to fit him—his biceps were the size of my head, and his pecs looked like giant ham hocks. Like muscles on top of muscles. Not my type of physique.

"How much freaking time do you spend at the gym?" I said

He smirked and flexed. "Everyone needs a hobby. And it comes in handy when I need to move bodies by myself."

I wasn't even going to think through all the possible ramifications of that sentence.

Then he went to Gavin and helped him out of his shirt and pants. Took a little bit of effort—wet leather is stubborn. Once Gavin was down to his underwear (nice black silk boxers), Royce came to me.

Before taking off my shirt, he pulled down the neckline and looked at my upper chest. He slipped one hand down my shoulder blade to stabilize my back before he started prodding my collarbone. I winced when he hit the spot where it was obviously sticking out.

"Shit. That's almost all the way avulsed. Lucky it didn't go through the skin. You need surgery again," he said. "Damn it, I should have screwed those plates in after I made that one cut extra wide. That wandering marrow tag really caused a big issue."

"Great, because that's exactly what I wanted. Yet another surgery."

"Obviously that's not going to happen for awhile. There's a bunch of gauze in my medical kit. Not ideal, but that arm needs to be bandaged and held in a sling," he said.

"Just as long as I can still fly those drones."

"Arm stays immobile until then. It will hurt a lot less too, if you keep it still. Let's get you out of those clothes, then I want to deal with Gavin before I make you a sling."

"Sure you don't need to take care of yourself first?" I said. I got the feeling Royce was running off pure adrenaline. He came closer to death than either of us. Broken bones suck, but not breathing seemed like a bigger problem.

"I won't be able to relax until both of you are situated. Especially Gavin's hand. It's looking kind of dusky."

Yikes. If Gavin lost a hand, we really might need to move to the Undergrid. I'd make sure he got the best bionic replacement possible, but the thought of him losing a limb for me made my soul sick.

"Relax your shoulders so I can slip this off," he said and eased the shirt over my head. I appreciated the gentleness of his movements, but it still hurt as my collarbone edges rubbed against each other. I barely noticed when he took off my pants because I was distracted by the chest pain.

I was wearing my own underwear—nice bra and panties, so I had that going for me, and being naked near the fire was surprisingly comfortable. Good to be outside of those stinky wet clothes.

"Come close to the fire so I can see what I'm doing," Royce said to Gavin after he'd finished hanging up our clothes.

You know how they say that when you're nervous you should imagine the audience in their underwear? I don't think the same suggestion applies to your doctor, because this whole situation was extra ridiculous. All of us there, naked by the fire, stranded on an island, hiding in the woods from some evil company. Just a normal Sunday.

Gavin scooted closer to the flames. In the light, it looked even worse than I thought—swollen, discolored, fingers pointing the wrong ways. I felt sick. Ultimately, it was my fault. I didn't bring the waves that did it, but I was the one that put us in the path of the storm.

"You sure about this? This will be a lot more pleasant if I sedate you first," Royce said.

How I wanted Gavin to agree with Royce, but I already knew his answer.

Gavin nodded. "I need to be alert."

"Okay. Lay down for me. I'll try to be quick."

I came around to the other side and used my better arm to take his uninjured hand, lacing our fingers together.

Royce eyed me, making sure I wasn't using the fractured shoulder.

"Try not to break her hand too," Royce said to Gavin.

Oh. He was afraid of how hard Gavin might squeeze me, because it was going to hurt so much. If he did break my hand, I definitely deserved it, but I still wished I could grab some drugs out of Royce's bag and force them on Gavin, prevent him from suffering more.

Wasn't going to happen.

I watched as Royce carefully examined Gavin's hand in the firelight. Gavin grimaced as Royce touched especially sensitive, and he hadn't even started doing anything aggressive yet. I wished I could switch places with him.

"I'm going to do your fingers first, make sure I can get blood flow restored to your digits. Then I'll try to get your wrist back at a good angle before try to splint the whole thing," Royce said.

"Do what you have to do," Gavin said.

Even though his face was professional, a neutral mask, I saw the regret in Royce's eyes. He didn't want to inflict that kind of pain on Gavin. It was cruel and unusual, even for Royce.

When Royce wasn't looking, I stroked Gavin's cheek with my bad arm, silently trying to tell him that it was going to be okay. Maybe I was really trying to tell myself that, but I think he appreciated the gesture because he smiled briefly.

Then Royce started cracking bones. One finger at a time, quick snaps, then small wiggles until each finger was straight again.

Gavin didn't make a sound, but he closed his eyes tight, his hand grabbing mine so hard that I actually did start worrying that he might break something. But I didn't care. He could crush every bone in my hand if he had to.

"You're doing great," Royce said. "Almost done."

I got the feeling he warned him because the thumb was next. Bent at a severe angle, it looked like the worst break.

With a quick snap, Royce moved it back into place, and I felt Gavin's whole body contract, struggling not to move. He let out a small grunt, but managed not to scream.

Royce patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sorry buddy. That's the worst. I'm going to wrap the whole thing, adjust your wrist, and tie it all down in that position. Then we're done, okay?"

Gavin nodded. "I'm ready."

Gavin wasn't crying.

But I was.

Damn.

Broke my own rule about crying in public.

I made a particularly embarrassing sniffling noise and Royce looked at me, realizing I'd finally lost it.

"He's going to be okay—blood flow looks good now that I've reduced all the fractures. After the shock wears off, it should feel better now that everything's back in place," Royce said as he started wrapping the hand in layers of gauze.

It must have been true, because Gavin started breathing normally again—he'd been holding his breath that whole time.

"Thanks," Gavin said quietly.

When Royce was done tying things off, he gave Gavin's shoulder one last squeeze.

"You're a braver man than I am. Rest there for a second—if you sit up suddenly you might pass out. Stress reaction," Royce said.

"I want to help Jin," Gavin said.

"She'll have drugs. It won't be so bad. Stay there."

"It's just a sling," I said. "I'm getting used to it anyway." That sounded like a lie, but you know what, we needed some positive fantasies.

Royce busied himself in the bag of medical supplies, his muscular figure backlit by the fire as he filled a syringe and pulled out more gauze.

"Put your back to the tree again," he said. "I want you sitting up so I can get the position right, move your shoulder blade around."

"Delightful," I said as I reluctantly let go of Gavin's hand and moved back against one of the big tree trunks.

Warmer now at least, I closed my eyes for a second as Royce jabbed the needle in my arm.

I didn't even complain. Totally worth it. Pain I didn't even realize I was dealing with started melting away.

"I love you," I said to Royce, and he laughed so hard that he fell backwards for a second. I started laughing too.

"I'll enjoy that sentiment for the minute that it lasts. I don't want you so groggy that your respirations drop. I'm not in any shape to monitor you—this is still going to hurt," he said.

"Story of my life at this point."

He came at me again, palpating my shoulder blade, and I was feeling too good to mind that we were in our underwear.

"It'll just take a minute—need to weave some kind of support system here," he said.

I sat as still as I could while he threaded the gauze across my chest, under my arm, and around my shoulder in a looping pattern. None if it felt too awful, especially once those drugs hit home. I closed my eyes, letting all of his movements fade into the background.

That is, until he started moving around my collarbone. My eyes flew open, watching as he pushed against my chest.

"I need to reduce the fracture and tie it off hard so that it doesn't move. Give me five minutes, and it will be over, I promise," he said.

I nodded, trying to go back to pretending like none of this was happening.

Nope.

Totally failing at that.

When he finally pushed my collarbone back into place, I screamed. Gavin came to my side, grabbing my free hand.

"I told you to stay down," Royce said.

Gavin didn't bother responding, holding me while Royce finished lashing my arm into place.

Drugs are great. As soon as Royce stopped actively manipulating my arm, everything was fantastic again. I didn't care how tired, naked, cold, or hungry I was.

"You guys make quite the pair," Royce said.

"We should start a band called 'The One Armed Koreans.' Guaranteed to be an instant hit," I said.

"Let me cook the food while you take care of yourself," Gavin said to Royce. "I've still got one good hand."

My admiration for Gavin soared. I was on meds, and I still felt uncomfortable. All I wanted to do was lay there and have people bring me food. He hadn't had any drugs, and he was ready to go again.

"You're ambidextrous?" Royce said.

"I practice everything with both hands."

Gavin was right-handed—the one that was injured, but he'd trained enough with his left hand, mainly for fighting purposes, that he could do things with either. It was impressive. Meanwhile, I was thankful that my horribly damaged arm was connected to my non-dominant hand.

"Let me clean the fish. You need two hands for that. Then maybe you can cook them while I medicate myself," Royce said.

With my head dropped back against the tree, I watched him elegantly gut the fish, like it was second nature.

"Your knife skills are scaring me over there," I said.

Royce laughed. "Like I said. My fishing abilities had a good transfer rate. I can skin things perfectly."

"You sure you're not a ax-murderer or something like that?" I said.

He smirked. "We are out in the woods, in the dark. Perfect spot for a horror story."

"An ax-murderer might be a nice change of pace. Nothing could be scarier than reality."

"Point taken," he said, sliding the clean fish onto a big stick, handing it to Gavin. "Sure you can hold this okay?"

"Yes. Take care of yourself. Let us know if you need help. We have a full set of arms between the two of us," he said.

Gavin held the fish over the fire with his good arm while Royce rummaged in the bag again, filling more syringes for himself.

"You don't need help?" I said.

Moving slower than before, Royce looked exhausted. Dealing with both of us had taken it out of him.

"Just a few things, and some rest, and I should be okay. Food sounds good," Royce said.

I watched as he jabbed himself in his massive bicep with a half dozen syringes. I winced in his honor. Some of those needles were big, but he took them without flinching. Not sure who won the prize for biggest badass between the three of us.

"Fish is ready," Gavin said.

Didn't know what Royce had given himself, but he looked happier as he took one of the fish from Gavin's stick and started pulling off chunks of flesh. The three of us sat around the fire, plucking pieces of hot fish from the spear.

"Thank you," I said. "Both of you. Neither of you for asked for this."

"Not like you asked for it either," Royce said. "I'll be glad when we're off this damned island, though. All three of us need more sophisticated medical equipment."

The fish tasted like some of the finest food I've ever had. Better than a meal in an exclusive restaurant, or room service from Jin Tower. Hunger and exhaustion will do that for you.

As we gobbled the last bits, Gavin suddenly stood up.

"What's wrong? Royce said. "Hand bothering you? You can still change your mind about pain relief."

Gavin ran to the other side of the fire and snagged the knife.

Then I heard it too: rustling in the bushes.

"Don't move," Gavin said.

Royce and I both stood up, and I scanned the woods, looking for movement.

Animals? Humans? The sound was so small, it was hard to tell.

Before either of us could say more, Gavin darted into the forest. Royce started to speak, but I put a finger to my lips.

Silence for a few moments, and then someone screamed.

And it wasn't Gavin.

"Shit," Royce whispered and started putting on his clothes.

More screams, from different voices.

Then silence.

Footsteps quietly padded back in our direction and Gavin reappeared in the firelight, covered in blood.

"You okay?" I said.

He nodded, pointing at the blood. "This isn't mine."

He held the knife casually, like hadn't just slaughtered half a dozen people.

Royce stood frozen. I'd told him about Gavin's special skills before, but he'd ever seen it in action.

"You did that with your non-dominant hand?" Royce said.

"I have knife skills too," Gavin said. "We can't stay here."

No, no we could not. I looked at the last of the fish and the warm fire, and then down at my chest, covered in a web of gauze. Then I switched my gaze to the dark woods.

Running through the forest with my arm strapped to my stomach was not how I wanted to spend the evening.

But the other option was even less appealing.

Now for the true sacrifice: I had to get back into Royce's wet sweat suit.
Chapter Twenty-Four

Climbing the abandoned observation tower was a risk, but so was wandering lost through the woods until we were caught by security and dropped from exhaustion. Even I had to admit that the view from the top of the mountain was spectacular, but that didn't mean I enjoyed the trek.

Mid-afternoon, and with the storm long gone, the summer heat was back, cooking us under the heavy blanket of vegetation like a sauna. The stairs to the wooden observation platform seemed like they went on forever, and by the time we made it to the top, I literally fell down on the dusty boards, spread-eagled on my back. Gavin and Royce had similar sentiments, and they plopped down next to me.

I felt especially bad for Royce, who was carrying all our gear, other than one knapsack that Gavin slung over his good shoulder. Even if I wanted to (which I didn't—I pay people to carry stuff), Royce wouldn't let me put pressure on anywhere on my chest or arms. He looked like a total pack mule with bags piled across his shoulders and over his head.

"I shouldn't have sat down. Now I'll never get back up," I said.

"Just as well, we need to keep our heads down while the sun is up. Doubt anyone can see us all the way up here, but I'd rather not take chances," Royce said.

With a grunt, I sat up and peeked over the edge of the benches on the observation deck. Royce and Gavin followed my lead, gazing over the wet, green landscape, right out to the sea. Heat shimmered across the treetops and dragonflies buzzed in the haze. Way too much nature for me.

"We're closer than I thought," I said. "This is perfect. I could fly the drones right from here."

"This is right where Alice said we should stop," Gavin said. "Any further and we're getting into dicey territory, security-wise. Until we disable the factory alarms, that whole area is dangerous."

"I just hope there aren't a lot of human security agents left on the ground, especially after you got rid of that one squad," I said.

Gavin shrugged with his good side. "Then we wait. We've got the drones to scan the area before entering. If Alice is right, then there usually isn't much human presence to the security—mainly AI. Those ones I took out, that might be the majority of the force on the island."

"Which is why we need to do this tonight. Before they start thinking that something other than an animal or the storm wiped out one of their squads," Royce said.

I plopped back onto the deck, staring at the top of the gazebo and wishing I was somewhere else. Anywhere else. I'd trying not to think about it, but the prize for all of this pain and suffering was...more pain and suffering.

I could die tonight.

I let that sit with me for a second before wiping it right out of my brain.

Gavin sat back, crossed his legs, kept gazing over the tree line. "After tonight, we're going to have a hard time staying off the radar—they'll send someone to investigate the deaths, and this island isn't that big. Once a full response is mounted, it's only a matter of time before we're spotted again."

"We rest for now, then go in at night," Royce said.

"That's all the time we can afford. I'm down an arm, and I can only handle so many attackers at a time," Gavin said. "And the longer we're out here, without enough food or water, the slower I'll be at protecting us."

Royce was trucking around only about a quarter of the fresh water supplies we'd planned on having with us. According to Alice, there was a stream that we should be close to, but drinking unpurified water would be risky. Crapping my pants from some intestinal bug is basically the only thing I could think of that would make this trip even more fun.

"I'm worried about Jin, too. This has been a way harder hike than we ever bargained for. The shipwreck really screwed us up," Royce said and turned to me. "How are you feeling?"

"Just fantastic," I said.

"No really. Take a minute and think about it," he said.

"You mean other than the broken collarbone, the dehydration, the heat, and the exhaustion?"

"Yeah. The mesh. What's going on?"

Royce had given me another injection of something, just in my thigh, earlier in the hike, as a precaution, since he couldn't exactly run tests out in the middle of the wilderness.

I stopped and wiggled my fingers, tried to get a sense of what was happening in that arena. It did feel a little bit off, not like a full attack or anything, but there were little hiccups in my movements, like going very fast over a bunch of speed bumps.

I frowned. "Something's not quite right."

"I don't want to traumatize you with another spinal injection before...before we get down there. I want you to drink a bunch of water and get some rest until the sun goes down," he said.

"I don't want to be traumatized with another spinal injection either. But I also don't want to drink the rest of the water. After we get out of the factory, you and Gavin will have to walk back across the island," I said and we all paused.

I'd said it like they would be walking back alone, and I realized: I wasn't expecting to survive. Somewhere, deep in my psyche, I'd already made a weird peace with my own impending death.

Now that was a creepy moment.

Gavin looked like I'd just punched him in the stomach.

"Jin," Royce said softly. "I'm not going to kill you. I promise you that. I'm not going to lie, this will probably be the most painful thing you've ever lived through, but I absolutely promise: I will not kill you. If you can't survive the procedure, or something else goes wrong, we'll find another way. I swear to you. I'm not stopping until I find a cure for this, and you better not either."

I smiled, but I shivered, still reeling with the realization that I'd been expecting nothing but death this entire time. That'll throw you for a loop.

I cleared my throat. "Didn't mean to be dramatic. I want to live. I've got everything to lose. Maybe it's just wishful thinking because I feel so crappy, you know," I said, trying to make a joke out of it and totally failing. At least I tried.

Gavin was suddenly at my side, holding my good hand with his. "You can trust me to protect you until we get there. And we can trust Royce to keep you alive once we make it inside. I'll be there with you, the whole time," he said.

I started getting up again, but Royce shook his head. "Stay there for now." He unzipped our baggage and rummaged around inside. "I'm going to give you some prep medications, let you cool off a bit. You can sit up for a bit and have some water, but then you need to sleep until dusk."

"Listen to him. You need to be able to fly those drones," Gavin said, and pointed to his hand. "If you're not up to it, I can't help. There's no way I can use my other hand."

Flying those drones would definitely require two hands. Gavin wasn't amazing at flying drones, but he wasn't bad either. I'd always kick his ass head to head, but he had a few moves up his sleeve. That is, when one of his hands wasn't smashed to a pulp and lashed to his chest.

"Don't look at me. I can't even pilot a regular drone," Royce said.

"Looks like it's all me. Just call me lord of the flies," I said.

***

Through the corner of the gazebo, bright stars burned in the night, extra brilliant in the quiet darkness of the island.

For just a second, I thought it was beautiful, all those stars sparkling like we were deep in the thick of the Pasadena strip.

But this wasn't Pasadena.

And something was wrong.

"Royce," I said. "Help me."

"What is it? Are you okay?" Gavin said.

I knew he'd been awake that whole time, standing guard. He had to be exhausted. Royce stirred next to me—good that he got some rest, because this was not good.

Not good at all.

"What's going on?" Royce said, voice sleepy.

"I can't move my arms."

"Shit," he said.

I gritted my teeth. "Oh god, and it hurts. Worse than before."

"Damn it," Royce said. "This is exactly what I was afraid of."

Gavin turned on the flashlight, helping Royce dig through our supplies.

"What's happening?" Gavin said.

"Are you having trouble breathing?" Royce asked me.

He put his head on my chest, felt my neck for a pulse.

"No. Not yet. It just hurts. So much."

"Where?" he said.

"My hands, my arms. I can't move them, but it hurts."

"Okay. Just slow down. Breathe. I know it hurts, but this is actually better. It's a localized mesh attack. It sucks. But you're still breathing. And that's what's important."

"What do we do?" Gavin said. "How is she going to be able to fly the drones like this?"

Royce shushed him. "Don't make her panic anymore than she already is," he said quietly.

"I can hear that. My ears still work," I said.

"Jin, I need you to relax. The more stress hormones you squirt into your system, the worse it's going to get. Think of a peaceful place or something."

I tried to picture myself back in Jin Tower, playing a few hands of cards, but the pain was too much to ignore—I was stuck in this miserable body, on this miserable island, in these miserable, filthy clothes.

I groaned. "Not happening."

"I was afraid this might happen—I think the extra grace period from removing those chips is expiring," he said.

"Can you stop it?" I said.

He sighed. Long. That didn't sound very promising. "I'm going to try. It feels like it's all in your arms?"

"Yeah. Arms. Hands," I said. "Between that, and the pain from my collarbones, it would be great if you could just amputate my upper body. Thanks."

"That would solve some of your problems," Royce said.

"Not funny," Gavin said. "What can I do to help?"

"I'd say you should hold her hand, but she can't really feel it."

"Just. Sit by me," I said.

Gavin came up to my head, ran a hand through my hair, touched my cheek. That actually did help. I closed my eyes, and for a second I forgot what was happening.

"Keep doing whatever you're doing—she's breathing slower now. That's good," Royce said.

"Why. Does it hurt so bad?"

"Nerves are fighting back—means they're still alive. Just burns like hell," Royce said.

"I feel so lucky."

"Gavin, can you help her sit up? I don't have all the drugs we need, but I'm going to do what I can. There are some pills she needs to swallow. Try to hit the inflammation from a few angles."

Gavin sat behind me, and even with one arm easily pulled me into a sitting position. I bit my tongue and squinted my eyes with the movement, but it felt good to have him behind me, staying close.

"If we can't get into the factory tonight, then we need to start thinking of how to get off the island," Gavin said. "We can't stay here."

"I'll do whatever I can, then we just have to wait, see if she responds to the drugs," Royce said.

"It creeps me out when you talk about me like I'm not right here. I'm not dead yet," I said.

"Sorry," Royce said. "Part of the problem is that there's so much mesh in your arms and your fingers. Let me know if you start having vision problems again—that's the other place you've got concentrated mesh, but I can't safely do a retinal injection all the way out here."

The flashlight shone onto the floor where Royce was setting out piles of pills and syringes. Big, big syringes with big, big needles.

I couldn't stop my voice from shaking when I said, "What are you going to do?"

Gavin pulled me tighter with his good arm, like he didn't want to know the answer either.

"Try to hit this systemically with the oral medications and another spinal injection to keep the reaction from spreading. And...I'll try getting as much into your arms and fingers directly as possible. Not going to lie—that's going to hurt. I'll have to go deep to get close to the mesh, and start up higher where you have more sensation left.

I'm sorry."

I swallowed.

It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Twenty-Five

Hours later, and what felt like more needles than I'd ever been stabbed with in my entire life combined, and nothing.

My arms were still paralyzed.

Royce wiped tears from his face as he gave up and just gave me more pain medication to make me more comfortable.

I appreciated the drugs and the tears. I'd like to say I appreciated them equally, but really, let's get serious.

The drugs were better.

They weren't enough to make me forget that I was half-paralyzed and dying, but they sure did pour water on the burning nerve pain.

Royce sniffled and tried to hide it with a fake cough. "Is that better? I don't want to give you so much that you're totally gorked. I need you awake if there's any chance of this working."

"Better—this should help me concentrate. Can't think when I'm in pain. Sorry for making you cry," I said.

Royce hid his face. "I'm not crying. It's just really humid out here."

I almost laughed.

Almost.

But he hadn't given me that many drugs.

Then he surprised me, suddenly putting his arms around my waist, gently hugging me without squeezing my collarbones. I put my head on his shoulder, let him comfort me.

"I'm so sorry, Jin," he said, pulling back.

The real problem was, if Royce was crying, over me, then it was bad. I felt defeat descending again, like I'd finally reached the end of the line and the best I could hope for was a clean death. No more pain.

But were enough drugs left for Royce to euthanize me so that I wouldn't slowly suffocate to death when the mesh went for my diaphragm?

No.

Stop. I had to stop. Nothing good could come from that line of thinking.

I needed to concentrate. Part of this was going to rely on how well I could remotely fly a drone.

Using Royce's hands.

My eyes were still working. Even more importantly, the mesh in my eyes was still working at the right speed. Important, because I had to see ahead fast enough to compensate for Royce's slow reactions.

His hands had to be my hands.

"I'll get everything set up, and Jin can walk you through how to control these things. It's riskier, but if you can get at least half a dozen units flying at the same time, we might have a chance to disable the alarms before you set off the whole unit," Gavin said.

"And what if I can't?" Royce said.

"Then we run," I said. "Try to hide before security comes right for us."

"I've literally never touched a drone before," Royce said, sounding panicked.

"You're a surgeon. A good one. You've got plenty of speed and precision in your hands. You just have to apply it in a different way. I'll help you. We'll help you," Gavin said.

He said it so confidently that I almost believed it. Maybe it was possible. Maybe Royce could to guide the little insect drones without crashing and burning.

Gavin set up the drones, putting the bees on their little launch pad. Gavin put a visor over my eyes and then followed suit. When we were all ready to go, Gavin slapped the controller into one of Royce's huge hands.

"Ready?" Gavin said.

"As I'll ever be."

"Start with just a single drone, a single display. Once you get the hang of that, we can add drones until you're close enough to flying five in the same direction. Then we'll try splitting them off. I'll do my best to be your eyes," I said.

"Ready and waiting," Royce said.

"Okay, just put your hands on the top buttons—click them until you've only got one display, and one bee activated. You should see it in your visor, and feel it in your hands—there are haptics in the controller," I said.

"I see it. I don't feel it."

"Try harder. Part of being a good drone pilot is getting tactile feedback from the controller and responding to it instinctively."

I realized that I had never tried to teach anyone else how to fly. Or anything for that matter. I'm not much of a teacher. I'm more of a consumer and a business person. Commerce. That's what I knew. I just hoped Royce was a better learner than I was an instructor.

"Fuck," Royce said as the first bee immediately fell to the deck with a sad buzzing noise.

I flushed with frustration and an irrational surge of anger. Patience is not one of my virtues either. I wanted things, and I wanted them now.

I closed my eyes for a second and bit my tongue. Yelling at Royce was not going to help. He was already unraveling with the pressure and exhaustion. And if we made it inside the factory, I still had to rely on him to inject an industrial compound into my spinal column without it killing or permanently paralyzing me.

"It's okay. Just try it again," Gavin said, the voice of reason, per the usual.

Royce gave it another shot, and with a little more precise coaching, he managed to get the thing into the air, flying it around the gazebo without crashing it.

"Better. Much better," I said when he brought the bee safely back for a landing. "Now we go for two."

Royce let out a big sigh, and I could see the sweat on his forehead, even in the dim light. "This is literally harder than brain surgery."

"Good to know. I can feel even more awesome if I'm ever able to fly again," I said. "Also, I hope you're better at neurosurgery than you are at flying drones, otherwise I should be even more scared than I already am."

Royce just gave me a look, but Gavin smiled.

"Let's try the two bees while you've still got the muscle memory fresh in your hands," Gavin said.

And so it went, with many false starts and close calls, but eventually Royce improved, and he managed to get five bees in the air at the same time.

"You're not bad at this," Gavin said. "Given the circumstances."

"Thanks," Royce said.

"Don't let it go to his head. He's already full of himself. And his head's already pretty big too," I said.

"If you want to fly these things yourself, be my guest. Maybe you can learn to fly with your feet or something."

"Okay let's get you in the air again, this time Jin can try to help you fly in different directions," Gavin said, keeping us on track.

It took what seemed like an eternity of near-crashes and Royce needing to stop from dizziness a few times, but we got there. He couldn't track the bees himself visually, but with my cues, he flew all five of the bees in opposite directions, at the same time, and got them back without ruining the whole lot.

"Is this what life looks like for you, all the time?" Royce said after all the bees returned. He breathed heavy with the mental exertion.

"Fast, you mean?" I said.

"Yeah. I can't believe you flew a hundred of these things the other night," he said. "Too bad it's killing you—that mesh is extraordinary."

"Don't I know it. And yeah, I have to work at slowing down, not paying attention to every little detail all the time. Almost drove me crazy before I got better at controlling it."

The other question hung in the air between us—if this new coating worked to stop the mesh, it might save my life, but it also might permanently disable or impair the mesh.

I'd never be "normal" again.

I didn't have the energy to start mourning that loss.

First I needed to stay alive.

Gavin took off his visor and put his hand on Royce's shoulder. "Take a break. Have some water. Rest your eyes. Then I think it's time. You're ready."

I didn't have a watch, but I knew from the subtle way the sky was getting lighter that we were running out of time.

"Ready or not," I said. "Here we come."
Chapter Twenty-Six

The drones were in the air.

Even with Royce flying, and with so much at stake, I'd be lying to myself if I said that a part of me didn't enjoy the short journey. Under the stars, buzzing through the trees, watching all the stirrings in the forest—the ideal way enjoy nature. But within minutes, the bright glow of the factory appeared on the ridge.

No more room for errors.

"Alright, okay, you've got this, you've got this," I said as we got closer to the facility, the bees moving as one big easy pack through the night.

I don't know what I was expecting, but this wasn't it. I was imagining a big chrome monolith, churning out fumes into the humid evening, crowded with robots and other borgs pushing materials and waste around the perimeter.

In reality, it was nothing but a giant cement bunker plunked unceremoniously down on the edge of hilltop in the middle of a small clearing that overlooked the coast. That big ugly cement block held the key to possibly saving my life.

Or ending it once and for all.

I'd spent my life chasing the fantastic bright lights of the casino scene, and here it was: it all came down to a boring cement cube in the middle of nowhere.

"Follow my commands exactly," I said.

"You remember where, exactly, Alice said we needed to enter and disable the security devices?" he said.

I had the urge to tap my head to demonstrate that I had it all stored in memory, and was thoroughly weirded out when I found that I still couldn't move my arms.

Turns out, paralysis totally, totally sucks.

"Jin?" Gavin said. "What's wrong?"

"You ever try to touch your head and then realize that you're partially paralyzed?

"Oh," Royce said. "I'm so sorry—we're close. Just hang in there a little longer."

"I know," I said. "And to answer the question, yes I remember. I have an excellent graphic memory. I'm like a digital camera. I know where to go, I just hope you can follow me fast enough to get us there."

Royce shook his head. "I'm ready. Let's do this."

He was trying to pump himself up. And that wasn't like him.

That stoic bastard was scared.

Legitimately scared.

"If you're nervous, you'll never make it," I said. "Rule one of any competition. Never let them see you bluffing."

Gavin suddenly moved, quick, bridging the gap between him and Royce. Not as fast me, but damned if he wasn't swift. That's why he was dangerous.

You were dead before you even realized he'd moved.

I thought of what he'd be like if he'd ended up getting the mesh surgery too.

He'd be positively lethal.

I shivered.

He grabbed Royce's shoulders with both of his hands. Both of them.

"Jin will guide you. You will do this. You will be successful," Gavin said.

This time, I couldn't tell if it was more motivational or threatening.

"You just scared the shit out of me," Royce said. "I can't pay attention to the drone monitor if you're going to surprise me in real life."

Okay, so it was more threatening. I was flattered, but Royce also needed to be focused for this.

"Sorry," Gavin said.

"Also, did you just grab me with your broken hand?" Royce said.

Gavin didn't respond. I was better at watching the real life corner of the visor at the same time than either of them, so I knew that Gavin had ruined the sling.

"I can fix it myself. Just focus on flying," Gavin said.

"Fucking Christ, both of you are a handful," Royce said.

"Land the drones," I said.

"What?" Royce said.

"Land them. You're both agitated now. Calm down, then launch them again," I said.

"My fault," Gavin said. "She's right. Land them."

He followed my directions without further argument. Look at me being all reasonable. If I died tonight, then they'd at least remember me doing smart things, being all level-headed.

Maybe I was learning something from all this.

Then I got antsy waiting for Royce to get this head together.

The silent darkness was unnerving—without the drones moving, it felt like we were lost in the night again.

Well, I was still learning. Small improvements.

"I'm ready. Let's do this before I go blind and there's no way of pulling this off," I said.

"You're so good at giving pep talks," Royce said. "Maybe we should leave those to Gavin from now on."

"We're going to do this. Jin's going to be cured. Royce is going to learn from the procedure. I get to keep Jin. We all get back off the island safely. That's what's going to happen," Gavin said.

"You really are good at that," I said. "The pep talks."

Royce didn't even respond. He kicked the drones into gear and brought them off the ground, in formation again.

"I'm ready," Royce said. "Guide my hands."

He pushed the launch button, and we soared into the sky, so smooth, I was deceived—almost like I was piloting the drones myself.

Then again, the swarm was flying all as one.

We hadn't broken it apart yet.

We breached the perimeter.

"I'm going to give you commands. Very fast. I'll try to do it as far ahead as possible. Do your best to keep up, and I'll try to monitor your responses, not get ahead of you," I said.

"Go," he said.

And we did. We flew through the factory, bonded into this strange team, moving together, me the eyes, and Royce the body. We zoomed through tiny portals, flew over vats of bubbling liquid, ducked through noisy metal ducts, and shimmied into cracks never meant to be violated.

We were in.

It was working.

Drone one went to it's designated spot.

Drones two and three made it.

Then four.

Finally five were there.

The squad was reduced from what Alice recommended. Far reduced. Her original plans would have disabled the entire factory. And that would have required at least twenty drones in place, more to be certain. I could have flown all hundred drones through the factory and systematically shut the whole thing down, definitively.

What we'd have access to now was just a tiny quadrant of the factory.

Precarious.

At best.

"This is it," I said. "All five of them have to move at exactly the same time to shut off this sector. If we miss one...I'm not sure what will happen, to be honest, but I don't want to find out."

"Me either," said Royce.

"It's going to be faster than anything we've done so far. Prepare yourself," I said. "When you're ready, give me a signal."

I closed my eyes. Several seconds of silence, and I felt every bit of humidity, all the heat, all the bugs, the air heavy with summer wetness and forest funk, and on top of it all, my arms, painful and numb at the same time. All the consequences pressing at my mind, reminding me how much was at stake.

"Go," Royce said.

I flicked open my eyes, willing my retinas, my brain, the stupid mesh to react as fast as possible, to stay two steps ahead of Royce, and two steps ahead of my mouth as I tried to give him instructions, tell him what buttons to push.

I almost yelled as all the grids started to fall, but I bit my tongue. Drone one. Drone two. Drone three. Drone four. They all hit their marks, dead on, in perfect synchrony. Magic. Utterly perfect.

Gavin threw up his hands in triumph.

Drone five.

Drone five.

I screamed at Royce.

Screamed at him.

My voice rang out into the forest, bouncing off trees and echoing over the valley.

But it wasn't enough.

Seconds too late.

My attention divided between real life and the display, still fast enough to watch it all in horrible detail: I watched as Royce's thumb slipped off the left touch pad, just a second too late, barely missing its final mark.

And that was it.

The fifth drone crashed, quietly whacking into a steel wall at speeds far too fast for it to survive.

On the display, we watched it all fall apart.

Drone five was dead.

Sector five was active.

None of us dared to speak, waiting for alarms to sound.

Still.

Nothing.

Silence.

The fifth drone was dead, but no alarms sounded, no catastrophe loomed, no security force, bionic or cyborg streamed out of the walls.

It was quiet. Ready.

Ready for us to invade.

"What just happened?" Gavin said.

"Royce missed a crucial cue. Drone five is dead, but nothing happened," I said.

Royce was silent, and in my other display, I saw his motionless body—tense, frozen.

Angry.

I didn't have to ask. He was angry at himself. Royce, for as much as I hassled him, was a perfectionist. He wasn't used to screwing up on anything.

"Royce," I said. "It's okay. It was an unrealistic task. You achieved the nearly impossible. That section is disabled. I honestly didn't think we'd even make it past the front door."

"Doesn't matter. I lost," Royce said.

"Don't be a moron," Gavin said. "I get it. Jin and I are both obsessive. We watch details. We don't accept failure. But in this case, that's not the goal. The only thing that matters is whether Jin lives or dies. And I know for you, that has other meanings. Whether you're a good doctor. Whether it meant something for your friend to die. Whether there's hope for all the other hundreds of people with implant malfunctions. So much is riding on this for you, or there's absolutely no way you'd be out here, in the middle of a godforsaken island, risking your life for someone you've only known for a few months."

Oh, crap. Gavin wasn't fooling around. Laying the smack down.

Also, I hoped Royce wasn't pissed at me for sharing the story about his dead friend. I mean, really, at this point, secrets were just stupid, right?

Maybe we'd leave that conversation for another day...if I had another day.

"It's my fault too. I didn't stay far enough ahead of you. I was a second behind your reaction time. You're a doctor. You know. There's only so much that's humanly possible. I'm augmented. I'm working on the level above, and I didn't leave enough time for you to translate that into human movements," I said.

"Doesn't matter. I still fucked up," he said.

I held back another wave of disgustingly mingled emotions. In the end, it was me who was going to lose out the most. Not sure why I cared so much about Royce's feelings in the meantime.

"Well, lucky for you, it doesn't matter whose fault it is. The big consequence of the night—it goes to me. I'm the one that gets to die for my sins."

"No!" Gavin said. "Both of you. Shut up. We disabled the part of the factory we need to enter. Correct? We just need to be careful not to wander past that very small section. We can't look for equipment to help Alice's heart. We find that chemical. We fix Jin. We get out."

"We have another issue," I said. "Time. Since we didn't disable the entire factory, it's all droid-regulated. Like Alice said, at sunrise, it's going to kick into gear again. All normal cycles will restart. If we're not out, there's going to be a huge reckoning."

Gavin pulled off his visor and started shoving stuff into our bags with his good hand, his other hand still hanging loose, probably painful as heck without anything to support it.

"Fine," he said. "We move. We move now. We move fast. There's still time before dawn. If we can make it through the woods without hitting any traps, then we'll be in the clear. Royce will still have time to do your surgery. As long as we get out of the factory before the following work cycle starts, we should be able to escape."

I wanted to believe him so much that I didn't mention all the other problems. What if the treatment started killing me? What if we couldn't get into the material in the first place? Even if everything else went fine, how were we going to get off the island? We were desperately low on supplies, and as far as we knew, our boat wasn't sea-worthy. Since we couldn't disable the factory's day cycle, there was no time collect supplies or make contact with Alice.

But other than that, it was totally a fool-proof plan.

"Okay," Royce said. "We've come this far. I won't give up. I'll do whatever I can to get into that factory and find that fucking compound. Now, the other problem is, how do we move Jin? I hate to admit it, but I'm so drained, I don't think I can carry her and all of our supplies fast enough to beat the time clock. I workout a lot, but none of my training prepared me for something like this."

"I can carry her," Gavin said.

"You've only got one arm. That's not going to work. You need to keep that arm still, unless you want to lose it," Royce said.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Gavin said.

No hyperbole. He would chop off his own arm to save me, and I felt disgustingly undeserving of that kind of loyalty.

"I can walk. I think. Just don't let me fall on my face—can't catch myself with no arms," I said.

"I'll keep an arm around her, make sure she doesn't trip," Royce said. "You walk out front. Keep that knife ready in case anyone sneak attacks us from the bushes. It would be a bummer to get caught right at the last minute, after all of this."

"Of all the things we need to worry about, getting jumped in the bushes is not one of them," Gavin said. "No one will make it past me."

Royce finally took off his visor, put it in the final pile of stuff they had to haul through the woods. With my broken collarbones and paralyzed arms, I was essentially extra baggage. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I felt embarrassed that I couldn't help carry the load.

They were both risking everything for me, and I was nothing but an armless piece of dead weight.

"This is it," Royce said. "Jin. All I can say is that I'm amazed. I don't mean to scare you, but you should be dead. You should have been dead weeks ago. You should be dead right now. And you know it. But you're not. And that's not something I can't take credit for. You're alive because you're strong. You're stubborn, you're annoying, and you're spoiled, but goddamn it you're strong. And if you die before I can get you into that fucking factory, I'll strangle you with my own bare hands."

In the dim light, I stared at them both, Gavin, shocked at Royce's speech, Royce full of adrenaline and emotions that I couldn't process.

All I could do was nod.

"I'm not giving in the towel until I stop breathing. Lead the way. I walk until I'm totally paralyzed," I said, and it was the truth.

Into the night.

And into the unknown.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

So much had gone into this moment. All this risk, all those disasters, and every little thing we'd suffered through, just so we could be here, standing inside a dim concrete slab, surrounded by pipes, steaming vats, and humming electricity. And it was sweltering, sticky and awful in a very ugly way.

"I can't believe it. We're here. We got in," I said.

I sounded happy, but now the real terror gripped me.

I didn't want to die in a dingy factory on a tiny island, so far away from my dog and my beloved tower.

"We can't just fly another set of drones in here, finish shutting things off?" Royce said.

"No," I said. "That's part of the problem. One shot deal. Everything has to be done simultaneously. If we try to shut anything else down, then we'll trigger the whole mess."

"I hate myself a little right now," Royce said. "Where we need to go is right on the edge of the zones we shut down."

"Good thing you cleared a path—we can still get there," Gavin said. "We just need to walk carefully."

A weird sensation made it's way to my eyes, making me feel like I was looking at everything through a tunnel. Then I fell to my knees, head touching the hot cement floor, filled with incredible pain that shot up through my legs and into my head, stabbing behind my retinas.

I opened my eyes.

And it was black. I thought we'd triggered something in the factory, plunging us into darkness.

"Jin!" Royce yelled.

They were both beside me. I knew, because I could feel and hear them.

But I couldn't see anything.

"I'm blind,' I said. "And it hurts so bad again. Worse than before."

"Fuck," Royce said. "We need to move. Now."

Gavin scooped me up, and I felt him using both hands to put me over his shoulder. Even in my own agony, I worried about his hand.

"Hang on Jin. I can't stop to medicate you. I'll sedate you when we start, I promise. Just don't give up. We need you awake."

I'd only gone blind one other time, when this all first started happening, before Royce was treating me. I forgot how absolutely terrifying it was.

We dashed through hallways, the air getting thicker, heavier, hotter, as I bounced on Gavin's shoulder.

"Stop," Royce said. "It's just over there, on the other side of that hallway."

"Whatever you do, don't touch the right side—hug the wall. That side is still active," Gavin said.

They slowed, crawling along the hallway, my legs brushing against the wall.

"Okay. Through that door, then set her down right near that big tank. That's where we need to be," Royce said.

I heard a door handle turn, some heavy metal door slowly creaking open.

And then it slammed shut.

Alarms rang, shrieking through my skull, but I couldn't raise my hands to cover my ears.

"What? No. No! This shouldn't be happening," Gavin said.

A pungent scent cut through all the factory odors.

"What is that?" I yelled.

"Gas. Some kind of vapor," Royce said as Gavin's legs buckled beneath us.

My head hit the floor, bitter fumes flooding my lungs.

This whole time I'd been wondering what death would taste like.

I finally had my answer.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

When I woke up, it smelled good. Like...hot waffles and fresh coffee at one of the cafes in Jin Tower.

Not a bad vision of heaven, but I was pretty sure I wasn't dead.

And I definitely wasn't inside that factory anymore. The temperature was perfect, and I was laying on something very soft.

I opened my eyes, thinking I had to be hallucinating. Surrounded by feather pillows and quilts embroidered with gold and silver threads, I sprawled across an oversized bed. The big room wasn't my style—looked old European with all the dark antique wood, big pieces of furniture, and plush Persian rugs everywhere, but it was certainly expensive.

So I wasn't dead.

And I wasn't in a hospital.

And I wasn't blind.

I sat up.

Not dead, okay, but I still hadn't ruled out the hallucination option.

Then I noticed that I was hooked up to equipment—IV lines in my arms, things clipped to my fingers and strapped to my chest. Bandages covered my collarbones again, but my arms were free, and I could move my hands again without trouble. No paralysis.

But I felt floaty, lightheaded, disconnected.

Drugs.

So if this was real, then where were Royce and Gavin?

One way to find out. Someone was paying to keep me in this fancy room.

"Hello?" I called out. "Is anyone there?"

There were windows on the wall behind me—if nothing else, it was good to know I wasn't in a basement somewhere. Last thing I needed was to be held captive in some dungeon.

Someone knocked on the door. Knocked.

Like it was my room or something.

"Um, come in?" What else was I supposed to say? Come back later...I'm busy?

The door opened, and a very tall Korean man entered. Okay, so odds were that I was still in Korea. More pieces of the puzzle.

"Ah, you're awake. That's fantastic news," he said. "How are you feeling?"

Then something clicked. I knew where I was.

Seoul.

I was in Seoul.

In one of the buildings owned by the Chaebol. I'd been in this room before. It used to belong to one of the heads of the company.

Oh. Shit.

So we had been caught. Panic gripped me by the throat, and the heart monitor beside me beeped faster, my fear made audible.

So much for playing it cool.

He wore a grey wool suit in a military style, buttoned all the way up his neck. His hair was slicked back, but puffed up in front in a low pompadour.

"Relax. Don't get yourself worked up. You were in really rough shape when we brought you in. Take it easy," he said in Korean, coming to stand at the foot of my bed.

He looked so familiar. I stared at him, searching my memory, trying to think of how I knew him. As far as I knew, all the main shareholders and staff in the Chaebol had been murdered.

I tried to calm myself down just because the heart monitor made it so terribly obvious that I was freaking out. This was the enemy, and I was already in a vulnerable position. No need to make it worse.

"Oh my god. Tae-min," I said.

He laughed. "You remembered me. Didn't think you would," he said.

"You've grown up."

He smiled. "So have you. Funny how time will do that. Seems that you're just as mischievous as ever, though. And just as lovely. I was sorry to see you weren't doing so well. Sorrier than you might know."

As the head of the company's nephew, he was being groomed to become one of the head researchers in the bioscience division of the company. He'd help do things to me. Things I didn't want to remember. Now somehow, he was still alive, and I was back in his grasp again.

The day wasn't looking quite so rosy anymore.

"I thought you were dead," I said. I sounded disappointed, which probably wasn't great.

He smirked. "I should be. For a few reasons." He tapped his chest. "Getting shot in the heart can cause problems. Needed a lot of spare parts to put me back together again."

My eyes got big. Since he had been closer to my age than the other scientists involved in the mesh project, they used him to get close to me.

He held my hand as I screamed, but not once did he ever try to save me.

And for that, I don't think I could ever forgive him, but it left me with bizarre mixed feelings. He'd been a source of comfort and betrayal. I'd mourned his passing—he'd been in the list of lives lost in the massacre—and I'd put all those feelings behind me.

I guess I'd buried them a little too soon.

"You always were a survivor," I said.

"So were you. You were quite a mess when they pulled you out of that factory. Dehydrated, low blood sugar, broken collarbones, highly compromised neural function. From our scans, you were probably blind and barely breathing before the security system knocked you out."

"You know exactly what I was doing down there, why I was in that state," I said.

He frowned. "Yes, unfortunately, I do. I very much do. I'm sorry it came to that," he said. "But I'm not sorry you're back. I missed you."

I'd always suspected he had feelings for me, beyond whatever false friendship we'd constructed, but I wasn't interested, then or now.

"My friends. Where are they?" I said.

He put up his hands. "I can understand your concern. I'm sure that was a very dramatic night. But don't worry. They're still down on the island, safe and sound. That gas is fatal eventually if you aren't given a reversal agent, but you were all extracted and treated in time. You can return with your friends once we have what we need from you."

What they needed from me.

Of course they wanted something.

They always wanted something.

Usually that something was made out of flesh and blood.

"I remember one of them. Gavin Kwon. He was one of us, too," he said.

"Not by choice. None of us were here by choice. Including you."

"We all have unpleasant obligations in life. That's just how it is," he said. "Gavin also wasn't in good shape. His hand was severely injured. I know what happened to your collarbones—you're missing your marrow tags, and I can see you had your retinas temporarily altered for the same reason, but what happened to his hand?"

"Crushed in the shipwreck. I'm sure you found our boat," I said.

"Clever—would have been a great way to breach the island if not for the typhoon. No wonder you were all so dehydrated. Must have been quite the hike."

"You have no idea.

"They're being well-cared for. Don't worry. They'll both be fine. As long as you cooperate."

"You always were great with the subtlety," I said.

"I'm just upfront. I thought you appreciated that in a man," he said.

The emphasis on man let me know that our old problem still existed. No idea how or why he'd still find me sexy, all torn up and half dead, but some crushes die hard.

"What did you do to me?" I said.

"Saved your life. You were really close to death, in case there was any doubt. You're lucky we found you. I know what you were planning to do—that compound is indeed the same coating that's on our mesh, but it wouldn't have worked. Even if you hadn't died in the process of injecting it, it won't stick to the mesh. The underlying substrate has to be cleaned with a solvent before the compound will adhere. And that solvent is highly toxic. You can't do it inside your body—it had to be done before the mesh was implanted. Trust me. But it was a good idea, to be sure. I thought of the same thing, at one point. All experiments failed with...rather unfortunate results."

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean, our mesh?"

He smiled, cleared his throat. "I don't want to strip you of the glory, but you weren't the final reason for my uncle's rampage. I was. After you escaped, he figured he'd try one more time to find another subject that might take the mesh successfully."

"You. He tried to put the mesh in his own nephew?"

He cocked his head. "You know my uncle was not a delicate man. You might call him bold, I suppose."

"I call him a total sadistic whack job."

"That's one way to characterize it. I certainly retain no positive feelings towards him."

"So what happened? Why go crazy if the mesh took to you? You're obviously still alive, even after getting shot. All the other mesh test subjects died," I said.

My friends.

All my friends died.

Being back here again unlocked a whole rotten treasure chest of dead people I'd been trying to keep buried at sea for the last two decades.

My heart rate jumped again.

"Don't get yourself too worked up, or we'll have to continue this conversation later," he said.

"No. Tell me now. I need to know."

He sighed. "Just take it easy. Everything is going to be okay. You're back where you're supposed to be."

If I didn't have a heart monitor telling me that my heart was still beating, I would have sworn it stopped. Creepy. To the max.

This was the last place on earth I wanted to be right now.

"How are you still alive, if the mesh didn't take well?"

"I shouldn't be alive. After it was clear I was starting to reject the mesh, that's when my uncle went insane, and the shooting spree happened. But I was only just starting to reject the mesh—without intervention I probably could have lived another few years before it killed me. You remember how it was."

I did.

And I really wished I didn't.

It was a slow, painful death.

I'd watched so many people slowly slip away, and the whole time I just waited, wondering when it would be my turn.

Didn't catch up with me for another twenty years, but here I was, the grim reaper finally nipping at my heels.

"I was one of a handful of people that survived the shooting—like I said, I've got a lot of implants keeping my heart beating."

Distantly, I wondered what they were, and if there was anything there that might help Alice. But if Tae-min had the same implants Alice was using, he was about to have another problem.

Would serve him right.

I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to reveal anything about Alice. It went without saying that Tae-min couldn't be trusted.

"If it was early—does that mean you were able to have it removed before the nerves fused?" I said.

"No. It was already too late. As I'm sure you've found out, once it's in there, it's basically impossible to remove."

"So you still have the mesh. But you're alive. And as far as I can tell, you're not paralyzed or blind."

Maybe Tae-min wasn't just a useless creep after all.

He might be a useful creep instead.

"I've been having the same problems you have. But I'm not a natural host for it like you are—I've been trying to find a cure for this for years. So far, everything is just a temporary fix, and there are side effects. It's just a game of cat and mouse. One thing stops working, or the side effects become intolerable, and I have to try something else. I'm sure you've been experiencing something similar. I'm lucky that I have a large sum of funds to throw at the problem, otherwise I definitely would have been dead."

Of all the people in the world that I had to feel a bizarre bond with, the only other person on earth that knew what it was like to be going through this, and it just had to be Tae-min.

"I take it with everyone else dead, you were the natural heir to the leftover Chaebol fortune," I said.

"A small convenience, yes, and despite the big collapse, there was plenty left to build things back up again. It's not as big as it was when we were teenagers, but it's more than adequate for my needs," he said.

"So what did you do to me?" I said.

He nodded at my chest. "Your collarbones needed surgery again. Not letting your collarbones heal long enough from the first surgery caused some damage, but it was actually convenient for us—never would have been able to safely transport you here, to Seoul, with those marrow tags in. You've still got a big warrant out for your arrest," he said.

"I'm well aware," I said. "What else."

"I put you on the same drug regimen that I'm on, and it appears to be working. But I'll tell you—you can't stay on it for long. I use it when the flare-ups are especially bad, but you'll have to cycle off it again soon, which means your symptoms will come back. It's not a pleasant way to live," he said.

"Why didn't you ever try to contact me? I'm not exactly low-profile," I said.

"Would you have come, met up with me voluntarily if I'd contacted you? Even if I had a cure that might available soon?" he said.

"No," I said instantly.

"I wanted to wait until I had something definite, something you couldn't refuse."

That was a lie. A big one. He didn't want me to know that he was still alive, that the Chaebol had quietly resurrected.

He'd been planning on kidnapping me this whole time.

That truth hung between us, stale and bitter.

As the heir to billions, he was used to getting what he wanted, just like me. But unlike me, he'd do whatever he could to get his way. No matter the cost.

"Which means you don't have anything definite," I said.

He had something experimental.

And he needed something to test it on.

I suddenly felt like I'd sprouted whiskers. There was only one lab rat in the room, and it was definitely me.

"I have something that's almost ready. I have confidence that with two of us now, back together, living through the same fate, we can find a way to fix this mess," he said.

I felt cold all over.

"You should rest more before we get into any details. That last surgery wasn't that long ago, and we still need to see if you develop any immediate side effects from the drug regimen. Are you hungry?"

"I want to talk to Gavin," I said.

"Patience. Let's get you something to eat first. Then we can talk some more and discuss certain...conditions. Are you comfortable? Once you were stable, I thought this would be nicer than stuffing you into one of the hospital wings. Less shocking," he said.

He was right about that. Waking up on a hospital slab right back in the same place where I'd been tortured for years would have sent me straight into a panic. In his weird, twisted way, he still cared about me.

I just nodded, didn't want him to feel too good about himself.

"Good. I thought you might like my bedroom."

"This is your bedroom now?" I said.

He shrugged. "It was the nicest one in this facility, and this is our main base of operations, now that some of the smaller business branches have fallen away. Thought it would be nice to keep you comfortable. And close to me. I just moved into the suite across the hall."

He had me locked in his bedroom. I was sleeping in his sheets.

The symbolism. It was not lost on me. Not one bit.

"How thoughtful of you." I managed to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I think. One thing I remembered was Tae-min fragility. Being unusually tall and awkward for his age, he'd always been self-conscious, and that gangly shyness could turn to rage at a moment's notice. I needed to avoid provoking that.

Seeing as how Royce and Gavin's lives might both depend on it, I needed to watch own temper.

"How are your pain levels?" he said

"Fine, actually. Whatever you've got me on, it's working," I said.

"Good. After a big attack like that, I'm sure you've noticed that there can be a lot of residual pain. Unfortunately, that can also be a side effect of the treatment we're using right now. I found that out the hard way. I wanted to spare you that, if possible. If I were you, I wouldn't get any bright ideas and pull out your IV lines. I did that once, and I highly regretted it," he said. "Worse than being shot in the chest, just to give you an idea."

That was the other horrible part of this situation. Escape. How could I even consider it? There were so many things in the way. I had no money with me, no identification. If they had recovered my false ID tag necklace, I had no idea where they might be storing it. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if it had made it through the shipwreck—it had been such a low priority at the time. If I somehow made it out into the streets of Seoul, I couldn't go anywhere without being picked up by security for missing marrow tags.

Then there was Gavin and Royce. I wouldn't even let myself entertain the idea that they were dead—made much more sense to keep them alive, use them as blackmail tools. Holding them hostage was a convenient way of making sure that I'd behave.

And then worst of all, even if I could overcome the other two problems, there was one big problem that I had no idea how to overcome:

My own body.

Everything we'd been doing had been doomed to failure.

Without access to Royce, there was no way to discuss other options. Maybe there was no plan B, and dealing with Tae-min really was my best shot for survival.

Somehow, I didn't believe it.

Tae-min wanted to save himself, and he'd sacrifice me to do it. Especially since I had zero intent of returning his eternally unrequited affection for me. I'd rather be married to Royce for the rest of eternity.

"I'll stay put," I said. "But if I don't get to talk to Gavin and Royce soon, all bets are off. If they're dead, I'll destroy myself just to make sure you follow in my footsteps."

I meant it. I meant it hard. If Tae-min killed Gavin, I had zero qualms about indirectly shoving him headfirst into a very deep grave.

I thought he'd be annoyed, but he didn't seem to care that I'd just threatened him—probably still all glowing about how he'd finally gotten me in his bed.

"Excellent. I'll send for breakfast—you can probably smell the staff cooking already. Do you still like French pastries?" he said.

At least there was that. I might back in the clutches of the damned Chaebol, but at least I got to have my cake.

And you can be sure that I was going to eat the damned thing.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I sat back on the extra fluffy pillows, closing my eyes.

The urge to flee was strong.

I'd broken into this building before. I knew the ways out, all the shortcuts, all the passageways. I could rip off these wires and be gone in minutes.

But it would be hard in my current condition, and all the other barriers made it too risky. No good choice but to stay in my place, cross my fingers, hope for a miracle.

I just wasn't that patient.

The door opened again, and a cart filled with steaming coffee and dozens of plates nudged into the room.

As the person pushing it came into view, I froze.

And I started questioning everything again.

Did I have brain damage?

Because there was no mistaking it. Standing in front of me:

Etienne.

My Etienne.

Her hair was the same light lemon hue, the color of sunshine.

I used to call her my daisy.

And she was supposed to be dead.

"Hi there, I'm head of hospitality. I've brought a special selection for you, courtesy of Mr. Park. I think you'll..." She stopped when she saw me and dropped the coffee pot.

I wasn't imagining it. She recognized me.

"Jinny. My god," she said. "Is that you?"

She was the only person I let call me Jinny. Her and her alone.

I swallowed. "Etienne. How...just. How?"

She shut the door behind her and locked it. Not sure how effective that would be in a facility like this, but I liked the sentiment.

The last thing I wanted was for Tae-min to come storming in.

Stepping over the spilled pot of coffee, she dashed to my side, and we stared at each other like a pair of ghosts.

She looked spectacular, just as beautiful as I remembered. More beautiful. Her short hair curled down along her jawline, and a pink ribbon held it in place. An adorable sheer white dress came to her knees, the top layer made of lace with a flower motif dancing over the surface. Pink lipstick. Creamy skin. No eye makeup.

She was perfect.

Meanwhile, I was sure I looked awful. If my face looked anything like the rest of me, I was a complete mess. Not exactly how I'd dreamed of us being reunited—I'd had those fantasies too many times to count, but I never believed they'd come true. Dead usually meant dead. So far, technology hadn't been able to solve that problem.

"I thought you were dead. Oh god, what happened to you?" she said, moving closer, reaching towards my hand but stopping just before touching me, like I might shatter and disappear.

"Does Tae-min know about us?" I said.

She furrowed her slender eyebrows. "No. Why? What does Tae-min have to do with this? I'm so confused."

I looked around, not convinced that the whole place wasn't wired for sound and video. "Do you know where he is?" I whispered.

"He went to lie down. He's not feeling well...he's ill."

Tae-min and I met after Etienne was removed from the program, when I thought she'd been sent to her death. He'd never seen us together, but I knew that when he did, there would be trouble. Jealousy can make a person do crazy things.

"Okay. We have some time then," I said.

Where the heck did I start?

I'd just figured out how to begin when she leaned down and kissed me—grabbed me with both hands, her warm fingers grabbing my cheeks, soft lips pressed to mine.

Without thinking, I curled my hands around her waist, pulling her delicate body into mine.

"I'm so sorry," she said, pulling back. "Did I hurt you?"

I shook my head. "I'm on so many drugs, I can't feel anything. I mean...I felt that. I'm...not in pain right now."

Tripping over my words—not like me, and what I said wasn't entirely true. My body didn't hurt, but my heart felt like it was going to explode with some untenable mixture of joy, sorrow, and longing.

Neither of us was dead, but I could have died from the shock.

I was rich. I'd been rich for a long time. I could buy any woman that I wanted, but none of it meant anything.

This whole time, all I wanted was her.

"We need to talk. Quickly. In case Tae-min wakes up," I said. "There are cameras in here, right?"

She nodded. "Almost certainly. Why is that a problem? Why are you so afraid of Tae-min? He's the one that saved me."

I closed my eyes—couldn't look at her and think straight. I wanted to stand up and hug her until my collarbones popped out of my chest again, but the clock was ticking.

"I'll start. Try to explain what happened. Then you. I want to know how you survived," I said.

She sat on the edge of the bed, both of her hands wrapped around one of mine. Warm, gentle, but strong.

I started from when we last saw each other, before we were split off, before they'd started experimenting on me in earnest. The last time we'd held hands.

Before today.

"So that's it," I said when I'd spat out the whole story. "I've been sitting here, trying to figure out how to survive."

Tears slipped out of her eyes, rolling past her petite nose. "Jinny. No," she said. Then, quietly, "You're dying."

"Don't cry," I said.

But it did seem like a good time to cry. She wasn't wrong, but I should have lied. She'd found me after all these years, only to learn that she might lose me just as quickly.

"Tae-min," she said. "He has the exact same problem. He can help you. You can still live. He's my friend."

Her friend? Oh Christ.

"Tell me," I said. "Tell me why you're still here."

She put her head down for a second. "It's not complicated. I didn't qualify for the implants. I wasn't a candidate. The Chaebol...you know what they usually did to people that weren't useful to them."

"But you survived. Where were you all that time?"

"I...was a servant. They kept me because I had cooking skills." She pointed back at the tray of warm pastries by the door. "You know. I've always been good at baking."

I did know. I'd developed a taste for French cooking from her. She was Korean, but born in France—her parents worked for another big company. Eun-mi "Etienne" Choi, she'd always asked me to call her by her French name. Before the burst riots, her parents split their time between Paris, Seoul, and L.A. During the burst riots, her parents died and she was left with me, alone on the streets of K-Town. I'd taken her into our group, tried to protect her, but ultimately, we'd all been sold to the Chaebol.

From there, I couldn't even protect myself.

"So that whole time, you were spared?" I said.

She nodded. "I was told you died in the experiments. And then, after the massacre, I didn't know what to do. I was poor. I was about to be homeless again. Then Tae-min, he came in and pulled the company back together. He put me in charge of hospitality. Gave me my own staff. Made me another leader in the new company. It's not like it was before. I'm in control of all food and catering for a huge section of the city. If you lived here...you'd probably have heard I was alive."

She was part of the Chaebol. Of her own free will. Stockholmed. Totally sympathetic to Tae-min.

Crap.

"I'm so sorry, but you're wrong. He's going to kill me," I said.

She stood up.

"I love you. I've always loved you. And I still can't believe you're not just a ghost. You have to trust me. Tae-min is a good person. He's gone through so much, and he's given me everything I wanted and more. I know he's going to help you. From what you've said, he's the reason you're still alive. I'm just so glad you survived," she said.

What could I do? Part of me thought that holding her again was worth anything.

The other part of me knew I had a huge problem.

Etienne wasn't going to help me escape.

Everything I'd ever wanted was right in the palm of my hand, but there was a clock ticking.

How many hours before I died from one of Tae-min's experiments?

I sat up, tried to swing my legs off the bed, and failed.

"Please. Don't get up—you'll hurt yourself. You need to rest. Let me feed you?" she said. "That's what I came here for."

I grabbed my stomach. My mouth watered. She made the most amazing food when we were younger, and now her cooking had to be even better.

How could I refuse?

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" she said.

"I don't remember."

She came back to me again, caressing my cheek. "I can't believe this is happening. Let's eat. Let me take care of you. Then you should rest, and I promise I'll figure this out. You're safe now. You're with me."

I wanted so badly to believe her. And at the moment, what else could I do?

Why not participate in a little fantasy?

If this was one of my last days on earth, it could have been worse. Far worse. I could have died back in that horrible factory.

She wheeled over the cart of food, and it smelled even more amazing as it got closer. Waffles, croissants, cookies, different types of cakes, and other fusion items that were somewhere between French and Korean pastries.

"Eat with me," I said. "I'm not sure how much I can handle, and I'd hate to waste all of this."

"Sorry I spilled the coffee. I can't think of anything I was expecting less than seeing you in this room. Tae-min just told me I had a sick VIP that I needed to take good care of."

I smirked. "Guess he didn't realize we were an item at one point."

What an understatement. I'd loved her since I was old enough to understand what love was.

"We have a lot to sort out. Let's just take it one step at a time," she said.

I couldn't decide what to eat first, so she fed me little bits of everything on the cart. With all my money, I'd never been able to find someone that could bake like Etienne.

She giggled.

"What?" I said.

"Can't help it, I've always loved watching you eat."

I smiled, and it felt like we were teenagers again. My body sure felt like it was still a teenager.

"Come lay next to me?" I said. "I can't eat any more."

She bit her lip. "I won't hurt you?"

I shook my head. "Not touching you for another second will hurt more."

She climbed onto the bed next to me, gently sliding her arm beneath my shoulders, pulling my head into the crook of her neck. She smelled amazing, like cupcakes and strawberries.

"If I'm dreaming," I said. "Never wake me up."

She pulled me tighter, brushed my hair aside, kissed my forehead. "I can't believe it either. I just feel so bad. I didn't qualify for that experiment, and I was fine. I wish I'd been with you through everything."

"It wasn't all bad. For most of the last few decades, I've lived a very good life. I have my own empire in America," I said.

"That doesn't surprise me one bit. You always were unstoppable," she said. "I never would have survived without you."

We sat in silence, and I started drifting off, cuddled into her warm embrace.

Faintly, something buzzed in her pocket.

"Drat. I have to go. Tae-min is calling me back," she said. "I need to talk to him anyway. Get to the bottom of this. Don't worry. I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise."

She leaned over one last time, kissing me on the mouth, one hand behind my head, pulling me into her.

I could have lived in that moment forever, but eventually it had to stop.

"Don't go," I said.

She squeezed my hand one last time. "I'll be back soon. I promise. Everything is going to be okay. I'll talk to Tae-min. He's already giving you all the best treatments. He even gave you his bedroom, and asked me to come here personally. I've never seen that before."

Arguing with her was no use. For some reason, she couldn't see Tae-min for what he really was. What else could I do?

I smiled, trying to savor the good parts of the moment, but when she left it felt like all the sunshine had left my life.

All that was remained were Tae-min's black clouds.
Chapter Thirty

It felt like I'd just closed my eyes when Tae-min came back into the room.

"Where's Etienne?" I said.

"Taking care of some things," he said. "She's a busy woman. She runs a whole branch of this company now. Didn't realize you knew each other."

Cold ate through my veins. He'd seen the security footage.

"I want to talk to Gavin. And Royce," I said. "And if anything happens to Etienne, the same rule applies. I will not help you. I'll do whatever I can to ruin your experiments, even if it means my death."

He clucked his tongue. "So negative. We're having reception problems, so I can't let you talk with them right now, but I can show you that they're alive on a CCTV feed. Just a moment."

Turning around, he pulled out a tablet and clicked the screen. Closed circuit footage of a small, cement-lined room appeared on the tablet. Gavin was sprawled on the ground while Royce hovered over him, doing something to his hand.

"You son of a bitch," I said. "You haven't given them medical attention."

"Look closer. They were given supplies. I'm sure your other friend is a competent doctor."

"Gavin needs to be in a hospital, and you know it," I said.

"There's more storm activity down there. We can't move anyone yet. Be patient. We'll make sure nothing bad happens. You should just focus on relaxing."

"What are you going to do to me?" I said.

"Today? Nothing. I want to make sure you've recovered from the last surgery, and verify that the mesh flare up has totally cooled down again before the next procedure. I hope you ate enough—you'll need to fast overnight."

Next procedure.

Tomorrow.

"I'll ask you again: what are you going to do to me?"

"I've been working on something. It's a chip—a network of circuits actually. I see you removed the original ones that my uncle put in your ankles. Smart. I had mine removed too—they were part of the problem. They were supposed to help regulate the mesh, but the original circuits weren't built correctly. I've been working on an improved design," he said.

"Working on it. Meaning it's not done yet."

He cocked his head. "Hard to say, really. The thing is, it should send a low level current through the mesh, synchronizing the firing and neutralizing your body's reaction to the foreign material. Might actually improve the mesh's performance eventually, but we'll need to leave it switched off for a period of time."

"And? What else?"

"It's...going to take some time to get it tuned right. Voltages need to be adjusted and so forth. That part might be...uncomfortable. Since I designed it, I think you can see why I can't be the one to try it first. If I'm not lucid, there's no way to tweak the design. The surgery and the adjustments...they might be difficult, but I'll make sure we take good care of you."

I preferred Royce's bedside manner—at least he was honest with me when something was going to be excruciating.

"Where? Where are you implanting this circuit?" I said.

Tae-min came forward, and I unconsciously tried to shrink back against the pillows as he moved away the covers and tapped on my chest, below all the bandages.

"As far as I can tell, the best place to put it," he said. "Is in your heart."

***

Etienne never did come back, and I wanted so badly to see her again, to touch her, for me to hold her again before Tae-min ripped open my chest.

I only hoped that she was safe, that Tae-min wasn't punishing her for being affectionate with me. If I died, and Tae-min was being vengeful, she'd lose me and everything she'd worked to build at the same time.

That's not how fairy tales are supposed to end.

My eyes were closed, trying to dream of a happily-ever-after conclusion to all this, when the doors opened and hospital personnel streamed in. Nurses fiddled with all the equipment, unhooking me, injecting things into my IV lines, and taking off the covers from my bare legs.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Pre-op protocols. We're moving you downstairs to the surgical floor," one of them said.

I knew that floor. I knew it too well. I'd spent years down there being sliced open from nose to tail.

Panic. Shock. Flashbacks of other surgeries. Weeks of painful recoveries, clinging to life.

Instinctively, I sat up, my body wanting to flee.

Hands pushed me back down—had to be a dozen people crowding my bedside, pulling at me, poking me, holding me still.

"Stop resisting. You'll hurt yourself," someone said.

But I couldn't stop, even though it was totally futile. A little voice inside of me kept screaming that it would be better to die than go under the knife in that sadistic torture chamber again.

Something stabbed my neck.

It burned, and then fire faded away into nothingness, the hands on my body disappearing until all I could feel were the fluffy pillows that turned into a bed of clouds beneath me.
Chapter Thirty-One

In a dark room, someone was shaking me.

Hard.

"Wake up! Jinny! We've got to go—you have to wake up. We don't have much time."

Etienne. She was back, but I didn't have the luxury of being happy about it. I was so disoriented. And in so much pain.

"Oh god, I'm too late," she said. "What did they do to you?"

In the dim room, she looked like a little sunflower blowing in the wind, her hair bobbing up and down as she shook me.

I exhaled in pain. "Heart. They put something in my heart."

"Jinny," she whispered. "You were right. About everything. I stole the all the files. Tae-min's not planning to save you. We need to go. Can you stand?"

I groaned again—I felt so weak. Drugs were definitely in my system, but they must have been wearing off, because my chest was on fire. Open-heart surgery will do that to you.

"Yes. I think so. I have to," I said. "Help me get all this off."

Unhooking myself from the pain medication—this wasn't going to be pleasant. I remembered what Tae-min said about how the mesh drugs caused extreme pain, and I'd had surgery on top of it. But staying wasn't an option, and I finally had Etienne on my side.

With the chip already in my heart, and the plans in Etienne's possession, I might have a chance. If I could reach Mokpo, Alice could help us. If she could rescue Gavin and Royce, then Royce and Alice might be able to save me.

Working frantically, Etienne pulled sensors and wires off my body, helping me remove all the IVs, except the big one in my neck.

"I don't know if I should touch this one," she said.

"Leave it. It's a central line," I said, remembering the one Royce put in me for the other surgeries. "Just close it off and tape it down."

When I was free from all the equipment, I swung my legs off the bed, pausing to catch my breath, holding my head to stop the dizziness.

"Here," she said. "I brought you some clothes."

Gently, but quickly she pulled off the hospital gown. Wasn't the first time she'd seen me naked, but with all the bandages, you could barely say that anyway— bandages covered my body from navel to neck.

"Oh Jinny, you poor thing. This looks terrible."

Blood was soaking through the bandages around my sternum. Not pretty.

"It's going to be okay," I said, partially to convince myself.

She pulled a sweatshirt over my head and helped me into a pair of loose-fitting pants and tennis shoes. Now we could run.

I tried to access my mental map of the building, tracing out the best escape route.

"I have access to the service corridors—we can use those to escape," she said. "But we need to move fast, before Tae-min finds out. He wasn't feeling good again earlier, but I don't want to bet on that. There's still plenty of security around."

I took her hand. "You remember me—I can escape anything. And I know this building. I'll lead the way. Just don't let me fall," I said.

She smiled. "You saved me before. This time, it's my turn."

***

Seoul. At night. With all its fantastic beauty, in the last twenty years it had only become more magnificent than I remembered it. All those lights, the food, the smells of kimchi and pots filled with boiling spicy rice sticks, soju being chugged at street side carts.

My town.

Even as a teenager, I'd owned the streets.

Don't get me wrong, L.A. will always be home, but Seoul? Part of my heart would always live there.

"How's your English?" I asked...in English. "Might be safer for us to talk in another language." Etienne had been trilingual—fluent in English, French, and Korean, but that was a long time ago. Plenty of people in Seoul spoke English, but if we talked fast enough and quietly enough, it could provide some extra cover.

"Fantastic, of course," she said in English. "Good idea."

"We need to stay in crowded areas, otherwise we're going to have another issue," I said. "I had my marrow tags taken out. I don't want to get caught wandering around without ID tags."

If we stuck to the really crowded spots, we'd be less likely to get flagged. As far as I knew, my retinas should still be altered—Royce said it would last for at least a month, but I didn't have any of the other precautions. Without the prosthetic mask and Caramel's hideous clothes, there was still a possibility that a very savvy scanner might pull my true identity, which was even worse than being caught without any ID tags.

"Your tags. That's right," she said. "We need to be very careful."

"Or just very fast."

"How are you holding up?" she said, keeping her arm around my waist, trying to give me some support without putting pressure on my wounds.

We'd wiggled through some tight service corridors and air ducts—I kept worrying that my heart was going to come spilling right out of my chest.

"Adrenaline's keeping me going. We can't stop moving here for long—they're bound to be right behind us," I said.

We were right at the edge of Myeongdong, a bright tunnel of neon-studded businesses that stretched into the sky, crammed from edge to edge with people shopping and eating. Perfect place for us to disappear.

"We can jump on the subway at the other end," she said.

The subway was a risk, but a cab driver would individually scan our tags, and we'd be caught for sure. In my condition, walking for much longer wasn't even an option.

"If we can make it to Mokpo, there's someone there that can help us," I said. "Is there still a KTX station nearby? Does it go to Mokpo?"

The bullet train—there used to be a line that went directly from Seoul to Mokpo, but you never could be sure how much things had changed.

She nodded. "That's the fastest way down there. We'll have to keep moving around the train cars—they'll be scanning periodically, and security might be checking IDs."

Wouldn't that just be perfect? Escape the Chaebol, only to finally be brought to justice for my twenty year old crimes? Then I'd get to die in a literal jail cell.

I kissed her cheek. "Thank you. Thank you for this."

She pointed to the backpack she was carrying. "I didn't want to believe it, but you sounded so sure. It's all there, in my bag. You were right. I can't read all of it—some of the plan are encrypted, but it was more than enough to know that Tae-min wasn't planning for you to survive this."

"How did you manage to get ahold of all that?" Last time I checked, Etienne wasn't a hacker, but a lot could happen in twenty years.

She smiled. "You know I've always been persuasive. Everyone has a weakness for my pastries—let's just say I had a chat with a few lonely people from the tech staff."

I laughed. "Social engineering, with pastries—I love you."

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Let's go. Promise me—if I get caught, you leave me. Run away. There's no reason to ruin your life too."

She shook her head, took my hand. "I already made my choice when we left the building. There's no going back. All or nothing."

I squeezed her hand once, and it was all that needed to be said. We raced into the night, letting the living swell of Myeongdong swallow us into its irresistible glow.
Chapter Thirty-Two

Perfect timing—on a busy Friday night, the subway near Myeongdong was packed to the max. Even the most sophisticated scanning software would have a difficult time tracking consistently in that crowd. Eventually it would nail me, but we wouldn't be on for long, and when we made it to Mokpo, Alice's underground network could protect us until we escaped to L.A.

As we rode towards the KTX station, I hugged Etienne. With wall-to-wall passengers, no one would notice, and putting my chest close to Etienne's was a good defense. Scanners would pick up her marrow tags without realizing mine were missing.

She held me gently and tried to protect me from being crushed. She wore another white dress, and I hoped that I wasn't bleeding—didn't want to stain her clothes, make us look more suspicious.

I put my face into the crook of her neck, her skin so warm and soft against mine, smelling just as sweet as ever, even over all the other subway odors. This was dangerous. I started relaxing, some of the adrenaline fading away, and I was so very tired, all the pain in my chest creeping back.

"Don't move," she whispered in my ear. "Security's coming this way. Walk slowly with me towards the door, then we'll jump off at the next stop."

From the corner of my eye, I spotted the security officer, wading slowly through the subway car, heading right for us. As soon as the doors opened, Etienne pulled me onto the platform, floating backwards until we hit solid ground again, engulfed by the crowd. The doors closed and the subway moved on.

Safe.

For now.

"We need to get out of here, in case they're about to search the whole station," I said, and I didn't think it was paranoid.

Neither did Etienne.

"Go, we have to get out of here. Now," she said, dragging me towards the stairs.

I'd been suppressing it, too scared to hope, but that was stupid. As long as it worked, I should use it.

I pushed at the mesh, revving up my speed, scanning the station for any suspicious characters.

There, in the corner, security agents pushing through the congested mass. I took the lead, nudging Etienne in the other direction, towards the opposite exit. She followed me, trusting my instincts.

Twenty years apart, and that trust was still there.

We breached the surface and ran.

Bullet train or bust.

***

Three hours.

Three hours for the bullet train to reach Mokpo.

Less than an hour in, and I was already exhausted. Unlike the subway, the bullet train wasn't nearly as crowded. We kept moving between cars, staying close, hoping Etienne's tags would cover mine.

But all that movement was taking its toll on me. All the adrenaline was running dry, and my body was trying to tell me that I needed to call it quits. How long before I couldn't go any farther?

"Let's sit down here, just for a second," Etienne said, when I stumbled and almost fell.

I felt more lucid too—the rest of the pain medication was wearing off. Easier for me to think, but pain was creeping in. Not from my heart. Not from the surgery.

It was from the medication Tae-min had given me for the mesh.

My bones hurt.

All the little joints—any tiny movement in my eyes, my skull, my fingers. It was a dull pain, but I had a horrible feeling it was only getting started.

"No, we can't," I said.

She put a hand on my forehead. "You're hot. You're sweating," she said. "What's going on?"

"Pain medications are wearing off. I feel sick. Maybe something else. I don't know."

She pushed me into a chair, and I didn't have the strength to resist her. I wanted to throw up, pass out, all of the above.

I dropped my head between my knees and she rubbed my back while I breathed slowly.

"I'm so sorry Jinny. If I had believed you sooner, I could have rescued you before this happened."

"No, it's not your fault. Even without this surgery, I was living on borrowed time. Tae-min wasn't planning on keeping me alive, but he did give me more time to work with. Now that you've stolen the plans to that chip, if we can get my friends back in one piece, they might have a chance of fixing the implant before I..." I had long ago made peace with the thought of dying, but I didn't want to say it out loud in front of Etienne.

"I believe in you. I'll do whatever I can to get you there," she said. "We're almost to the next stop. That means we're almost halfway there."

I looked up, trying to clear the nausea and dizziness. "We shouldn't have stopped," I said. "There. Look. We have to move."

Security, heading right for us.

She stood up and pulled me with her, walking calmly, but briskly.

We entered another car and stood beside the door, watching as trees flew by in the night, bouncing in anticipation, waiting for the damned door to open, hoping we could escape before the guard reached us.

"Come on come on come on," I whispered.

The train glided to a halt and as soon as the doors slid open, we slipped through the crack, disappeared into the evening, hiding around the corner of the building. Peeking around the side, we watched as the security guard shone a light into the station, panning back and forth, looking for us. A call went out, signaling the closing of the doors, and the guard reluctantly got back on.

Saved. Barely.

Etienne's tags had definitely been flagged for traveling with an unidentified passenger. No more trains for us, and we were stuck in the middle of nowhere in rural Korea.

How the hell were we going to get to Mokpo?
Chapter Thirty-Three

The town was nothing but a tiny stopover, just a little collection of shops along a dirt road, likely fueled by the bullet train and the small highway that crossed through the area. Even if we could, taking a taxi still wouldn't be safe.

We strolled through the dark, looking for the nearest business. The first thing we found was a restaurant, and through the front windows I saw tableside grills cooking meat, hot clay pots filled with boiling tofu stew, and endless side dishes scattered across big tables. With all my heart, I wished Etienne and I could go inside and have a slow, traditional meal together.

But that definitely wasn't in the cards.

Instead, we slunk around to the back, where a handful of cars sat parked in a dirt lot.

"Do you still remember how to hotwire a car?" Etienne said.

Absolutely drained, I still grinned. "Can't say I've had to use that skill in a long time, but there's no way I've forgotten. Pick a car?" I said, like we were just a normal couple shopping at a dealership.

She pointed at a little red passenger car—new enough that it wouldn't break, but cheap enough that it wouldn't attract attention.

"That one. I want that one," she said.

"Anything you wish. One car, coming up," I said. Even before the mesh, I'd been good at breaking into things. The streets were my playground, and that included having my pick of cars when I wanted them.

Still had it.

In minutes, I'd broken into the car and started the ignition.

Grand theft auto had never felt so good.

***

I had all these tough plans to stay awake while we drove, make sure no one was following us, do my part for our team, but that didn't happen.

As soon as we were safely in the car, I fell asleep, Etienne's warm hand on my leg, telling me it was okay to relax.

Seemed like I'd just fallen asleep when she put her hand on my arm, shaking me.

"We're almost there," she said. "Where do I go? You said you knew someone here that could help you."

Mokpo looked so strange in the daylight—none of the neon lights, none of the crowds, like it was a ghost town just waiting to be filled with nightlife. All those big apartment buildings, bland concrete reaching into air, probably filled with business workers preparing for their morning commute.

I would have tried to warn Alice that we were coming, but the only cell phone we had was Etienne's, and it was company issued—she was smart enough to leave it behind. Something like that would have been instantly tracked.

I curled forward, shivering, clutching my stomach, trying to speak but struggling for words.

"Jinny? What's happening?" she said.

"Cold. So cold," I said.

She put a hand on my forehead. "You're burning up. It's not cold in here at all. You've got to tell me where to go. You need a doctor, but I'm afraid to take you to a regular hospital. Tae-min will come for you."

"Alice. Find Alice, go to Wonderland," I said, hoping she wouldn't think I was just babbling about white rabbits and Cheshire cats, I whispered the name of the hotel before I lost consciousness again.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The ceiling was covered in hot pink satin.

I blinked

I'd been here before.

Wonderland.

"Jin. You're awake. Easy now."

We'd made it. Against all the odds, we'd made it to Mokpo and Etienne had found Alice.

And that sounded like Royce talking to me.

A huge hand touched my forehead, and I knew it was him.

"Royce?" I said, voice hoarse.

"The one and only," he said.

"You're alive," Alice said.

My bed was surrounded. "I feel so flattered," I said.

Gavin and Etienne stood on either side of me, touching my arms.

I tried to sit up. "Gavin," I said. "Your hand."

He held up the other one, and it was covered in a thick cast. He smiled. "Doing fine. Royce took care of it for now. Still needs surgery, but should be good as new in a few weeks."

"How did you guys escape?" I said, guilty that I'd put them both in danger by running away with Etienne.

Alice crossed her arms, put her chin in the air. "I rescued them, of course. Piece of cake."

Royce put his arm around Alice, fingers running down along her thigh.

"Unbelievable, but she got right in there. We were out in hours. Good thing too, since I really needed to do some work on Gavin's hand, and you were in really rough shape when you came in," he said.

I looked between Royce and Alice. She'd been flirting with him from day one. Well, Royce could do a lot worse—I had a lot of respect for her. I was happy that one of us got to be with her, and besides, now I had Etienne, and nothing could ever compare.

"I've got you stabilized, finally. You were delirious with pain and fever when Etienne finally found Alice," Royce said.

"I wasn't quite back from rescuing Royce and Gavin when you guys showed up," Alice said. "I told my staff to expect you, just in case you turned up, but you did leave something of a lasting impression on them."

"They held me at knife point when I showed up," Etienne said.

"Sorry about that."

Royce shook his head. "I read the documents that Etienne gave us. Unbelievable. Hate to tell you this, but the circuit he surrounded your heart with? It's essentially permanent. There's no good way to remove it without killing you. Not surprisingly, it's similar to Alice's implant."

"He was going to tune it, do all the work for it on you, then rip it out when it was ready," Etienne said.

"No way you'd survive that," Royce said.

"Why rip it out of my chest? Why not just make another one?" I said.

"Materials," Alice said. "And time. It's made of rare substances that take a lot of time to collect and or manufacture."

"Plus, it's not complete. In its present form it's...imperfect," Royce said.

"Meaning...it's going to kill me," I said. "Story of my life, at this point."

"I can tweak almost anything. I'm not a surgeon, but just looking at the plans that were decrypted, this thing might help me too. Fix my heart," Alice said.

Great incentive for her to figure things out.

"Do we know any high class hackers that might be able to decrypt the other plans?" I said.

Royce smirked. "I sent it to Caramel and Gideon. Caramel is great at decrypting hardware ciphers."

Caramel?

A hacker?

I thought I'd seen everything.

"Are you kidding me?" I said.

"Don't be so judgmental. She's smarter than you think," Royce said.

Guess so. Still didn't excuse her fashion sense.

"You were screaming in so much pain when we got here. Are you feeling better?" Etienne said.

"I'm alive, and I'm surrounded by everyone I care about. Could be way worse. But yes, physically I feel okay. Just tired. Weak. But not dying."

"Better not be. I've got you back on all kinds of good stuff again. From your blood work, I'm still working out what kind of cocktail that guy put you on, but I can tell you one thing—it was not easy on your body," Royce said.

"Certainly doesn't feel that way," I said.

"You'll need more surgery to deal with the new implant, once we have more information. Now that you're more stable, I'd prefer to take you back to Pasadena for the next surgeries. I have way better equipment there, and I can put your marrow tags back at the same time," Royce said.

I wasn't out of the woods yet. I could still die. If this was more stable than I'd been before, then I must have been dire indeed, because I felt like total crap.

Someone knocked on the door, and Alice went out for a minute, returning with a scowl on her face. "We have a problem," she said. "Jin has a phone call to make."

***

"No way. I'm not talking to that guy," I said.

"He just told me that there's a kill switch installed in your circuits. Meaning he could stop your heart if he wanted to," Alice said. "I'm guessing he's got a tracking device in you too, since he was able to find you here. I'll take a look at those plans to confirm what he's got implanted, but it's totally possible."

"Fuck," Royce said. "I'm sure we could disable it, but it would take time to figure out what to tweak, and I don't want to put you through another surgery here. I don't know how much more your body can take."

"Neither do I," I said. "So what the hell do we do?"

"I'm sending my people into the city. He's here somewhere. We just need to find him and take him out before he catches you. Can't be certain, he probably has to be within a certain range to use a kill switch. Long range on that sort of thing usually isn't effective," she said. "If he can't have you alive, he'll want that circuit back. He's counting on it to save him too."

"I could use myself as bait? Go sit somewhere in the city and see if he shows up?" I said.

"No," Etienne and Gavin said together.

"I'm not letting you get close to that monster again," Gavin said. "I didn't like him then, and I don't like him now."

Right. Gavin had known Tae-min too. Gavin was going to be next up in the mesh protocols, and Tae-min helped with all his pre-op testing. Not pleasant stuff.

"I have an idea. Turnabout—fair play, right? Tae-min has implants too. Not just the mesh, but augments in his heart from the shooting incident. Anything about that in those plans?" I said.

Alice and Royce smiled.

"Once we hear back from Caramel, we'll know for sure," Royce said. "You're thinking maybe we could hack his implant?"

Royce put that new biosensor implant in me because the old one wasn't secure. If something as innocuous as a biosensor could be hacked, why not a more complicated array?

Alice bit her lip. "I'd need to get a sensor close enough to scan the device, lock on to the frequencies. Then we could scramble his pacemakers. Might kill him in the process. Can't guarantee anything."

"Good," Gavin said. "I'm just sad I can't strangle him with my bare hands. No one touches Jin and gets away with it."

Poor Etienne bit her lip. She'd known Tae-min as her friend and employer all these years.

"I'm sorry," I said to her. "This has to be hard for you."

She shook her head. "Gavin's right. He's done good things for me, but he's a lying bastard. He knew you were alive this whole time, and he never told me. What he was planning to do to you—it's unforgivable. He's no better than the old Chaebol administration that he told me he hated so much. He's written his own fate."

Gavin nodded. "We're all on the same page. It's good to have you back with us," he said to Etienne. "That was on my list of things I never thought I'd see happen."

They'd been friends before we were separated too, and I'm sure Gavin was thrilled at finding Etienne alive. He didn't always show his emotions, but they were in there. Beneath all the knives and fierce fashion sense, Gavin was a teddy bear.

"So once we get that information, we track him down and have someone get close enough to trigger a pulse switch," Royce said.

Alice nodded. "I can put together the hardware, and you can make sure the biomech parts line up. Then we hunt him down before he gets close to Jin."

I sat up, ignoring the half dozen hands that tried to keep me lying down.

"Alice. The drone swarm. Do you still have some?" I said.

A grin spread across her face, her mermaid hair glowing in the basement lights, reflecting off her pale skin. "Of course. I tend to crash them when I'm using too many at the same time—good to have backups."

I smiled. "Bring them to me. That's how we'll find him."

"Can you fly them in your condition?" she asked.

"Ironically, thanks to Tae-min the mesh is still working. Shouldn't take long to hunt him down."

"I know you don't want to, but you should call him," Alice said. "Make him think that you're going to give yourself up so that he doesn't get impatient and pull the switch on you first. He already knows our location, so it's not like there's any danger of him tracking us."

"You tried tracing him already?" Gavin said.

Alice nodded. "Of course. No luck. He's not completely stupid, it seems."

"Tae-min isn't stupid. He's just an asshole," I said. "Fine. Give me a phone."

Alice punched some numbers into a cell phone and then handed it to me. "I'll get the drones and the transmitters in place while you chat." She turned to Royce. "Don't let her get too worked up."

"I'm not sure why you think I have any control over her. She does what she wants," he said.

Etienne and Gavin both laughed.

"I'll be fine," I said. "Everyone can just hush."

I pushed the call button and waited while it rang.

"Alice?" Tae-min said.

"You've got me," I said. "What do you want?"

He laughed. "Ah, Jin, you're seeing reason much faster than I thought you would. You used to be so stubborn. Look, I didn't want to use force, but this is for your own good."

"Right, so you installed a kill switch in my heart for my own protection?" I said.

"In a manner of speaking. It doesn't necessarily have to kill you—but it's for safety, in case you do something to hurt yourself or others. Once the implant is activated...there could be neurological effects. It had to be added to the design. I hope you understand."

"Perfectly logical. How thoughtful of you," I said.

Royce poked my arm—wasn't sure if he just wanted me to stop antagonizing Tae-min, or if he was worried that I was getting too worked up. Maybe both.

"So glad you understand. It was dangerous of you to leave so soon after surgery. Hopefully you've been cared for in the interim. I'd hate for you to do any permanent damage."

Yeah, damage to his precious circuit is what he meant, but I managed not to say that out loud.

"I'll go back with you, but I need your word that you won't try to do anything to my friends. That includes Etienne," I said.

"Etienne. Yes. Very naughty of her to be so disobedient. I'm afraid after something like that, I can't allow her to return to the Chaebol. But I will leave her in peace. You might want to inform her that all of her accounts have been permanently frozen."

Disobedient. Like she was a dog. She'd been living with this illusion of power all these years, but in reality she'd just been a prisoner on a very long leash.

I didn't want to share that little piece of information with her just yet—I already felt so guilty. If we made it back to Pasadena, she'd be free to do whatever she wanted, but I'd do whatever I could to make her happy. She could have my whole fortune, for all I cared.

"Of course I can't meet with you personally—as I understand it, your friend Alice has a bit of clout in this city. Wouldn't want anyone to get any bright ideas," he said. "I'll have a car waiting for you at the eastern side of town, at the soccer training center. You have exactly an hour for that doctor friend of yours to prepare you for travel. Don't be late."

I wanted to scream some angry epithet at him, but he ended the call before I had the chance.

Alice came back into the room with the box of drone materials just as I hung up and barely resisted throwing the phone across the room.

"Good and bad news," she said. "I got the decoded plans from Caramel—I'd like to meet her. Her skills are impressive."

I laughed. "Better you than me. She's...special." Distantly, I also remembered that Caramel had my car. Seemed like a tiny price to pay for getting my life back and finding Etienne, but it still stung. I wanted my damned Lotus.

"So what's the bad news?" Royce said.

"Tae-min's on a fool's errand," Alice said. "The chip—it's not just a matter of needing to bio-tune it with a live subject. It's incomplete. Just from looking at it, I can tell it won't work."

Everyone in the room was silent.

"What a big surprise, I'm still dying," I said.

"Shit," Royce said. "That's okay, we were planning on needing to do repairs on it. I've been trying to work on something similar to this myself. Between the existing plans, and what I've already researched, we can fix it. We can fix it, and then make another one—this might be exactly the kind of thing that will help Alice and other people with implant rejections."

I stared at Royce. "So that's where all your money's been going."

He smirked. "Your bill is so big at this point, you're going to need to expand SEI to a few other continents to pay me back."

I just smiled. "You've more than earned it," I said seriously, which caught him off guard.

He squirmed and looked away for a second, cleared his throat. "First, we need to take care of this Tae-min asshole."

"There's some other good news. I know one of the things the circuit needs to be complete," Alice said. "And I know how to get it."

"What? What is it?" I said.

"There's a conduction issue in the circuit—eventually it would have just fried your whole system. It needs a different type of metal to modulate the voltage correctly," she said. "What it needs is Anthozite."

Anthozite. The stuff that was almost impossible to get anymore.

The stuff that Alice could dive for.

I grinned at her. "There are benefits to being friends with a mermaid."

"Looks like I get to go for a swim after you're done flying."

Land and sea.

Attacks from all angles.

That's my kind of party.
Chapter Thirty-Five

Night again, and Mokpo spread out before us, glowing with all of its filthy, delicious glory. What torture to be back yet again, and I still couldn't wander the city. How long had it been since I even touched a deck of cards?

"I don't like having you up here, exposed to the elements," Royce said.

"Sorry, but the drones are more responsive if the central controller isn't being blocked by a building," I said.

"She's right, unfortunately," Alice said.

Alice had her people set up a little command post for us back on the roof—chairs, tables, snacks, monitors, and the electronics Alice needed to trigger the implant malfunction.

"You should still be in bed," Royce said. "At least stay sitting down."

"No problem. Standing up doesn't sound like fun right now." Just getting up there felt like climbing Mount Everest. Heart surgery will do that to you.

And the chair was comfortable, too—coated in some soft hot-pink fuzz. Perfect command post for a crazy mission like this.

Alice passed out the visors to everyone but Royce.

"Don't want to watch?" I said.

He shook his head. "Those things make me nauseous—I'm hanging up my drone flying hat. I want to stay alert in case anything happens while you're flying. Everyone else can watch the visor monitors—that way they'll know where to send Alice's goons if you pass out."

"Gee Royce, you're so encouraging," I said.

"Sorry. I'm worried about your stamina. You've survived more than I thought humanly possible," he said. "Just do your best."

"Not like my life is depending on it, or anything like that," I said.

"You'll be fine," Gavin said. "We're all here for you. Tae-min's not getting away with this."

I put the visor on and grabbed the controller. "Alright then. Let's fly."

Using the maximum number of drones, I launched the swarm, sending them into the city, blanketing the streets with electronic eyes. Tae-min was so selfish and used to getting his way, I totally believed that he would pull the plug on me if I didn't show up on time.

"You're amazing," Etienne said.

I didn't answer, too focused on flying the swarm, but I appreciated the sentiment.

"Don't distract her," Royce said.

I already knew he was concerned. I was breathing hard and sweating. Keeping the drones in the air was draining my energy much too quickly.

Even as it sucked my stamina, the thrill made my nerves tingle—all those lights, all those sounds, all those bits of sensory information flooding my brain while my fingers automatically glided around the controller, moving the swarm with beautiful fluidity.

At incredible speeds, I zoomed in all directions, floating over the streets, through the bars, and into the restaurants teeming with hungry people. I soared into the tree line, combing the surrounding forest for someone hiding in the woods.

No sign of Tae-min.

He had to be there somewhere.

"Come on, come on, where are you," I said.

Then I gathered the rest of the swarm, redirected them towards the water where the evening laser show as already in progress. The show was gorgeous, but it played havoc with the visor as I tried to pick out faces in the continually flashing display of mist and lights.

Then I divided the swarm again, sent them into the harbor, searching all the boats that floated in the dark sea, lasers reflecting off their shiny white sides.

One little drone, a single one I'd sent far afield, flew into one of the boats that bobbed at the edge of the harbor.

There.

Sitting smug on a chair upholstered in red velvet, like a king on his cheap throne: Tae-min.

"I've got him!" I yelled, standing up without thinking about it. I switched the display briefly to a single frame so they could see his location.

"Yes!" Gavin yelled.

"Hey hey, sit back down," Royce said.

I hadn't meant to stand up, but Royce was right.

It was a very bad idea.

Vertigo seized me, the visor display swirling into a nauseating smear. I dropped the controller and fell back into the chair.

Royce ripped the visor off my face, feeling my pulse and looking in my eyes.

"The drones!" I yelled, reaching for the visor.

They would have all fallen into the sea.

"The drones aren't going to be worth anything if your heart explodes right here and now," Royce said.

The vertigo subsided, and Etienne and Gavin pressed closed, worry clouding their faces.

"Alice, I'm so sorry," I said.

"No sense crying over spilled drones. I can make more. And if you're as wealthy as you say you are, you can help pay for them," she said.

"But the receiver drone—I crashed it," I said. The single drone she'd set up to deliver the fatal pulse, I'd lost it with the others.

"What time is it?" she said.

"We have ten minutes," Gavin said.

Alice nodded, and pulled a spare drone out of her pocket. Not even sure how that was possible—her red leather shorts looked too tight to fit anything in there besides her perfectly round ass.

"Give me seven. Then you have three to relocate him and fly the drone there," she said.

"I can do it."

She dove into the box of electronics, pulling out a soldering iron, gluing bits and pieces onto the little bee using tweezers and an intensely bright lamp that had a magnifying glass attached to the top.

"It's a hack job, but it should work. Should," she said.

"It's got to," I said. Or those were going to be my last minutes on earth.

I jammed the visor back over my face and mashed the controller, sending the drone out at maximum speed, going so fast over the water I thought its little wings might snap.

Just as I piloted the bee into the boat's cabin, all the flashing from the lasers caught my eye, and I felt dizzy again, blinking, almost losing control again.

No.

Not now.  
I bit my lip, tried to block out all the flashing, turning the drone the other way, everything I had focused on hitting my mark.

Tae-min, sitting there in his tacky chair, sipping champagne with one hand and holding a little box in the other, a smirk on his face. His finger swirled around one of the buttons.

That was the control box for the kill switch in my implant. He knew that he'd never get to be with me, that I'd never love him back. That bastard was looking forward to getting rid of me, once and for all.

Not today. Today wasn't my day to die.

I flew the drone down to the center of his chest, right between the crisp collar folds of his black suit jacket.

"Now! NOW!" I screamed, watching as he started to push down on the button.

"Got it!" Alice typed a series of commands into the computer, her pinky finger hitting enter just before Tae-min finished his movements.

The box fell out of his hand, clattering against the cabin's carpeted floor.

I flew the drone backwards as Tae-min flopped forward, grabbing his chest, grunting in pain.

I left the drone hovering there until all the light had left his eyes, and there was nothing left but the reflected lasers dancing in his dark pupils.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jin Tower.

Home base at last.

Back to where I should have been at full power.

Which probably wasn't the best thing right that minute.

"I love you all, but I could kill someone right now," I said. "Why didn't anyone tell me about this?"

We all sat around in a circle in one of my posh conference rooms—the big circular couches covered in a soft black linen were meant for strategy meetings like this, and the whole room was wired for technology: flat screen TVs, holo-conferencing portal, surround sound, voice-activated services—ideal for important gatherings.

Ideal except for one thing: it had a sadly small number of items to throw when I was furious.

"Sorry," Gavin said. "I just got out of recovery. Hadn't checked in with anyone yet. I assumed everything was fine."

I put my head down for a second, tried to cool off. "I didn't mean you. I know Royce fixed your hand while I was still unconscious."

"Then who did you mean?" Alice said. "Not like I know your business around here, and Royce was kind of busy trying to save all our hides."

"I don't know, I just, argh." I stood up, fists clenched, eyes squeezed shut, wanting to punch something, break something.

Kill something.

Someone.

"This shouldn't have happened," I said.

Royce stood up and put both hands on my shoulders. I winced even with the light pressure.

"Sit down," he said. "Don't make me regret my decision to let you leave the clinic."

Etienne touched my back. "We'll figure this out. What's important is that you're alive."

"You're tired. You're overwhelmed. You're in pain. You just had two major surgeries. You shouldn't even be up yet. Calm down," Royce said. "Or I swear, I'm going to sedate you again."

I may have been gaining a reputation as a difficult patient.

"Fine." I slumped back onto the couch and folded my arms. "Ouch," I said when my own arms put too much pressure on my chest. Everything up there hurt. I was losing track of how many times my chest cavity had been sawed open, and that's not something to brag about.

Etienne put her hand on my thigh, avoiding anything above my waist. She was smarter than me that way, and her gentle touch did make me feel better.

Royce sat on my other side, Gavin and Alice positioned across the circle from us. Gavin's hand was in a cast from his fingers up to his bicep, and when he put his head in his lap, the casted arm leaned against his ear, pointing up at an odd, uncomfortable angle.

As my anger cooled, I felt like a total jerk. Gavin had risked life and limb to keep me alive, and he usually took pride in keeping SEI running smoothly across all our different facilities. I'm sure he was mortified that this had happened, even if he had no way of preventing it personally.

"You can blame me, if you want," Royce said. "I'm the one that said not to tell you."

Whether or not that was true, he knew I couldn't get mad or try to punish him.

"I'm sure it sucks to have all those abilities missing," Alice said. "I know I'm going to feel like that for awhile, after we make another circuit."

Alice was still holding her own, doing fine on Royce's drug cocktail while she waited for us to gather materials for another Seoul circuit.

"Just give it time," Royce said. "I think in another month, that Tae-min asshole might have been right—once we can tune the circuit correctly, you might actually be faster than before. It's just that the wounds need to heal before we can start sending extra current through it."

"I know, I know, you've said that before," I said, totally failing at sounding relaxed and confident.

Etienne kissed my cheek. "No matter what happens, you've got us. All of us."

The irritated part of me wanted to say something about how cheesy vows wouldn't do anything to fix the situation, but even I couldn't bring myself to say those words, not with those pink lips and her hopeful eyes peeking out of that heart-shaped face, looking me with total sincerity.

I hated to admit it, but I missed that stupid mesh. It was still in me, temporarily neutralized by the chip, and now I was slow, powerless, and it contributed to my overall irritation. Nothing was going my way, and that's not how it was supposed to be in Jin Tower.

"I want to see the message," I said.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Royce said.

"Too bad. This is my castle—my rules," I said. "And the voice system is tuned to me."

Gavin looked up, his eyes silently asking me not to do it.

"Adriana," I said, addressing the AI system. "Play my most recent holo-message."

"Message display in five seconds," the system said.

Hardly anyone bothered to send holo-messages anymore. More of a novelty or usually some kind of a troll, and I knew there'd only be one for us to watch.

From the center of the table, a cylinder of light rose to the ceiling.

Augustine's face appeared, a 3D monstrosity suspended in the beam.

The primal part of my brain wanted to smash the table projector—fitting punishment for containing his ugly visage.

"Good evening. So sorry to be of bother to you, but I think maybe you want to know my proposition. Your dog. He has wandered away from home, it seems. I have rescued him for you, but you can imagine I have spent some time and money to do this. Gladly, I will return him to you, but it is only fair, I think if you stop your bids on our...mutual interests. This is a good trade, yes? Otherwise, maybe I need to do some racing of your dog. Sell him to someone interested, perhaps, so I can pay the expenses. I have heard you are out of the country. Because I have courtesy, I shall wait for your response. Let us lunch, soon. We have much to speak of."

I jumped to my feet, yelling in rage, as I flipped the table over.

Everyone stood up. Everyone. And then I had the distinctly surreal feeling of being taken by surprise—usually I was the fastest in the room—but before I knew it, Gavin was in my face, inches from my nose.

"We're getting Lucky back. We're getting our rightful territory back. Augustine's not going to take this round," he said.

I smiled, grabbing his shoulders, not caring how much it hurt.

"That's what I'm talking about," I said. "We come out on top, or you can pin the losing announcement on my gravestone. Nobody fucks with my dog and gets away with it."

"He disrespected us. That can't stand. The house always wins," he said.

"We need to go have another chat with Leo," I said.

Gavin nodded.

"No," Royce said. "There's only a few hours between now and that stupid drone race. If you have any hope of competing in that, you need to rest."

Gavin smirked. He knew.

I was getting my dog back, one way or another.

"Alice needs to talk with Caramel and Gideon anyway. Kill a few birds with one stone," I said.

But what I really wanted to kill was one annoying Swiss French guy.

I just needed a big enough rock.

***

The evening seemed cooler than normal for this time of year, or maybe I'd just gotten used to the sticky Korean heat. Then again, Royce said I was having trouble keeping my temperature up. Something about my body adjusting to not having the mesh firing all the time. I wrapped my coat around myself.

The parking lot was empty, but Leo's truck was there, sign on, steam coming out the top, ready for business.

"Jin," Leo said. "You're looking...casual."

For once, I didn't care that I was disheveled—hard to do your hair and makeup when you can't raise your arms above your head. I was so frustrated that I threw on this old tweed coat and called it good.

I gave a small laugh. "Yeah, I know. I'm a hot mess."

"How are you feeling? I heard some of the story from Caramel and Gideon. Seems like...you're still recovering," he said.

I'm sure I looked totally questionable in terms of health—still too pale, tired. I buttoned the coat all the way up to my neck so that it would hide all the bruises, scars, and bandages that would be covering my chest for the next few weeks.

"I'm doing okay, officially not dying anymore."

Royce scoffed. "Not that she's doing much to prevent that. You've got half an hour, and then you're either going back to your room in Jin tower or back to my clinic."

He stood close behind me, like he was worried I might collapse at any second.

I rolled my eyes and said to Leo, "He's just afraid I'll tear out my stitches again."

"Or bleed to death. Little things, you know," Royce said.

Leo cleared his throat. "Well I'm happy you're doing better. Maybe you could use some food?"

"Always," I said. I really was starving. "Thanks for everything."

"Any time," he said. "But you're not out of the woods yet, are you?"

Gavin stepped forward. "We need help breaking a few rules."

"Hey There. Oh," he said when he saw Gavin's arm. "You okay?"

Gavin nodded. "Just a little accident on our trip. Won't slow me down."

"Guess it was quite the trip," Leo said and peered behind Gavin. "So this is your friend that I heard about?"

Alice strutted across the pavement, hand out, leaning into Leo's window. "I'm Alice. Pleased to meet you."

She had that way of moving that just breathed sex. Her mermaid hair flowed over her shoulders, and her bright red fingernails flashed in the light. She was the total opposite of Etienne, so I suppose it was fitting that she ended up with Royce. Help him stay out of trouble with all those girls in my clubs.

Leo swallowed. "Likewise," he said, taking her hand briefly and pointing to the sign on his truck. "I'm Leonardo. Can I interest you in some tacos?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't get many of those where I'm from. How could I refuse?"

Leo started cooking and Gavin moved back next to me, arm gently around my waist.

I shifted in his grasp. "Thanks for the extra attention, but I feel okay—I'll let you guys know if I'm about to keel over."

"No you won't," Royce said.

Gavin didn't say anything, but he kept his arm around me.

"You sure you're okay with this?" I asked Alice. "You don't owe us anything else. Gavin's probably fine on his own, but I'm sure he appreciates the backup, since he's down an arm."

She shrugged. "I wanted to see what the Undergrid here looks like anyway. And besides—I like punishing the wicked."

Gavin nodded. "I usually work alone, but I could literally use an extra hand."

"I don't want you overexerting yourself either," Royce said to Alice. "We've got things controlled for the moment, but before I can fix your implants too, I want you to be careful."

Alice gave me a look of empathy. "He's so cute that way, isn't he?"

Royce threw up his hands. "I give up. Do what you guys want. I'll just wait around to sew up the aftermath."

"You're such a dear," Alice said. "I'll make it up to you later."

She kissed his cheek, and his expression softened. Melted, is more like it. Royce in love—who knew that was even possible?

Leo flung tacos across the counter on paper plates. "Dig in."

I snatched one and took a bite. "Don't mind if I do."

I got the feeling Royce wasn't eating or sleeping normally, and he couldn't hide the look of relief on his face when he took his first bite. Even though she didn't exactly seem like the nurturing type, maybe Alice would help look after him.

When we were all done stuffing our faces with tacos, Leo finished cleaning the grill and moved his sword into the window, rubbing the hilt.

"So. Any interest in having a third along for this trip? I've never liked that Augustine creep, and anyone that steals a dog is no friend of mine. That's far below the belt. That man has no honor," he said.

Gavin smiled. "Your sword is always welcome with us. You really think Gideon and Caramel will let us violate the exit portals?"

The Undergrid had strict rules about where you could and couldn't exit—helped keep surface dwellers from complaining about, or in some cases learning about communities that were living right below them.

Some of those were right beneath Augustine's hotel.

"I think I can persuade them," Leo said. "Oh, Caramel said to say thank you for the car. She won the preliminary races with it, and wants you guys to come for the finals in a few weeks."

My poor car. "I'm so happy she's...enjoying it," I said.

Alice bit a glossy fingernail. "You guys have underground drag races? Count me in."

Great. We could have one big subterranean party where I could watch the bionic mermaid and the crazy Lolita driving around in my beloved car.

"Not sure what they'll ask as for payment for this, but I get the feeling Caramel wants more cars. Might want to go shopping in your garage, if you know what I mean," Leo said.

I sighed. At this rate, I'd be hitching rides from Royce again.

"Whatever it takes," I said.

Leo nodded. "Great. We'll help get Lucky back. Just promise me one thing," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Win that drone race tomorrow. I want that guy out of our city."
Chapter Thirty-Seven

Royce insisted on escorting me back to the tower, even though he'd just been complaining about having all kinds of stocking and cleaning that he needed to do back at his clinic.

"I want you in bed, sleeping before I leave," Royce said as we sailed up in my private elevator, avoiding the public floors of the tower. "And don't even try to tell me you're not tired. You look like a zombie. Saving your empire isn't going to mean much if you're dead."

"Noted," I said.

"Etienne. If you won't relax for yourself, do it for her. I know you love her. Even I can see that. It's different than with Gavin."

That stopped me.

"I love Gavin, but we're family. He's like my brother. Etienne..." I said.

"That's what I thought," Royce said. "So be a big girl and be responsible with your body, or I'm not going to let you race tomorrow."

I laughed. "Come on, Royce. I appreciate the sentiment, but have you ever had any luck keeping me away from what I want?"

He grumbled. "I'm not sure there's a horse tranquilizer big enough to keep you down."

I put my head against him for a minute. "I'll behave. Thanks for caring."

He touched my shoulders softly. "Good. Alice likes you—I think she'd be upset if you died."

I grinned. "You sure struck gold there. Looks like you're finally going to have to learn Korean."

"Finally something you can do for me. Start making lesson plans," he said.

"Kamsahapnida," I said.

"What's that mean?"

"Thank you."

He laughed. "Good one."

"I just need to check the mechanics on the drone that Alice made for me. Then I promise, you can watch we me take my meds and get in bed," I said. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Etienne made desert. You haven't tasted any of her pastries yet—you're going to want some of those."

He laughed. "Never a good idea to turn down free food."

The elevator doors opened, and we went back into the strategy room.

I thought Etienne might have made something, but I underestimated her zeal. Every surface was covered trays of baked products.

"Oh, come sit down Jin. You look awful," she said.

"Ha. Thanks."

"I just mean you look tired."

Royce folded his arms. "No, you were right the first time. She looks awful because she's not taking care of herself."

I plopped to a couch. "There? Happy?" I said and then put my hands over my eyes for a second. "Sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out that way."

Etienne sat next to me, touched my forehead.

"You feel hot." She turned to Royce. "Is she okay?"

"She can't regulate her body temp very well with the mesh circuits disrupted. She just needs to take it easy. Which she won't."

Etienne ran her hands through my hair, and I closed my eyes for a second.

"Are you worried about tomorrow?" she asked.

I sighed. "Yeah. About tomorrow. About tonight. They've got Leo with them, but the Undergrid is still a dangerous place."

Royce frowned. "I don't like them down there, but I also think anyone that mistreats animals deserves to rot in hell."

Etienne gestured to the desserts. "Please, help yourself," she said to Royce.

"I don't know how I could refuse. This all smells great," he said and started sampling different pastries.

"You didn't have to do all this," I said.

She gave an awkward laugh. "Oh...sorry. I bake when I'm nervous. Hope you don't mind me borrowing your kitchen. Your facilities are incredible."

"The kitchen is yours, as far as I'm concerned," I said.

"We can give the extras to your staff."

Royce was stuffing éclairs into his face. "Or you can just give them all to me. Don't tell Alice, but I wouldn't mind borrowing you every now and then."

"Royce," I said.

"What, I'm just joking."

Etienne laughed. "I'll be sure to send some your way whenever I try new recipes."

I nibbled at a petite madeleine—buttery and delicious, just as I expected. Way better than Augustine's chef at his stupid sailboat of a hotel.

I swallowed a mouthful of cookie. "I should bring the drone up to the roof, take it for a spin before tomorrow, make sure I can still fly right. I've never done this without mesh before," I said, falling quiet on the last sentence.

I'd never worried about winning a drone race before—I was the best. But how much of that was me, and how much was the mesh?

"What's wrong?" Etienne said. "You're shivering."

"She needs to go to bed, that's what's wrong," Royce said.

I shook my head. "Not until I inspect the drone."

Alice had spent the last few days tinkering with a new design—something that would still be legal in the competition, but would give me a serious edge in the race.

"You're worried that you can't fly it without the mesh?" Etienne said.

I nodded—no energy for bravado. Both of them had seen me stripped, in every sense of the word. There wasn't anything left to hide.

Etienne put her hands on my knees. "Look. I knew you before you had the mesh. There's a reason you got selected for that awful program. You're incredible. I watched you beat every game on the streets. No one ever outsmarted you, or matched your speed. I know the mesh enhanced that, but some of that is just you. All Jin."

Objectively, vainly, she was right—I'd always been good, always fast. That's how I survived, helped my friends to survive.

I just hoped it was enough.

"Adriana," I said. "Bring me the item from storage 115. Send it through the conference delivery portal."

"Message received," the system responded.

A minute later, the center of the table retracted, and the drone rose up on the platform.

"Damn. I don't even like those things, but that's phenomenal," Royce said, shaking his head. "Alice is something else."

"You're so cute when you're in love," I said and he glared at me.

"You're having way too much fun with this," he said, and Etienne laughed.

"Sorry, you guys are just adorable," she said.

"You're right, though. This is beyond turbo," I said.

Purple and tactical black with gold accents, the huge drone looked like a flamboyant fighter jet. Part rock star, part assassin, the drone was all sharp angles and rocket thrusters. Just looking at it, I knew it had to be fast.

Very fast.

Hopefully not so fast I couldn't control it.

I picked up the controller, making sure I was familiar with all the little steering and braking features. Although familiar with Alice's designs from the bee drones, this was different.

This monster was all about speed and power.

I looked around. "There's not enough space for a drone this size, but I'll give it a shot."

Finger on the ignition, it roared to life, filling the big room with a powerful rumbling.

Just as I thought—this thing was not meant for stealth. It was nothing but a big rocket. With that in mind, very carefully, I eased forward on the controller. Slowly...slowly, feeling it out, just a little more juice.

It shot forward, zooming across the room, and I hit the brakes just before it crashed into the opposite wall. Hastily, I landed it and dropped the controller, stunned.

"Holy shit," Royce said. "Glad I don't have to fly that. I'd crash it for sure."

I swallowed. It was so fast.

And suddenly, I was not.

I didn't know if I could handle this thing.

Doubt, so deep in my bones it almost hurt.

"Christ," I said, putting down the controller. "It's too late to switch out our registration, or I'd have Alice enter for us instead. All of our money is riding on this. And it has to be me. Oh god, what have we done."

If we failed, not only would we lose K-Town and Venice Beach to Augustine, but the company would be financially compromised.

I might lose Jin Tower.

"Take a breath. Try it again," Etienne said. "You just need to adjust to the difference in your reaction time. You can do this."

Nervously, I ate a whole handful of madeleines, slurped some coffee. "I've always said that your pastries are magical. Maybe that will do the trick," I said, taking the controller again and restarting the drone.

This time, I moved with extra care. I had to give my hands more time to react to the drone's movements, let my eyes and my brain have time to trace its path in the air.

It wasn't smooth, and it wasn't pretty, but I flew the thing around the room without crashing it into the walls.

"You did it!" Etienne said.

I wish I could have shared her enthusiasm. I frowned. "I don't know. Might be easier outdoors where I don't have to worry about crashing. Should take it to the roof, make sure I can fly it out there."

I dropped the controller again. Without realizing it, my hands were shaking.

I was shaking.

"Jin?" Etienne said.

Royce squatted in front of me, felt my forehead, touched my cheeks.

"Absolutely not—now you're really running a fever. You'll never even make it to the race if you keep pushing it. You need to take your meds and go to bed. Let me guess, you skipped your afternoon doses?"

I bit my tongue. "It's possible."

"Thought so. Either walk to your bedroom on your own, or I'm carrying you back to the clinic and handcuffing you to a gurney. I need to sleep at some point too," he said.

I hated it when he was right. I was shivering so hard, the only thing I wanted to do was climb into bed and go to sleep. I looked at Alice's drone, the purple stripes across the nose looking like war paint.

I just wasn't sure that I was ready for the battle.

***

In my private suite, I sat on the edge of my bed, happy to be back, but it didn't feel right without Lucky.

His bed was empty.

But my bed was full.

Etienne sat next to me, biting her lip and looking away while Royce finished ripping bandages off my chest. I winced as he cleansed the wounds.

"Don't screw around with those antibiotics. You do not want a cardiac infection on top of everything else. Your incisions are looking a little inflamed," he said.

"Feels that way too," I said.

He pulled my pajamas back over my shoulders and I hugged myself, still shivering from the fever.

"That's hard to watch," Etienne said.

I turned to her. "Sorry. This should all be over within a few weeks."

Something stabbed me in the arm.

"Ouch," I said as Royce jabbed me with a second syringe.

"Not if you keep forgetting to take your medication," he said. "You'll never heal."

"What is that?" I asked.

"Antibiotics, fever-reducer, pain medication. So you can sleep."

"I don't care if I'm dying in the morning, one of you better put me in a car headed for San Diego. We need to be there by noon."

Royce held out a handful of horse-sized pills and a glass of water.

"More?" I said.

He nodded. "Immune boosters, extra anti-inflammatory, and a sleeping pill."

"Really? You're tranquilizing me anyway? I said I'd stay put."

"Do you want to recover or not?"

I rolled my eyes, but took the pills and swallowed them. I stuck out my tongue to prove that I'd taken them all.

"Happy?" I said.

"Happy's taking it a little far. Let's go with satisfied, for now," he said. "You should start feeling better in a minute or two. Like you would have anyway if you'd let me keep you down at the clinic."

"I'm more comfortable in my own room," I said.

"I'll be down the hall in my other room," Royce said and turned to Etienne. "I'm putting you in charge of watching her. You come get me immediately if she isn't doing well. The fever reducers will start working soon, and the sedatives should make her sleep through the night, but don't take any chances if anything seems wrong."

Etienne scooted behind me and put her arms around my back. "No chances. You can count on me."

Royce nodded and started to leave. He turned around just before closing the door. "Hey Jin," he said.

"Yeah?"

"You can do it. Let Etienne take care of you, and in the morning, you'll be ready."

I smiled. "Thanks Royce."

He winked at us and then left the room.

"Why don't we lay down?" Etienne said.

"That sounds like the best idea I've heard this year."

"Let me help you," she said, easing me backwards onto the pillows so that I didn't have to move my arms too much.

She must have showered recently because she smelled like sweet peas and spring rain. Pulling the covers over us, she curled behind me, laying her delicate arm over my stomach. She nuzzled her face into the back of my neck, kissing me gently. I shivered once, but it had nothing to do with my fever. I held her hand, her soft fingers knit between mine.

"Are you comfortable? Cold?" she said.

"No," I said. "Hold me like this forever, and I'll never be cold again."
Chapter Thirty-Eight

Located just north of San Diego, the Del Mar Race Grounds were an impossible course. Part of it went through a twisted maze of coastal cypress trees, and the other section went over the ocean. Strong winds made flying tricky, especially if you were using speed boosts.

Normally, that wouldn't have bothered me. I knew I could handle it. Now, I was worried about just keeping the damned drone in the air.

No word from Gavin or Alice, and I didn't dare try to contact them. They might be in a precarious position, undercover waiting to break into Augustine's fortress, and disrupting that would be deadly. I knew the Undergrid took time to traverse if you were going through forbidden sectors, but that didn't make me feel better.

Somehow, I had to put that out of my mind, focus on the task at hand.

The race was in less than thirty minutes.

"You're familiar with the Undergrid, you used to spend a bunch of time down there, didn't you?" I said to Royce. "Should it be taking this long?"

He put his shoulders back, tried to look confident. "It could. They had a long way to go, and a tough location to infiltrate. Let's not panic yet."

"The words coming out of your mouth and the look on your face don't, match," I said, and he glared at me.

"Just focus on the race. We'll deal with everything else after that," Royce said.

That was actually a legit suggestion—I needed to calm down, think positive thoughts, pump myself up. I wasn't alone, and that meant a lot.

It also reminded me that this wasn't just some selfish endeavor—I employed a lot of people. If SEI went under, thousands of jobs would be lost. And Augustine. Augustine would get his fingers into Venice Beach and K-Town.

I couldn't let that happen.

I had to win this.

We stood outside the gates, waiting to be processed. Alice's drone was back there, going through pre-race inspection.

On the other side of the gate, I spotted an unwelcome face.

Augustine. Hair slicked back, black pinstripe suit, rose in his breast pocket, big smirk on his face.

He waved at me.

Of course he was here. He wasn't a racer himself, but I'm sure he put money on the other top flyers. He would just love to see me crash and burn.

Royce and Etienne followed me as I approached the gate and gave my registration papers to the race officials. Augustine approached, and I mentally told myself to hold it together.

"Ah, Jin, so nice to see you. Looks like it's going to be an interesting day for flying." He pointed to the sky.

Dark clouds were gathering and the wind was picking up.

"Hope you brought a raincoat. I'd hate to see such a nice suit get wet," I said, narrowing my eyes, knowing he'd remember how I'd dumped a drink in his crotch.

He just smiled at me. "Same for you. Lovely outfit, as always," he said. "I am the surprise you can still afford those kinds clothes...your wagers on this race, I have seen. Bold. Very bold. Enjoy that style while you can."

I was wearing a bright yellow Milton Wong suit, and it was perfect for today—loose enough in the chest that it didn't put pressure on my incisions, and the high cut hid the bandages on my neck and chest. I liked to think that the bright color was a good warning to my competitors—watch out.

"May the best man win," I said, wishing the inspectors would hurry the hell up and process me. I didn't know how long I could keep it civil.

"Excuse me, inspectors, did you scan this contestant for implants yet?" Augustine said.

I narrowed my eyes. What was he playing at?

One of the inspectors looked up from a tablet. "Not yet. Why?"

"She is known for being unnaturally fast. We should be assured that she is thoroughly scanned," he said.

I nodded at the official. "I have a standard biosensor, and a pacemaker."

Royce and Alice had both assured me that the Seoul circuit would scan as a typical pacemaker. Most of the components were made out of the same material as the mesh—not easily detectable by normal scanners. The only part that would register was the Anthracite—the stuff Alice had fished out of the ocean. They said it would be fine, but now I was worried.

If officials were suspicious, they might go to more extreme measures.

Augustine raised an eyebrow. "A pacemaker, eh? That is new. Perhaps that is why you look so sick today."

That actually got to me—I'd paid special attention to my hair and makeup, not wanting any of my competitors to smell blood. No one needed to know that I wasn't well, but Augustine was a keen observer.

Somehow he'd clocked that I was ill.

"I'm just fine," I said. "Thank you for your heartfelt concern." Get it? Heartfelt? Yeah, I wasn't laughing either.

"Step over here Ma'am," the inspector said to me.

I tried not to hold my breath while the official ran a scanning wand over me and had me stand in a conductance booth, holding two metal handles while a green beam waved over me from head to toe. It beeped twice, and I closed my eyes, waiting.

"You're clean," the inspector said. "You can proceed to the pilot's platform."

I snickered. "It's always good to have someone making sure we're following the rules. Now when I win, you can be sure I deserved it."

Ironically, it was true. Without the mesh, it was just me naked against all the other competitors. A fair fight.

"I just hope you are still lucky," he said, lingering on the lucky.

My hands balled into fists.

"Sir, you'll need to move along to the spectators booths," an inspector said to Augustine.

"Have a safe flight. I hope you do not injure yourself in this race. You look so unwell," he said and walked back into the crowd.

We waited for him to disappear and then moved to the side.

"Do I really look that bad?" I said.

"No, you look fine. Nice, actually. You've done a good job of making yourself look healthy," Royce said.

"Thanks. From you, I actually believe it," I said.

"He must have heard something about you being sick," Etienne said.

I looked at my watch. "We better go. Sure you don't mind sitting alone in the VIP box?" I said to Etienne.

"I'd love to be next to you, but I think it's better to keep Royce by your side, just in case you start feeling sick," she said.

"And Royce is just so motivating," I said.

"I motivate your heart to keep beating—that's important," Royce said.

"I'm just kidding. We make a pretty good drone team at this point, actually."

"I'm just happy I'm not the one flying. Mesh or not, you're still a better pilot than I'll ever be," he said.

"Let's hope so," I said. "Or we may as well pack up our drone and sign Jin Tower over to Augustine."

I meant it as a joke, but I spooked myself thinking about the consequences of losing.

Etienne grabbed my face with both hands and pulled me in for a long, deep kiss. If she meant to distract me from my own destructive thoughts, it worked.

"Whoa. That was nice," Royce said.

"Gross. Watch it, or I'll tell Alice," I said.

Royce shrugged. Yeah, I didn't think Alice would care either.

"Good luck," Etienne said. "I'll be cheering you from below."

I kissed her one more time and she headed into the crowd.

Royce and I gazed up at the pilot's platform—it rocked back forth in the wind as the storm gathered and the clouds darkened.

"Ready or not, here we come," I said, and started climbing into the sky.

***

Below the high platform, spectators swayed back and forth. Wearing bright green viewing visors, they looked like one giant sea creature ebbing in the ocean current. This was it. The biggest drone race in the world. And I had to win it. Thirty other pilots, and we'd all be racing at the same time, hoping to get our hands on the huge cash prize and any other winnings from carefully placed bets.

I wanted to vomit.

The wind gusted, and rain sprinkled down in sparse, but fat drops. From the platform, the view of the coast was magnificent, but it made the impending storm look even more threatening—all the waves getting bigger and bigger, crashing with increasing force along the shore. This would not be an easy race. I just had to hope I was better at controlling my drone in a storm than the rest of the competition.

I sat in my comfortable pilot's chair, grateful that we weren't required to stand for this race. It would let me put all my concentration the drone.

"Here you go," Royce said, handing me the visor. "I'm right here if you need anything. I'll be watching the race with you this time." He put a visor on himself then gently squeezed my shoulders

I put a hand on his. "I'm ready. Let's show Augustine that he's not welcome in our city."

Royce moved his hands and gave me one last big thumbs up. I grabbed the controller and switched on the drone, the enormous purple-streaked jet louder than all the other machines. Fingers on all the buttons, eyes wide and ready to go: The announcer started counting down.

One.

Two.

Three.

START.

The holographic neon track curved into the air, a big wash of violet streaking over the trees and beyond, out to the ocean like the tail of some atomic shooting star. My drone exploded onto the track, wobbly at first, but then I surrendered to its power, feeling its flow, letting those vibrations ease into my joints, tell me how to steer it. Over the years, my natural nerves had also learned to adapt, to react quickly, and all of that muscle memory was still there.

I could still fly.

It was different than before, but I could still do it.

This was all me.

And I was winning.

My drone took the lead, and I silently thanked Alice for the magnificent hardware. With just a few other drones on my tail, I sent the mine shooting through the curves of the track, around buildings, up and through cypress trees, then straight into the sky in a surprise vertical corkscrew that sent my head spinning. I watched several other drones lose control and crash into the water.

This track was no joke. If you fell off for just one second, if your drone broke the edge of that neon glow, then that was it. You were out. Disqualified for breaching the track.

That wasn't going to happen. I had this, moving with more precision through all of the turns than any of the other drones, shaving seconds, then minutes off my time as I found the best place in each section to turn, to glide, or to brake and coast.

"Yes!" Royce said, and I knew he was finally getting the thrill of racing, why it was so amazing, almost as good as flying for real. Even as a spectator, you were right there in the action, flying along like you were the drone.

I was doing it. I was in the lead.

We were going to win.

And it really was my win. Not the mesh. Just me. Alice's drone helped, but any good pilot needs good equipment, and in the wrong hands, this drone would have been worth absolutely nothing.

Just a few more laps, and that would be it. Everything would be ours again.

I started to say something to Royce when my drone hit an easy straightaway, but something grabbed me by the throat.

Like, actually grabbed my throat.

I thought it was Royce at first, maybe checking my pulse. My heart was beating hard, and I was breathing fast, but that was normal in an intense race.

The grip tightened, and I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Electricity shot through my limbs and spasms rocked my body.

I dropped the controller and fell to the floor, visor slipping off my face.

Shouting, screams.

Whistles blowing.

"You son of a bitch!" Royce yelled and something thumped against the deck.

I rolled to the side, clutching my chest.

"Royce," I said. "What's. Happening."

He appeared by my side, shifting me onto my back. "Some asshole shocked you with a device. Looks like an electrical disruptor of some sort. I knocked his ass out," he said.

"That's hot."

Royce laughed for a second. "You would try to make a joke at a time like this." He reached down to feel my pulse.

"My chest. Hurts."

"That thing disrupted your heart rhythm. I'm guessing this was courtesy of Augustine—wish he hadn't been there to hear you had a pacemaker," Royce said. "Hey! Safety officers! I need a defibrillator over here."

Staff carried over a bag of emergency equipment, and he pulled out a stethoscope.

He listened to my heart for a second. "Shit. I'm sorry Jin, but I need to shock you." "Again?"

"Your heart's beating in a dangerous rhythm. I need to shock it back to normal," he said. "It will hurt for a second, but it won't kill you...hopefully."

I groaned as he moved my hands off my chest, opened my jacket, and put the paddles on my chest.

"Clear," he said.

More electricity sang through my body, and I gasped, the sharp pain radiating out from my heart and down my fingertips.

Royce listened with his stethoscope again, nodded his head. "Okay. You're okay," he said, and it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

I gagged, groaned, wrapped my arms around my chest. "That did not feel good."

Royce looked at the sky. "As long as you don't get struck by lightning, your heart should hold up." Thunder rumbled. "Just don't press your luck."

***

I sat in the pilot's chair, head in my lap, breathing slowly, Royce's hands on my back.

"Breathe. You're just in shock," he said.

"Yeah, the shock part I got. Twice."

I couldn't see his face, but knew he was scowling at me.

A race official trotted over, and I sat up again.

"Ms. Song. The perpetrator has been arrested, but I'm afraid we can't postpone the race. You're free to continue, if you feel well enough, but your drone was lost in the ocean," he said. "You'll forfeit all your wagers for the time being, if you quit. You can petition to get them back, but expect that to take at least six months."

Alice's drone. Gone. She was going to get pissed that I kept crashing her toys in the ocean.

"I didn't bring a backup," I said. I wasn't allowed to—mechanical failure was part of the race process. If you brought an experimental, faulty drone, that was on you. One machine per contestant.

"We can provide you a stock, regulation drone. Nothing fancy, but it's fair," he said.

I looked up at Royce.

"I'd tell you to just throw in the towel, but I know you won't accept it. Medically, your heart's okay. Mentally, I can't tell you, but from the way you're still shaking, it's probably not good," he said.

"You know me too well," I said to him and then turned to the official. "Bring me the stock drone, and I'll continue with the race."

The official nodded and then mumbled into a radio.

"Just take a few minutes to calm down, forget the trauma. I'm sure that fucking hurt," Royce said.

"Sounds like it scared you too," I said.

"No kidding. I thought you were a goner there for a second," he said.

I glared at him over my shoulder. "You're doing a great job of helping me calm down."

"Well, you don't accept platitudes. Truth is all I have left for you."

I smiled. In some ways, that was comforting. I could always trust Royce to tell it to me straight.

I did the best I could to center myself, watching as the storm poured water on the crowd, and the race staff put up tents for the spectators to huddle under. Up on the platform, the deck was covered, but splashes of rain still hit my face. They felt good, helped me focus on something else.

When the official brought back a new, plain grey drone, I was ready. Stock drone or not, I was going to win this thing.

The track system helped position each racer's drone back in the exact same place it was when the attack happened, minus a few seconds for engine starting. Staring back at the beginning would have been unfair—some racers would have seen more of the course already.

Once each drone was in place, hovering suspended in force fields, they counted us off, and then that was it:

Go.

Once again, the drone curled around the neon track, the iridescent purple hologram burning even more iridescently against the dark storm clouds. I blinked as lightning crashed nearby, cringing automatically, not wanting anything to do with more electricity.

The boxy gun-metal grey stock drone wasn't nearly as responsive, and nowhere near as fast, and I had to use every bit of my skill to eke out seconds from the course; nothing could be wasted. This time, the competition was closer on my heels, inching forward, threatening to overtake me around some of the tricky turns.

And in real life, my chest hurt. It burned from the defibrillator, and my hands weren't entirely steady.

It was costing me, and a few times, one of the other drones, a lithe blue and white Darter model got in front of me, creeping a full nose ahead.

We swooped low over the last lap, dipping down near the spectators. My eyes were focused on the violet track lights, but I spotted something as we dipped nearly eye-level with the crowd.

Down there, right at the edge of the tents near the finish line: Gavin, Alice, and Lucky.

They did it. They were alive, and they rescued Lucky.

Gavin waved at me, a huge grin on his face. He gave me a big thumbs up as my ugly little drone zoomed past.

That image was all I needed to pull it together and make this thing work.

Forget the pain in my chest.

Forget the shaking in my hands.

Forget any doubt I had about my skills.

This race was mine.

I hit the throttle and punched it up as fast as the stock engine would go, wobbly feedback in the controller's haptics vibrating my in my palms, but I wouldn't let go. I pushed it and dragged the drone back on course, shooting through the last long corkscrew and over the exit portal before the Darter made it through the last spiral.

I landed the drone, and the buzzer went off, crowd cheering, running out into the rain and setting off noisemakers.

"Jin! You did it! We won!" Royce said.

I tossed my visor and the controller into my pilot's seat, and jumped straight up, my hands in the air, not caring how much it hurt.

"Yes!" I yelled.

Royce hugged me, and squeezed hard, his huge arms nearly wrapping all the way around me.

"Ah, Royce, ouch, come on, are you trying to stop my heart again?"

He laughed. "Sorry. Man. That was spectacular. Hyojin Song, you really are something."

I winked at him. "You know," I said. "I always did think I had a lot of guts. Now I know I also have a lot of heart."

"That was awful," Royce said, but couldn't help laughing some more.

I shrugged. "When you've almost died as many times as I have, I think I have the right to some bad jokes." I held out my hand. "Come on. Let's go find the others. We've got a lot of celebrating to do."

He took my hand. "You've got a lot of napping to do. Unless one heart attack isn't enough for the day."

"Alright, you got me there," I said. "But when I feel better, I'm throwing the biggest party Pasadena's ever seen."

"I'd expect nothing less."

We waded through the clump of disappointed racers on the platform and climbed down to the excited mass of spectators. People waved paper in my face, clamoring for autographs or interview statements, but I could only think of one thing.

Smiling at me, at the bottom of the platform, my own little bit of sunshine in the storm: Etienne, holding a bouquet of yellow roses.

The flowers were a nice touch, but nothing could be sweeter than this moment. Gavin and Alice were back safely. My dog was safe. I was alive.

And we were all about to be very, very rich.

I had everything I wanted, and more, and with Etienne around, I really would get to have my cake and eat it too.

Very sweet, indeed.
Chapter Thirty-Nine

We all sat in a row of bleachers along the edges of the long cement tunnel—I had no idea this thing was down here. Amazing what might lie right beneath your feet.

I scratched Lucky's head as he looked up at me, panting and smiling. Normally I wouldn't take dogs to the Undergrid, but lately I felt safer keeping the things I loved nearby. With Augustine on the loose, you couldn't be too careful.

But it was only a matter of time.

K-Town was mine.

Venice was mine.

I'd run him clear out of town if it was the last thing I did.

Until then, I would enjoy all the spoils of being a winner.

Etienne and Gavin sat on either side of me, Lucky in front, Royce and Alice behind me—surrounded by all my favorite people.

There were worse fates.

"How's your hand?" I asked Gavin.

He held it up and flexed it, gave me one of his mischievous smiles.

"Never better." He turned around. "Thanks to Royce."

"Anytime," he said. "Actually, no. Now that Alice has recovered, I'm officially on vacation. Nobody break themselves for at least the next month."

I laughed. "I'll do my best."

Alice touched her chest. "Thanks to Jin for being the guinea pig. No problems for me now."

"Apparently that's my middle name," I said with fake irritation.

In reality, it had been nice having Alice to convalesce with, but I'm Royce got more than his fill of stubborn patients between the two of us. Turns out neither of us liked people telling us what to do. I think Royce appreciated having Etienne around—she was such a peacemaker, and she did a better job of making me listen to reason. And I'm sure he didn't mind the endless stream of pastries.

Royce squeezed my shoulder. "Hopefully those days are over," he said. "If it makes you feel better, now that we've perfected the circuit design, we can help a lot of other people."

I wasn't a particularly altruistic person, but it was something of a consolation. "I'll take it," I said. "Now I just need another decade to push all those memories back into a deep vault."

"Wasn't all bad, was it?" Etienne said.

I smiled. "No, no it wasn't. I won't forget those parts."

There were still some problems to resolve—what was going to happen to the Chaebol in the wake of Tae-min's death? Was there anyone left that might come looking for us? Eventually, I needed to fix my legal problems so I could travel back and forth to Korea without having to dig any marrow tags out of my body—never doing that again. My collarbones were staying put. After three surgeries, Royce said they couldn't handle anymore trauma anyway.

But for the moment, I just wanted to strengthen our home base—set up the buildings in K-Town and Venice, get our finances back on track.

And we still needed one big party.

That part, we'd take care of tonight.

Gideon and Leo walked down the tunnel in our direction, picking their way through the motley crowd. People cruised by with a bizarre variety of implants sticking out of every orifice—LEDs blinking from beneath metal-studded clothing, pipes jutting from skulls, wires radiating from fingertips. The Circuit Breakers sure did know how to accessorize. Good thing Royce had another way to help people with augments gone awry. I looked away as a skinny man with a blue Mohawk swatted at sparks that exploded from his ears.

"Hey," Gideon said.

"Howdy," I said. "Lovely day for a race."

"Thanks again for giving up that car. Caramel can't get enough."

"No problem. Thanks for helping me get my dog back."

Gideon held his hand out, and Lucky came over to lick it. "Glad he came back okay."

"You're looking good, Jin," Leo said, bouncing his sword over his shoulder.

I raised an eyebrow. "Never better."

Loud engine noises growled down the tunnel, and my long-lost Lotus appeared on the race strip. Caramel threw it into park and jumped out.

Absolutely resplendent in light purple ruffles, Caramel pranced over to us, stopping to give Gideon a kiss.

"Ooh, Jin! You came!" She jogged over and hugged me around the neck. "I love your car so much!" The LEDs in her arms blinded me briefly.

"My pleasure," I said as she pulled away.

I heard Royce chuckling behind me and I shot him a look.

"I heard you're having a party tonight," Caramel said. "We can't come up, of course, but I can lend you some party clothes."

"That's very kind of you," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. I thought I looked particularly good that afternoon—fire engine red Emory Zamora suit embellished with sunset orange details, glossy black Elaine Ibanez stiletto boots, both from their advance collections. Those pieces weren't even out on the market yet.

"I like your style—I'd love to go shopping in your collection," Alice said to Caramel.

Seriously? I thought Alice had better sense than that...

"Hi Alice! Yes, please come by for tea later. I just made some new petticoats."

A buzzer sounded.

"Gotta go," Caramel said. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," we all said, and she skipped back into her car.

I couldn't believe that some elite hacker lived inside that ruffle-coated, LED-studded body, but I had a lot to thank her for—she's the one that cracked the code for the Seoul Circuit.

That still didn't mean I wanted to have tea with her. Alice could have that honor all to herself.

"Sounds like you guys really hit it off," I said.

"She's fun," Alice said. "Brilliant mind."

I shook my head. Unbelievable.

"Sad you don't get to be in the race?" Royce said.

"Nope. I am so totally fine staying off any racing circuits for the foreseeable future. Being nearly shocked to death once this year is enough for me."

Other cars took their places on the track, and a second buzzer sounded. The Lotus charged out ahead, totally smoking the competition. In minutes the race was over, and Caramel jumped out, hands in the air, ruffles bouncing everywhere as she celebrated her victory.

I smiled. Even without me behind the wheel, the Lotus was a winner, and a win for our team was good enough for me.

***

I kept trying to decide what floor to have the party on, thinking of how the different entertainment available on each of the levels would lend itself to various types of fun, but in the end, I knew there was only one space for that kind of thing:

The roof.

My favorite place.

For one night, and one night only, the roof of Jin Tower was open to all VIPs and investors, and it was filling up fast. Good thing the fire marshals in this town were on my side.

Alice helped with the decorations, and it looked suspiciously like a busy night in Wonderland—neon sculptures everywhere, tables filled with glowing beverages, sparkles covering every surface of the catering tables and guest seats. Not that anyone was sitting.

In the center of the roof, a huge DJ platform pumped out music, pulsing out into the night loud enough that I thought it could make the clouds move. I felt the bass in my chest, and I closed my eyes for a minute, letting the rhythm take hold of me.

"Stop messing with the food and come over here," I yelled at Etienne, hoping she'd hear me over the music, or at least see me gesturing. Even though I told her she didn't have to be in charge of anything, she couldn't help herself—and let's get serious, getting food from anywhere else wouldn't have been half as good.

She looked gorgeous as always, wearing a full-length white silk evening gown—a classic Bernard Eisely from my closet, and it looked way better on her than it did on me. I'd squeezed into another dress from the same line, but mine was tight and gold. We made a nice pair.

"I'm done, it's all set up. Now we can enjoy the evening," she said.

I took a sip of my martini—filthy, just like I liked it—and looked around. "Where are Royce and Alice?"

Etienne pointed at the stairs. "There—wow."

Wow was right. Royce was wearing an actual Tuxedo—somehow we'd found one that actually fit over his damned shoulders. The real spectacle was Alice. Wearing a shimmering dress that matched the color of her mermaid hair, she was covered with more ruffles and sparkles than I thought could possibly fit into one outfit.

I laughed as they traipsed across the roof. "Let me guess. Caramel," I said.

"She made this especially for me—great isn't it?" Alice said.

I nodded. She did look spectacular, like a living wave of color. "It's pretty amazing."

Gavin bounded up the stairs behind them, totally tricked out in party gear. He'd dyed his hair bright red, and he wore a flashy jacket covered with red sequins. Black muscle shirt, red tie looped around his neck, white gloves, and to tie it all together: super tight red leather pants.

I whistled. "Damn, you look good," I said. "I'm jealous."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "I am so ready to party."

And damned if he didn't deserve it.

He grinned. "So what are we waiting for?" He snagged a glass of champagne from one of the circulating waiters and shimmied onto the dance floor.

We danced into the night, drinking all we wanted, stuffing our faces with expensive food, getting sloppy and not caring one bit. Gavin totally let loose, climbing up on the DJ's platform, dancing to a cheering crowd. He really knew how to shake it, and it was great to see him so happy. I couldn't remember the last time we'd had a night full of nothing but wild debauchery, and this one didn't disappoint.

When we were all sweaty and out of breath from dancing, we retreated to the edge of the roof, and gazed down at the Pasadena strip in all its scintillating glory. My empire.

Our empire.

"I brought a little something," Alice said, dragging a box over to the ledge. "I finally finished a new batch--thought it might be the right night to give it another go."

I peeked into the box: it was filled with dozens of bee drones.

"New design?" I asked.

"Better than ever," she said. "Figured you should the first one to test the whole swarm. You in?"

Everyone froze for a second, waiting for me to respond.

I smiled. "Damn right," I said.

Alice smiled back and passed around the equipment. They all put on the visors, still swaying to the music, waiting for the adventure to begin.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the mesh crackle up my synapses.

Planting my feet, I shoved the visor over my eyes and grabbed the controller. I dialed in the commands to activate the entire swarm, and they rose into the air, humming around us in a giant cloud.

"Hang on," I said, grinning. "It's going to be a wild ride."
About the Author

Tamara Boyens was what happens when a coastal Californian washes up among the prickly pears. Although she's a connoisseur of saguaro cacti and heatstroke, she was still a fish out of water who doesn't actually like seafood. As a professionally trained linguist, she spent most of her time hanging around words, and usually those words are up to no good. When she's not accidentally hugging cacti, she could be found at the bottom of a coffee cup in Tucson, Arizona.

