Kriegspiel [Sequel to The Turing Test]

25. Evolve

"We have to—"

A siren interrupts me, and as much as I hope it's screaming for some other emergency far off in the city, it keeps getting louder and louder as it closes in.

"Too late," Sven says, reminding me of his presence. His eyes have closed off, and his voice carries an even harder edge now after witnessing the moment between Davis and I. For a split second, I wish that at least he hadn't seen it, but then I remember that it's his own fault.

I rush to the window, pressing my face against it and staring down at the sidewalk below. There they are, marching steadily down the same hill that I used to descend every day to get to work. Red and blue lights flash at the base of the SynCo building, and police flood the street, clutching their guns.

I dash for the door, but Davis grabs my arm and spins me back around.

"You can't go out there like this." His fingers skim my cheek, a feathery touch hovering just to the side of the gash Sven left. I glance at my ghostly reflection in the window, noting the metal and wires visible under the skin.

"I don't have a choice. I have to stop them."

"No, you don't. This isn't your responsibility."

"It wasn't your responsibility to comfort me when my fiancé cheated on me," I shoot back, but when I whirl around, I run smack into Sven.

I shudder as his hands wrap around my shoulders, but I force myself to meet his eyes, glaring up at him. I almost wish looks could kill. Almost.

His head tilts, his eyebrows tilted up in a wordless, earnest plea. "It's not safe. You can't go out there."

The two men exchange a glance, surprised to find themselves on the same side, but something else passes between them—an agreement, an alliance.

Against me.

I shrug out of his grip, my skin suddenly boiling. "I'm tired of hearing what I can't do!"

It's not lingering pieces of Darwin's rage that twists itself around my throat now. Whatever is left is all me, or what remains of me.

I don't even give my shout time to stop echoing before I continue. "How long? Two years. I can't drink. I can't come home after dark. I can't go anywhere without telling you. I can't give you what you need because I'm so emotionally withdrawn that you had to run to someone else!"

I shove Sven hard enough that he stumbles back a step. He watches me, his cool gaze steady and calculating, like he's trying to guess what might come out next. I hate it. I hate the way it's a game to him, the way we've all been playing by his rules while we don't even know the moves he's been making.

I follow his step back with one forward, invading his space. "You only ever told me I could do one thing. Do you remember? In the basement, you told me I could evolve."

I clench my teeth against a wave of something inside, and I keep in the scream it yearns to release, but I can't stop the creep of red across my vision. This time, though, it's mixed with something else, a muddy amalgamation of scarlet and gray that swirls into something deep and throbbing.

I grab Sven by the hair, something he used to love, and yank him down until his six and a half feet are bent awkwardly to my level. Then I bring my mouth to his ear.

"Watch me."

I shove him out of the way, hurtle toward the stairwell, and slam through the door, ignoring the calls of my name that follow me. I take the stairs two at a time, a cacophony of pounding bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. I can't distinguish how many footsteps—just mine? Are Sven and Davis chasing me? I imagine them shoving at each other in their attempts to reach me first.