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She stood, kissing me quickly on the head as
she did, before turning to Ayo. “Come on, sweetie,” she called.
“Why don’t you come into the kitchen and help me with
dinner?”

He glanced at me, but I saw a flash of
interest in his eyes. He loved the kitchen. He loved the heat of
the oven and the simple pleasure of dough in his hands.

“He makes great turnovers, if you happen to
have any fruit lying around,” I said.

Anzhéla laughed. “I have a few grapes that
look more like raisins than anything, but we might be able to make
do.”

Ayo almost smiled. He pushed away from the
wall, stepping slowly toward Anzhéla.

“Good idea,” Aleksey said, setting his glass
aside. “I’ll come with you.”

Ayo winced, and Anzhéla scowled. But Aleksey
swept them both up with an arm over their shoulders. “Those fish
won’t bake themselves.”

***

“So,” Frey said when Anzhéla and Aleksey had
gone, “what do you think?”

“About being an ambassador to Lower Davlova? I
think it’s a joke.”

“Anzhéla doesn’t.”

“The governors will never accept
it.”

“What if they did? Would you do
it?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.” Maybe I could
do some good, but the truth was, it wasn’t the desire that burned
brightest in my heart. The question was, could I trust
Frey?

It was a gamble I had to take.

“Can I ask you a favor?” I asked
quietly.

Frey picked up Anzhéla’s abandoned wine and
took her spot on the couch. “Anything.”

“Donato left me some money. It’s in a safe. He
gave me the combination, but I couldn’t figure out how to open
it.”

He waved a hand as if it were inconsequential.
“Easy.”

I chewed my lip, debating. “What about
Anzhéla?”

“What do you mean? Are you planning to use
whatever’s in that safe against her?”

“Of course not. It’s just…” I rubbed the back
of my neck uncomfortably. “It’s for Ayo and me, that’s all. It’s a
way for us to start a life without resorting to being whores or
thieves.”

“You don’t want to share.”

When he said it that way, I felt like an
asshole. “I only meant—”

He laughed and held up his hands. “Peace,
Misha. It’s fine. Back in the old days, you paid her what you took
from pockets, but whatever you made on the side was your own.” He
shrugged. “I see no reason this should be any different. As far as
I’m concerned, you earned whatever that man gave you. You let him
fuck you. You let him beat you. I know it wasn’t easy. I saw the
bruises. I know what you went through — not only for Anzhéla, but
for Donato, and for Ayo. But in the end, you did what needed to be
done. And
she
got paid for that, Misha. Don’t think for a
minute Anzhéla didn’t make more than her fair share on that deal.
You owe her nothing.”

Hearing it was a relief, but his words brought
up a new question. Donato had paid for me to be his whore, but
somebody else had paid for me to be a spy. “Who was her client?” I
asked.

Frey didn’t need me to clarify. “There were
several. Donato had a lot of enemies.”

“Like who?”

“Benedict, for one.”

“What?
Anzhéla worked with
Benedict?”

“Against my advice, yes. She took his money,
but I don’t think she ever told him anything. That could be part of
why he came for her.”

“Who else?”

“One of the mayors. He was convinced Donato
was working to overthrow them.”

“He wasn’t. I don’t think he trusted them, but
he wasn’t trying to bring them down either.” I stared out the
window toward the hill. “And Aleksey?”

Frey nodded, scowling as he sipped his wine.
“He was the biggest. He and two of the other men who now make up
the Board of Governors.”

“A total of five people paying
her.”

“Six, if you count Donato paying for your
services.”

It was a lot to take in. Back when I’d been in
the thick of it, I hadn’t held it against her, but suddenly the
entire setup felt like a betrayal. “He could have killed me. He
very nearly did.”

“I know. That’s why I say that whatever’s in
that safe, you earned it.”

We fell silent for a moment. Anzhéla’s laugh
echoed from somewhere in the house. Outside, the abandoned swing
swayed gently in the breeze.

Frey sat forward suddenly, setting the empty
glass aside. His dark eyes lingered on the door the others had
disappeared through. “I keep thinking about the revolution. I can’t
help but wonder about how it all went down, there at the end. I
wish I knew how much Aleksey had to do with it.”

An alarm began to sound in the recesses of my
brain. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Anzhéla being arrested when she was.
It was convenient in more ways than one. And when Aleksey found out
that we’d saved her…” He squinted as he thought back. “He seemed
awfully surprised to see her alive.”

“You think he sold her out to
Benedict?”

“I think it’s a possibility.”

“What does she think?”

Frey sighed and scrubbed his hands over his
face. He put his elbows on his knees and leaned closer to me,
lowering his voice. “The thing is, Benedict came into the lower
city without being seen. He came straight to the theater, and
through that door backstage. He—”

“Wait. The door backstage? That was always
locked.”

“Exactly. All my years there, I never even saw
it opened, but that night, it was.”

“Somebody knew he was coming.”

Frey nodded slowly. “And then Benedict took
her back through the wall again without being seen. Now, Anzhéla
says if Benedict knew a way through the wall, and Aleksey sold her
out, then Aleksey would have been able to get through the wall
too.”

“And so why would he have waited for somebody
else to open the gate,” I finished for him.

He nodded. “That’s her argument.” We both
glanced again toward the door, assuring ourselves nobody was
listening to us. “But I don’t believe it. Benedict had a lot of
secrets. It’s possible Aleksey arranged for Anzhéla’s arrest
without knowing how Benedict intended to carry it out.”

The alarm in my head grew louder. My fingers
tingled with adrenaline. I thought back to the night of the
revolution, to our surety that Benedict would be with his men
guarding the gate rather than keeping watch over
Anzhéla.

Ayo’s voice in my head said,
The only way
out is through.

“What ever happened to Benedict? Was he killed
when the wall came down?”

Frey shook his head. “He’s never been found. I
think whatever way he had out of Upper Davlova, he took it before
the gate blew.”

My mind reeled at the implications. I stood
and paced to the end of the room as the pieces came together. “I
heard a rumor in Deliphine that Benedict was there.” And now I knew
for a fact that Aleksey had been as well. Frey had told me as much
the day we’d strolled through the third quadrant. “And then the
Dollhouse let us go…”

And suddenly, it was all clear. Ayo’s greatest
value hadn’t been in his body, or in his knowledge. It had been his
proximity to me, and through me, his access to the most powerful
woman in Davlova.

I had no proof. I had nothing at all but a
hunch, but it fit. Aleksey, Ayo, and Anzhéla, all out of sight, and
I knew with a bright, horrible surety that this was the reason Ayo
had a third line of tattoos on his chest. I knew this was what he’d
sensed the night before as he clung to me and cried.

My heart burst into high speed.

“Where are they?”

Frey came to his feet, hearing the alarm in my
voice. “In the kitchen, I assume.”

“We have to hurry.”

He didn’t question. He immediately led me
through the door, into a hallway, moving quickly as my surety grew.
“Faster,” I urged.

“Misha, what’s going on?”

I didn’t have time to answer. A hoarse cry of
alarm echoed down the hallway, followed by a clamorous crash, and a
scream that raised the hair on my arms. Frey and I ran the last few
steps, skidding to a halt in the chaos of the kitchen.

Pots and pans littered the steaming, wet
floor, along with the potatoes that had obviously been boiling on
the stove. Anzhéla lay on her back in the middle of the kitchen,
Ayo straddling her waist. A large knife protruded from her
chest.

She wasn’t moving.

“No!” Frey screamed. He ran to her as Ayo rose
to his feet, staring uncomprehendingly down at his own hands.
“Anzhéla?” Frey pleaded as he leaned over her, checking for signs
of life. “Talk to me, honey. Tell me you’re all right.”

“What happened?” Ayo asked, his voice small
and shaky. He looked wildly around the room, his gaze finally
landing on me. His eyes were wide with fear. He held up his hands.
There wasn’t a drop of blood on them, although the left one was
wet, the skin already turning an angry pink. “What
happened?”

Gideon’s words echoed in my ears.
In the
very next moment, the deeper parts of her brain would rebel,
especially in somebody as gentle as Rhianne. The aftermath could
drive her mad.

I had to hope Ayo was stronger than
that.

The only way out is
through.

Frey was choking, fighting back sobs, pushing
on Anzhéla’s unmoving chest, and Ayo’s eyes filled with
tears.

“Oh Goddess, Misha, did I do that?”

There was too much to take in. The woman who
had been like a mother to me lying dead on the floor, my friend
devastated at her loss, Ayo horrified at his own implant-driven
actions, and beneath it all, my knowledge that Aleksey was somehow
behind it. I didn’t know which way to move, which one to go for,
whether to help Frey or comfort Ayo or confront Aleksey, and my
second of hesitation cost me everything.

“I’ll take that.” I felt the knife at my waist
disappear, and Aleksey moved from behind me and gestured with his
head at Ayo. “He attacked her, you know.”

“You must have given him the
command.”

Aleksey didn’t answer. He kept his eyes on me,
but directed his words to Frey. “I’ll lock them in the pantry until
we can get some guards here.”

Frey didn’t answer. He kept working on
Anzhéla, his hands and her chest both covered with blood as he
continued his compressions. Frey had always served as the doctor
for our clan, but it was clear nothing was going to save Anzhéla.
She was already gone. Frey knew it too. He just hadn’t decided to
accept it yet.

The only way out is
through.

I could try to fight. I could try to run. But
everything depended on Frey now, and I didn’t want to do anything
to make Ayo seem more guilty than he was.

“Move,” Aleksey said, brandishing my own knife
inexpertly in my direction.

“I’ll cooperate, as long as you let Ayo stay
with me.”

Aleksey moved from between us, still pointing
the knife in my direction.

“Misha?” Ayo said, his voice cracking with
tears. He was cradling his left hand in his right. The entire palm
was puffy and pink. He’d obviously burned it in the boiling water
in the commotion of attacking Anzhéla. “What have I
done?”

“Nothing,” I said, pulling him toward me while
keeping my eyes on Aleksey. “None of this is your fault.” I wrapped
one arm protectively around his slender shoulders. He felt smaller
than ever next to me, his entire body trembling. “It’s all going to
be fine.” I let Aleksey steer us toward the back of the kitchen,
around the corner so we were out of sight of Frey.

“It’s pulsing,” Ayo whispered. “The black
spot. I can feel it moving in my head. You should have killed me
when you had the chance.”

I silently cursed Aleksey and the Dollhouse. I
didn’t even mind that we were being locked in a pantry. All I
wanted was a moment alone with Ayo so I could hold him and reassure
him. And then at some point after that, I’d think about Anzhéla
lying dead on the kitchen floor. I’d let myself mourn. I’d start to
worry about how we’d ever get out of the mess Aleksey had made for
us. But first, I needed that moment of quiet in the eye of the
storm.

The only way out is
through.

“In here,” Aleksey said, pointing us into a
narrow closet lined with empty shelves.

Ayo cowered behind me, and I took his unburned
hand in mine. “I know you did this,” I said to Aleksey as I went
past him.

“Maybe,” he answered quietly. “But nobody
would believe your story, even if you had a chance to tell
it.”

I turned just in time to see him hand my knife
to Ayo. “
Aheera!”

He slammed the pantry door shut as Ayo
launched himself at me, his tear-streaked face horrifyingly blank.
I fell backward, tripping as I tried to stop the thrust of the
knife. I managed to get ahold of his thin wrist, but my head
crashed into shelves, stunning me as I hit the floor. Ayo straddled
my chest, pinning my arms to the ground, my knife held above our
heads, ready to be plunged into his next target.