The Ghost stands up, turning back to Asher. He raises his kinetic rifle, aiming not at Asher’s head, but at his shifting, metallic arm.
He wants to see what the weapon will do. He wants to test the biological anchor.
I am twenty feet away. The jammer is still active, cutting off my mental link to Kade. I am entirely mortal. I am entirely alone.
I raise my sidearm, my hands shaking from the frostbite, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I have one shot. If I miss, the Ghost kills Asher. If I hit the Ghost’s visor, the kinetic feedback might kill Asher.
But Asher isn't looking at the Ghost.
He is looking at me.
His mismatched eyes—one green, one silver—are wide with terror. The violet light is creeping up his neck, the geometric lattice pulsing with cold, unyielding logic. The echo is wh
