Page 85 of Tag

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My blood ran ice cold.

“No,” I whispered.

Tag was already beside me. “What the hell is this?”

Lacey shrugged. “I don’t know. But the woman got real quiet after that. She told the others not to use the radios again. Then they moved us.”

I stared at the paper.

I looked up, vision swimming. “My father is Faron’s father. He died a long time ago. They have me mixed up with someone else.”

Lacey’s voice was quiet. “They lie about everything.”

Tag crouched beside me. “We’ll find out the truth. But right now, that girl is telling us someone inside Chimera believes you still belong to them.”

“No,” I said, my voice breaking. “I don't belong to anyone. They have me mixed up with another woman.”

He took my hand, threading our fingers together.

“No,” he agreed. “You don’t. But we’re going to burn every damn piece of this thing down so no one else ever has to wonder if they do.”

Lacey looked between us. “I want to help.”

I blinked. “What?”

“They taught me things,” she said softly. “Things I wasn’t supposed to understand. I know names. Places. I can draw them. But only if you promise to make them pay.”

I squeezed her hand. “You have my word.”

Tag stood. “We’re going to war.”

79

Tag

Lacey sat at the table, a steaming mug of cocoa in her hands, Blue hovering nearby like a mama hawk. The kid didn’t ask for anything except paper and colored pencils.

She’d already drawn five locations.

Four names.

Three were aliases we’d seen on Chimera’s files.

But the fifth?

The fifth stopped Aponi cold.

We all stood around the table, staring down at the fifth name, written in neat block letters across the top of the newest sheet:

TESSA LAWSON.

Faron frowned. “Who the hell is Tessa Lawson?”

I glanced at Aponi.

Her face had gone still—too still.

Then she whispered, “She’s my handler.”

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