For the first time in over two years, Hazel wished she could climb Peter’s stairs.

Instead, the door to his place had not opened as she approached. No, the garage door had opened, and Peter stood just inside, staring at her with fury and longing and admiration and hatred.

A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed it down as she stepped across the threshold.

She didn’t know if she loved or despised the fact that he said nothing as he led her into the elevator, and lest he imagine anything like their last experience there, Hazel pressed her back against the side wall and stared him in the eye. She tried not to show the terror that had come over her. How did she think she was going to do anything to stop him?

Strangely, Peter said nothing to her either, just held her gaze all the way up. When they reached the top, he actually reached for her hand and pulled her behind him into his foyer. Hazel instinctively cringed away from him, and she found that her years-long connection with him could still squeeze guilt out of her for the reaction.

“I really didn’t want to do things this way, Hazel,” he leveled without looking at her. “The way I had planned it, almost no one would die.”

Hazel barely restrained a spiritless laugh. Almost no one. As if even one death at his hands was justifiable. Maybe it was partially her fault, because she had ignored her instincts for too long. She had explained away Peter’s issues and left him to follow his own ambitions without a hint of disapproval from her.

At this point, none of that mattered. “Pete, you said you stopped the other players from deploying the exploit,” she misdirected. “What are you going to do now?”

“Come here, Hazel,” Peter commanded, not paying attention to her words. He used their joined hands to pull her down onto the couch, and he pulled up the Rendering. If she had not been at the mercy of an insane person, it would have been beautiful. Like a starlit night in the country, blue dots and clusters punctuated the dark room. “You never did appreciate this as much as you should have,” he accused. “I know I’m destroying it, but it is actually so amazing.”

Saddened and a little awed, Hazel managed a genuine reaction. “It is amazing, Peter. I’ve always known that.”

He leaned back so he could see her expression. “You look like you mean it. I never knew you understood.”

Closing her eyes, Hazel fought back tears. She hated herself for feeling conflicted, for not despising Peter despite all that he had done – that he was willing to do. She felt the cold stab of her betrayal of Rel’s memory. Sadly, though, she also found herself regretful of the loss of everything she had believed Peter to be. “I always understood, Pete. What you did here, with the Bridge and the Wire, it’s like a scientific breakthrough mixed with a miracle and a work of art.” She opened her eyes to peer into his, and despite her best efforts, moisture sheened across her gaze. Peter reached his thumb to brush away a drop that had escaped onto her cheek.

“That makes it better,” he admitted, pulling her back against him. She tried to control herself, but the air in her lungs fought to rush out in a moan of misery. “And it will mean that once I deploy the failsafe, you can help me create the new system. I mean, you are largely the reason this one exists.”

So many emotions battled inside Hazel. Six years of dependence, of explanations and excuses, of willful ignorance – they were hard to leave behind. Every time he opened his mouth and spoke, his words wove a spell that she could almost believe. Except, the other words he had spoken screamed loudly over the top of the delusion, drowning out the power. It’s too late for Martins.

Peter still planned to deploy the failsafe.

With all his brilliant reasonings, he could almost obscure the nameless, faceless victims of the impending failsafe event.

Peter, though, could not obscure Rel. Even if she could lose sight of the masses, she could not forget what her erstwhile best friend had done to Rel.

“Come on,” Peter instructed, pulling Hazel to her feet. “All I have to do is type in this command, and it will be done. When we wake up in the morning, you and I will be alone together.”

+++++++++++++++

On the way to Peter Donovan’s apartment, Rel experimented with his Neurex. It was something to do to keep himself sane while he had to sit still.

The Neurex had proven much stranger than he had believed. With the Wire in place, Rel had always imagined both mechanisms as basically the same, just with overlapping and integral functions.

Turns out, that was kind of true, but not entirely.

Instead, now Rel could use his Neurex to nudge his own hormone levels. Don’t really want to mess with that one just now. When the Wire had severed from the Bridge, Rel had gained complete control of the Neurex rather than having it subject to the NCB.

He could also connect locally to almost any signal, like a handheld could. Except his Neurex somehow knew codes and deployed them based only on Rel’s intention, and with his not knowing anything about how it was happening.

As he proved to himself by driving the Queue car – with his mind.

If he hadn’t been terrified for Hazel and enraged at Peter Donovan, the experience might have exhilarated Rel.

The hulking hill finally rose before Rel, a strange and unnatural scar on the cityscape. Even with his concern about Hazel – even with all his training – Rel felt a sliver of fear jab through him before he buried it under his determination.

Most likely, Peter had some kind of alarm system that would go off if anyone approached, and Rel sent out a sensor using the short-wave signal from his Neurex. Right there, he realized, shocked and almost giddy with excitement when he processed it.

He couldn’t figure out how to disable the alarm, but he did find a signal that was similar enough to his own that he could alter his to match. Electronically, his Neurex would emit a signal very similar to the QLED lights that lit the treads of each stair. Rel had no idea what awaited him above, but anticipation stirred energy in his limbs, and he found himself at the top of the stairs in much less time than he had expected.

Utilizing all of his training, Rel forced a measured step, and he finished the flight by standing erect and drawing in a slow breath. On the other side of the door, he would most likely encounter Hazel, and he had to remember his training rather than give in to his impulses. Of course, Hazel’s safety was his highest priority. If she were not in immediate peril, he had to attend to the only slightly less important task of stopping the failsafe.

He sucked in a breath, instinctively reaching for the Wire to instruct him on passing through the lock. When he came up with a blank, his mind froze for a moment, until he carried his thoughts back to his early education. There may come a time when you are unable to access the Wire for one reason or other, when you are in a foreign country with spotty coverage. You will want to have some skills to use in case you can’t reach the ready answers.

Of course, he would have loved the option. Unfortunately, he didn’t carry around a lockpicking kit, so he lifted his handheld and typed a message to Vee, praying she noticed.

Linking you to Tomás.

A moment later, Rel had linked a screenshot of the front door handle to DeSoto, and with the lock specs and the triangulated position, Dragnet unlatched Peter Donovan’s front door. Apparently, there were still a lot of things one could accomplish without a Wire. Consequently, Rel began to think that he would follow Tomás DeSoto’s example and have the entire mechanism removed from his brain. If Hazel could do it, surely Rel could manage it, too.

Once he pushed the door open, Rel stopped instantly in his tracks, his breath stilled completely at the sight.

Under a room full of stars sat Hazel Hops, held tightly in the arms of Peter Donovan.

+++++++++++++++

“We think we have it, Dad,” Sophie declared. “This is the server holding the Wire of the North American satellite operator – the one Hazel couldn’t deploy. We are about five minutes from disconnecting it. Enzo?”

“Yes, about five minutes.”

“Do you have the contact info for the operator?”

“I have him linked in, Sophie,” her dad explained. “He is ready to rescind the command to alter the satellite orbit, as soon as his daughter is awake.”

“We’re on it,” Sophie promised, and Enzo smiled up at her.

“Almost done,” he agreed.

“I’m still twenty minutes out,” came Vee’s unexpected voice, and Sophie’s excitement subdued.

“Hazel has been there by herself for a while.” Sophie complained.

“But Rel was significantly closer, so he is likely already there.”

“I hope he’s a good field agent,” Sophie mumbled, managing a smile for Enzo as he made a thumbs up sign. “Enzo is done, Dad. We’ve found a couple of other things here we are going to look at, but the satellite should be good. Let us know when the girl is awake.”

“I got the message just before you told me,” he explained. “We managed all but the African satellite. And geosync will cover that until we knock out the failsafe, albeit a little slower than usual.”

“At least that’s good,” Sophie allowed. “Now we just have to get Hazel back.”

“We’ll get her, Sophie. You have my word.”

Sophie appreciated the sentiment, but until she held Hazel’s hand, Sophie would not believe it. If she knew one thing about Peter, he was really good at getting what he wanted.

+++++++++++++

For the first time since he had led Hazel into his home, Peter seemed distracted from her. Something on the Rendering had drawn his attention, and he cursed under his breath before linking to his friends. A chill ran up Hazel’s spine as he began to speak to the air.

“We’re up,” he instructed. “I know it’s two days early, but we have to accelerate the timeline. Ziyad, I sent you the code. Chad, you need to depopulate that signal at the CNB, and Leo – link to the data that you’re going to deploy. Wait for my command. She’s with me. I contained the damage, but not enough. I’ve got it set to deploy in twenty minutes. Make sure you’re ready.”

For several seconds, Hazel stood immobile in the middle of the room, lights flickering overhead. Someone would show up. Vee would show up, with a cadre of agents who would storm in and wrestle Peter to the ground. As the minutes ticked on, though, no one showed, and Hazel began to forage in her mind for a plan.

Help did arrive though, but it almost destroyed Hazel. She first saw the flicker of movement in the shadow by the front door, and she barely restrained a cry – of joy, of terror, of utter shock.

Peering at her out of the darkness, Rel’s brown-green eyes wore near panic as he registered her presence in the room.

He was alive!

Peter had unwrapped his arms from around her and now stood in the middle of the Rendering, commenting to one of his accomplices about the logistics of their plan, and Rel flashed his eyes back and forth from Hazel to Peter. A new and sudden terror grasped at Hazel.

Even more than losing, even more than having his plans interrupted, Peter Donovan hated to have his illusion shattered. If Rel Martins showed his face in that room, in front of Hazel – in Peter Donovan’s own home – Peter’s lie about killing Rel would be exposed. Peter would use the opportunity to dispatch the agent without consequence. Who could have blamed Peter for reacting with deadly violence when a giant of a man appeared suddenly in his home?

Hazel might have mistrusted herself – should have mistrusted herself – that Peter would have struck out at Rel Martins without a justifiable cause. No, Peter always needed a secondary motive besides his selfish one. One he could sell to himself and anyone else he felt the need to persuade.

If Rel Martins showed up uninvited in Peter’s house, there would be no other need for justification.

Peter began to turn toward the door, and Hazel felt herself step in front of him, her breath shallow and her legs shaking. Apparently, she had approximately fifteen minutes before the failsafe deployed, and the only way she could do anything about it was to get to the computer in the bedroom. If she could pull up the code, she might be able to muss it up somehow. All Rel could do was pummel Peter to a pulp, but while that might buy Hazel some freedom, it would not stop the failsafe, and Rel would probably die.

Stepping between Peter and the door, she let all of her guilt leak into her expression. “I’m sorry, Peter…”

As Peter stared at her, confused, she gripped his arm and spun him as she dashed past him and sprinted toward his room. He was after her in a flash.

She rushed past the wall of windows and had just reached the edge of the doorway when Peter crashed into her. All of his weight pressed against her, and he spun her to look at him, pinning her to the wall with a forearm to her chest. With everything in her, she resisted glancing at Rel where he stood – no doubt dumbfounded – in the middle of the room. If she did not move immediately, he would rush to rescue her.

“What are you doing, Hazel?” Peter warned, lowering his arm and vicing both of her wrists in his hands.

Rather than answering, Hazel forced herself to meet his eyes, pouring as much attention into them as she could manage. She had no idea if the ploy would work – she wasn’t the type who had ever tried to entice a man. Yet, against everything in her, she gazed at Peter with all the longing she could manufacture, aided by the regret she truly felt.

Lifting her face to him, lips parted, she raised on her toes and aimed for his mouth. For only a moment, he paused before a satisfied expression lifted the corner of his mouth, and he pressed his entire weight against her as he lowered his face to hers. Her eyes open, she peered across the space at Rel, willing him to understand what she was doing. That she was saving him.

Desperate, she dragged Peter into the bedroom.

With her foot, she kicked the door closed, and Peter spun her to press against it as his mouth devoured hers. Something about the pursuit and subsequent submission had inflamed Peter, no doubt spurred on by the elation of enacting his Bridge schemes, and he accosted her with intense vigor. If she could not figure out a way to interrupt him, he might not stop. Her mind lost focus as she considered why a man like Peter, who would destroy so many lives, would even care to gain her consent. Somehow, though, she knew he would. He always needed justification, and if she communicated clearly enough, he would stop.

“Tell me what you’re trying to do Hazel,” Peter murmured, and she forced herself not to react.

“I’m doing what I should have done a long time ago,” she whispered against his mouth. At her words, Peter laughed, compelling her backward and covering the distance to the bed.

Terrified, Hazel pressed down her heels, and when Peter tried to drag her with him, she managed to stumble away, back toward the door. Peter, though, recovered instantly, his mind and body stretched taut in response to Hazel. She knew she was dancing with the devil, but she saw no other option if she were to keep Peter distracted from Rel.

Even as she felt the wall behind her, she came to herself with Peter’s mouth on her neck, his hands reaching to the hem of her sweatshirt and tugging upward with a sudden motion. To her shock, he managed to yank it off of her, leaving her in her tight dancer’s tank and leggings. He had likely not known she wore a second layer, but his expression as he stood, panting with exertion, told that he wasn’t displeased. A shiver thrilled up Hazel’s spine at the hunger in his eyes, but she suppressed it.

“Peter…”

He cleared the distance between them in an instant, threading his arm around her waist and vising her to him with an iron grip. “Don’t tell me to stop,” he growled, attacking the tender skin under her chin.

“No, Peter,” she complained, which only brought a quick motion from him, his arms lifting her fully off the ground as he spun her to the bed.

“No, Peter! Stop!” she yelled as he dropped her onto the duvet, and when he climbed onto the bed, she scurried backwards. When he managed to overtake her and pinned her to the bed with the weight of his body, she found her heart thudding inside her chest. “I don’t know…” her voice gasped. “I’m not -” She couldn’t finish; she didn’t know what to say. The part of her that had lived with and cared about Peter recognized the unfairness of her hot and cold reactions to him, but strategically, she had long ago stopped considering Peter’s attention as anything genuine. Before she knew the truth about Peter, she had indulged him out of the largely feminine error of trying to communicate her reluctance without hurting his feelings.

Now that she realized Peter’s real issues, she recognized that her instinct toward reluctance had served her well, and in the future, she would pay more attention to her wishes and thoughts. Even more important, she would not let herself feel bad about much of anything she did to Peter in order to protect Rel or stop the collapse of the Bridge.

Being Peter, though, he proved her own thoughts liars almost as soon as she formed them. Something in her tone must have communicated her fear, and Peter groaned as he rolled to his side, clutching her to him and easing his intensity while he worked to calm his breath. That one act of humanity tore at Hazel more than all of her rage or fury or sense of justice. Even as he maneuvered to enact chaos and destruction around the world, he refused to force himself on Hazel.

“Fine, Hazel,” he agreed, his tone thready. “I was never going to force you, even if you led me on in every way imaginable.” To Hazel’s horror, he pulled himself to a seated position and then to a stand, leaning forward and brushing his hand under the green beam that lit up his computer screen. “I’ve let you distract me long enough.”

It was too much. When he stepped back, she collapsed to the floor in tears.

++++++++++++

Rel couldn’t move. His mind wouldn’t work, wouldn’t process the possible implications of what he had just seen. Not to mention the visceral reaction of his body at the sight of Hazel, wrapped in the arms of another man, kissing that man.

Had Peter Donovan just forced himself onto Hazel? As much as Rel wanted to believe it, he had watched as Hazel yanked Peter through the door to the other room. The bedroom?

Despite all his professionalism and training, Rel wanted to be sick.

Did he go to the room, try to interrupt whatever he would find? Was that what Hazel wanted? The look she had thrown across the room at him. Was it…desperation?

Since he couldn’t decide, he pulled up the handheld and reached out to Vee.

How far away are you? I think I need help.

Are you safe? came the reply. I’m about four minutes out.

For the moment, but I might be about to make a really big mistake.

It can’t wait? Vee worried.

Rel closed his eyes, pressing his hand to his forehead. I don’t think so. Just, focus on the failsafe once you get here. I heard Donovan say something about twenty minutes, and it’s been ten already.

With rising anxiety, Rel glided toward the door through which Hazel had disappeared a moment before. He would rather be wrong and be disappointed – or even jolted – than leave Hazel to a horrible fate.

++++++++++++

Of course, Peter had no patience with Hazel’s emotion. When she collapsed to the ground, he just ignored her, pulling up a representation of the Rendering.

“You are so ridiculous, Hazel,” he spat. “Ridiculous. I should never have let you distract me.”

“But Peter,” Hazel managed, her tone scratchy with tears, “I just don’t understand you. How can you care about me and do this awful thing you’re doing?” The heat that had manifested between them began slowly to dissipate, and Hazel was left cooling in a heap on the floor.

Peter didn’t look at her. He just cast his eyes at the ceiling and shook his head. “I told you, you can’t understand, Hazel. I’m doing a good thing. I’m a good person. I know you think this is awful, but when you see how this fixes so many things, you of all people will appreciate what I’ve done.”

“And the people you hurt in the process?”

“Basically no one…not important,” he murmured, his focus fully on the screen before him. She watched, helpless to intervene, as he finished typing in a string of code and hit enter.

“Basically -” she scoffed. Did he think that even one innocent person severely damage was an acceptable loss? “Peter,” she leveled, her voice stronger as she rose to her feet and stepped toward him. “Undo it. Stop the failsafe.”

At her words, he spun back to her, his task done, and she paused. It was there again – the extreme attention, the fact that he actually noticed her. Everything about the scrutiny disarmed her, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “I saw what you did,” he insisted. “You were honestly brilliant. I can’t believe you stole my Trifecta ID – I even told Ziyad you weren’t smart enough to do it. I can’t believe you unwound my glitch. I can’t believe you managed that exploit.”

“Most of that wasn’t me. I mean, I found the glitch. I helped put two and two together about the comas. I watched Piroulette dissolve into thin air.” Her tone was haunted. Though she had thought to approach him, the memory of the dissolution of Pirouette sent Hazel back a step when he moved toward her. She couldn’t quite restrain her revulsion at the thought of what had happened – and toward the man who had caused it.

“All technical insignificance, Hazel. Why did I fix the Platform, the Pins, create the Bridge and the Wires? Was it my technical genius? There are probably a hundred men alive – including some of the techs who work for Mr. DeSoto – who are as competent as I am. Very few people, though, have vision. It’s what you have. I kept you by me, I never noticed, but I think I always knew. I don’t think you could have stayed with me for so long if you didn’t have it, too.”

As he spoke, he eased toward her again, and only when she felt the bed bump the back of her calves did she realize she had moved. Peter reached for her, and Hazel finally felt the bond break. Whatever had held her to him, whatever hope she had retained for him, the thought of her complicity wrenched her from ambivalence.

She spun quickly, scrambling across the bed to hide behind one of the statuesque vases by the headboard. Surprised, he advanced after her, skirted the furniture until he stood only a few inches in front of the vase.

“This is good, Hazel. Don’t you see it? I had thought that I wouldn’t need you after the Deconstruction, and I was right. But I want you. Everything you did, the way you can understand things; I want you with me. And on the other side of this, you and I can continue just like we have been. In a couple of minutes, this will be over. Everyone will be like you.”

“Except the people who die,” Hazel accused.

In typical Peter fashion, he shrugged with unconcerned resignation.

The sentiment was all Hazel needed to push her over the edge. Without preamble, she shoved against the huge porcelain urn with all her might, upsetting it onto Peter before he could react. It knocked him to the ground, and a portion of it pinned him down, lying across his chest and leg. For a moment, Hazel paused, concerned by what had sounded like Peter’s skull striking the bedframe, but when she saw his eyes open and blinking, she continued past him.

On her way out of the room, the computer caught her eye, and she pulled up her exit. She peered back at Peter who had begun to groan, and though every impulse in her compelled her to get out as fast as possible, she saw an opportunity that she didn’t think she could pass up.

Open on the screen stood the representation of the Rendering, and though Hazel had never manipulated it herself, she had watched Pete do it a thousand times. There was also enough similarity to Mr. DeSoto’s Rendering that she wondered if she could use code to read the lines of connection. Before she had interrupted Peter, he had spoken to her of the failsafe. Opening a prompt, she began to scan the code as she moved around the screen. She manipulated the screen for a few minutes before she began to recognize some code. Though with different modifiers, she recognized several of the commands she had seen in the coma code. Her heart sped as she searched for the root access that would let her disrupt it.

++++++++++++++

Rel stood poised halfway down the hall when a crash resounded from the nearby room. With renewed energy, he lurched down the remainder of the hallway in two strides. Desperate, he stared with extreme frustration at the digital panel beside the door.

No knob?

To his relief, the entry behind him opened, and Vee Garrison stepped into the apartment, accompanied by a man Rel had never seen. Rel stood in a dark corridor, but he couldn’t risk calling out, so he rushed to the open space and waved his arms for her to see.

“Vee!” he hissed, praying his tone would communicate his urgency. He lit up the handheld and held it over his hand to signal that the room was safe. A moment later, she and the stranger stood a few feet away from Rel.

Using his handheld, Rel typed out his message and showed it to the pair.

I need to get in this room. Hazel is inside. No doorknob.

Vee looked over at her companion, and the man opened up a case that Rel had not noticed, removing a small electronic device. With a rapid pass over the general vicinity where Rel would expect a lock, the door popped ajar, and Rel motioned the pair back.

With a quick squeeze to Rel’s hand, Vee followed the other man – apparently a tech – back to the center of the room. A few seconds later, a spattering of blue dots of varying sizes lit up the room in an ethereal glow. Ignoring the spectacle, Rel reached for the door, pulling it open. He prayed he would not regret what he saw on the other side.

Instead of regret, the vision inside sent a shot of warmth through Rel’s body. Relief that Hazel had not given in to Peter – how could Rel have imagined it? Pleasure at seeing the source of the crash – a heavy vase toppled onto the prone form of Peter Donovan. And excitement that Hazel seemed still determined to interfere with Peter’s plans.

She stood, clad in tight black from head to foot, in front of a huge traditional computer screen. On the dresser in front of her, a green keyboard lit up the surface, and she typed away at a simulation of a Rendering. He started to speak, but a motion drew his attention from Hazel.

From beside the bed, the vase had rolled off of Peter, and the man had flipped over onto all fours. He stood poised to spring at Hazel, and fury stirred in Rel’s chest as he processed the intention of the Architect of the Bridge.

Peter leapt toward Hazel, and his fingers brushed the back of her shirt. With a scream, she spun away from the screen, but Rel had moved the instant Peter had. Before Peter could smash into Hazel, Rel had plummeted into the slightly smaller man from the side, sending them both on an uncontrolled trajectory toward the adjacent wall.

After a grunt of surprise, Peter rolled quickly to his feet, low and ready for battle.

“Hazel,” he advised, “move away from the computer.”

“I have this, Hazel,” Rel countered, squaring off again as Peter retreated. “Do whatever you need to do.”

Stealing herself, Hazel turned back to the keyboard, forcing her mind to focus. She didn’t actually know Rel’s fighting capability, but she had to believe it was better than hers, and she was so close. If she could just find the exact code and send an interrupt, the failsafe would stop in its tracks.

Rel stood facing Peter, his back creating a barrier to protect Hazel while she worked.

“Dammit, Hazel!” Peter complained. “You’re delaying the inevitable. I can just go in the other room.”

Not happening, Hazel determined, and she tapped away at the keys as if he hadn’t spoken.

In a flash, Peter lurched forward, but it had been a feint. As soon as Rel committed direction, Peter swerved out of Rel’s way, shoving the larger man to the floor with incredible force. The impact stunned Rel, and for several seconds, his head swam. Peter used the opportunity to rush Hazel, and she screamed as, lowering his shoulder, he hoisted her onto the bed. When she hit, Peter tried to climb after her.

“Hell, no,” Hazel heard the grumble from behind Peter, and the animalistic ferocity of Rel’s voice shocked her almost to immobility. How could her gentle Rel sound like that? A moment later, Rel had wrapped Peter up in both arms, dragging him backwards as Hazel, shaking herself to action, scurried back to the desk. Peter managed to twist away and face Rel again, but Rel had retaken his defensive position covering Hazel.

“There was something about you the first time I saw you,” Peter leveled at the larger man. “You did this to her. You messed with her head.”

“I suggest you stop now, Donovan.” Rel didn’t acknowledge the words. Hazel was once again struck by the force behind Rel’s voice, as if he were a mage in her game using words of power, or a berserker embarking on a rampage. “Your plan has failed, and there is a team of agents and techs pulling down your failsafe as we speak.”

Instead of replying to Rel, Peter lunged at the giant who, unwilling to leave Hazel exposed, absorbed the blow straight on. He rocked back a step but managed to grip Peter tightly, initiating a grappling for position.

“Ziyad is going to make it happen whatever you do here, Hazel,” Peter grunted, obviously struggling to stay in the fight with Rel. “It’s not too late.”

“You’re lying,” Hazel replied, not taking her eyes off the screen. “They’re just the setup, and you had to unleash your code for deployment. I heard you say it.” Her voice dropped to a thoughtful murmur. “Now I just have to stop that countdown.”

Rel finally managed a dominant stance, and a moment later, he had thrown Peter away from Hazel and back onto the porcelain vase, which lost a few more shards onto the floor. Twisting, Peter flung himself to a standing position. Rather than aim his stance back at Rel, Peter scampered over the bed to the other side of the room, forcing Rel to circle behind Hazel, his back still to her.

With a quick dash, Peter stood behind the vase on the other side of the room.

“Fight me, Peter,” Rel taunted, hoping to lure Peter into the open and end the danger to Hazel. “Everyone knows that you’ve trained. It’s not like it’s beyond your ability.”

Peter offered no response, just reached his arm toward the wall while keeping an eye on his opponent.

“I found the timer,” Hazel offered quietly. “And I think I have an interrupt that will work.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Rel murmured in response, “but as soon as you have done what you need to, get out of here.”

Blowing out a breath, she tabbed to the proper location, typing her closest approximation to an interrupt command. She had not coded enough to feel any certainty, and if Peter had not left the Rendering open to the basic spot she had needed she would never have known where to find it. As it stood, though, she believed that her chances were good as she typed in the code for the interrupt. She raised her finger to hit the enter key, and Peter’s words stopped her in her tracks.

“Hit that, and I Jolt him.”

She slowly lifted her hand away from the keyboard, turning to take in exactly what she had feared at the words. Though Rel had not stepped out of the way, he had backed toward her and away from the outstretched stave in Peter’s hand.

“It’s okay, Peter,” she coaxed. “I didn’t do it.” She moved to stand beside Rel.

“Get back, Hazel,” Rel insisted, his tone more pained than powerful when he spoke to her. “I have this.”

“You’re Wired. The worst that can happen to me is a buzzing headache.”

“There’s something off on my Wire. I’m not sure it will do anything to me. It won’t hurt you if he Jolts you,” Rel countered. “But he can do a lot worse without even needing the stave. You know he can.”

Without responding, she deftly sidestepped the arm Rel reached to restrain her.

“I’m here,” she appeased. “I had to hit enter to finish the command, and I didn’t. Now I’m coming over to you.” She couldn’t bring herself to hit him hard enough to injure him, but maybe she could knock the stave away.

Approaching as if in submission, Hazel waited until she stood within an arm’s length. The kick she smashed into the side of Pete’s right knee sent him to the ground with a cry of pain, and Hazel’s adrenaline ramped up her intensity as she saw him immobilized for a moment. Having fought him before, she knew better than to wait for him to recover.

As Peter began to rise, Hazel threw another kick, hitting him squarely on the injured rib. Despite the justice of her cause, she cringed at the sense of her betrayal. A moment later, though, she lost the sense, because Peter rolled away from her and stood up to his feet.

The look in Peter’s eyes erupted chills on her skin, the hungry pleasure that emanated from him. The smile that split his face nearly stole Hazel’s resolve.

“Dammit, Hazel! Get behind me!” Rel commanded, and Hazel paused for a moment, unsure if she held the courage to fight Peter anymore.

When he lunged past her, though, stave outstretch, she didn’t think at all. She threw her foot out with the hardest force she could manage, and Peter’s aim flew far to his right. Rel reacted instantly, diving to follow Pete’s direction until the larger man perched directly over the smaller, Pete’s arm in Rel’s vice grip. Rel began a violent smashing of the stave against the floor until the mechanism flew across the room toward the bedroom door.

Hazel climbed over the bed to the computer as Rel and Peter began a full-on battle, punches and knees and holds exchanging and reversing beyond her ability to comprehend. In an instant, she depressed the enter key and deployed her interrupt. The action took less than thirty seconds, and she scurried past the scuffling pair in an attempt to retrieve the stave. Pressing herself against the wall between the bedroom and bath, she made the circuit toward where the device had landed. When Peter grasped for her ankle as she passed, Rel brought his elbow down into a hard block on the offending forearm.

Suddenly, Hazel held the stave.

Problem was, she didn’t know if she could make herself use it.

Hazel knew what would happen to Peter if she Jolted him, and unlike Peter, Hazel could not easily sentence a man to death or permanent debility.

When Peter flipped on top of Rel, though, Hazel found herself completely frozen, unable to think or breathe or move. The cramped space between the dresser, the bed, and the entryway put the larger man at a disadvantage, and Rel had lost his superior footing while trying to keep the scrapping Peter pinned. Where Rel had merely intended to restrain Peter, however, Peter bore murder in his expression. Even from her position pressed against the entrance wall, Hazel recognized the rage.

As soon as Peter lowered his forearm onto Rel’s neck, ducking as close as possible to avoid Rel’s desperate grasping, Hazel found herself reaching toward the pair, the stave extending from her hand. Time stretched, and she dragged each foot forward until she stood looking down at Peter. Even though she knew what she would do, her chest constricted with the pain of the choice.

The only way she finally made the connection was peering at Rel’s face, his color slowly fading as Peter choked the life out of him.

A moment later, Peter lay twitching on the floor, and Rel clasped at his throat with gasping breaths.

When her legs gave way, Hazel went to her knees before both men. She didn’t remember scooting forward and tugging Peter’s head onto her lap. The tears poured from her eyes and splashed down onto him as she held him.

To his credit, Rel rose to his knees and moved in behind her, stiffly wrapping his arms around hers. For several minutes, they just sat there, Hazel holding Peter and Rel holding her. Finally, she let go of Peter, lowering him to the floor, and she climbed fully onto Rel’s lap. She buried her face in his shirt and cried until her tears would no longer fall.