Apollo stared at my tear-stained face. He didn't answer my question. He just turned his broad back to me and looked at Cole. "Pack her things."
Two bodyguards stepped forward and began tearing through the meager belongings scattered around the room.
I scrambled off the sofa and lunged for a beat-up canvas duffel bag in the corner. I clutched it to my chest, burying my face in the cheap fabric. "I can do it! Please, don't break my stuff!"
I was shoved roughly toward the door. I stumbled up the concrete stairs, bursting out into the cold night air.
The street was lined with black SUVs. The neighbors were peeking through their blinds, terrified.
The door of the center SUV flew open. Jace scrambled out, his little legs hitting the pavement. He sprinted toward me and slammed into my knees, wrapping his arms around my legs.
I let out a soft gasp, stumbling backward, but I immediately dropped to my knees and hugged him tight. I buried my face in his hair, rocking him gently.
Apollo stood a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His eyes were fixed on where my hands touched Jace's back. He was waiting for the revulsion to hit him. He was waiting for the sickness.
It never came. Watching me hold the boy only deepened the unnatural calm settling into his bones.
Cole stepped between us, holding a thick stack of papers bound in black leather. A gold pen rested on top.
"Non-disclosure agreement," Apollo said, his voice cold again. "You sign this, you belong to The Ninth Circle. You breathe a word of what you see inside my walls, and you stop breathing."
I stared at the dense legal jargon, blinking rapidly. I looked up at Apollo, my eyes wide and clueless. "If... if I sign this, will the men in the suits stop coming for my money?"
Apollo let out a harsh, mocking breath. "You stay inside my fortress, and no one on this earth will ever touch you again."
Jace tugged on my sleeve. "Please stay, mint girl. Please."
I let my lower lip tremble. I reached out with a shaking hand and took the heavy gold pen.
I pressed the nib to the paper. I signed The Nobody in the exact same messy, slanted scrawl I had used at the clinic.
Apollo watched the ink dry. A dark satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. He nodded to Cole.
"Put her in the car with the boy," Apollo ordered. He turned and climbed into the lead command vehicle.
I was pushed into the backseat of the SUV. The doors locked with a heavy, metallic thud. I pulled Jace onto my lap. He rested his head against my chest and closed his eyes.
The convoy began to move.
I leaned my head back against the leather seat. I stroked Jace's hair with my right hand. With my left hand, hidden beneath the folds of my oversized shirt, I peeled a micro-tracker the size of a grain of rice off my thumb and pressed it deep into the seam of the leather seat.
In the vehicle ahead, Apollo stared out the window. "Run her again," he told Cole. "Deeper."
"We did, sir," Cole replied. "She's a ghost. A few loan sharks looking for her, but no family, no friends. She's a blank slate."
Apollo closed his eyes. He could still feel the phantom coolness of my skin against his palm.
The convoy left the city, driving deep into the wealthy, isolated stretches of Long Island. The trees grew thicker.
I looked out the tinted window. I noticed the way the branches were pruned-cleared to provide perfect lines of sight for sniper nests.
My heart beat a slow, steady rhythm, but I kept my eyes wide, my mouth slightly open in feigned awe.
Massive black iron gates loomed ahead, a terrifying Wyvern crest welded into the center. The gates groaned open.
The convoy rolled into The Aerie. The most heavily fortified private estate in America.
I clutched my cheap duffel bag tighter. The terrified girl vanished from my mind. The hunter had entered the cage.
