When he speaks, his voice deep, vibrant, and alive, I can’t hide the smile on my face.

“‘Bout fuckin’ time, Kitten.”

Chapter Seven

“Vin.”

“Where the hell have you been, huh?”

My smile drops into a scowl. “What do you mean ‘where have I been’? I’ve been out in the wild busting my butt to bring back help!”

“Took you long enough to come back.”

“At least I came back,” I snap hotly. “You’d be sitting in The Hive right now laughing it up with Marlow and pretending this place never existed.”

“Which is what you should be doing. Did you even go to Marlow? Who are these people you brought into my house?”

I stand up sharply. “Your house?! Have you gone native?”

I see the shadow of Vin shake his head in frustration. He gestures to one of the figures still hovering in the doorway. “Hit the rest of the lights, would you?”

The dining room lights snap on, making me blink rapidly, trying to adjust. The room is a mess, with tables knocked over, chairs shoved across the room, plastic plates scattered everywhere. But there’s no blood. Well, yeah, okay, there’s a little blood from where I broke someone’s face, but there’s no mortal wound amount of blood and that’s what matters. I don’t recognize the guy that Trent is holding onto, but Ryan has taken down one of the cannibals that came in with us. The person on the ground at my feet, however, is very familiar. So is the busted up shape of her face.

“Hey, Lexy,” I tell her wryly. “Long time no see.”

She presses the back of her hand to her bleeding nose. “Good to see you’re still a bitch.”

“Good to see you still can’t fight.”

I turn back to Vin, surprised to find him with short hair again. It had almost grown out the last time I saw him. He almost looked like a Lost Boy. Now he looks like a… well, a Colonist.

“What’s going on with you? What do you mean, ‘your house’?”

“I run this place.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

He grins. “Yes. What happened with Caroline kicked off a fight. By the end of that night everyone had heard that she was dead and I was as good as. Things were tense after that. Three days later someone snuck in. They tried to kill me.”

“Who?”

“The Leaders, who else?”

“No, who specifically tried to kill you?”

His eyes go cold, dark. “Breanne.”

I nod slowly. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“She knew better.”

“She should have, yeah.”

“All right, I answered you, now you answer me. These people aren’t Hive, so who are they? Pikes?”

“No. They’re cannibals.”

I’m surprised when he laughs long and hard. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I reply hesitantly.

“Wow, Kitten. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.”

“Did they hurt anyone?”

“No.”

“Did you hurt them?”

“Would it bother you if we did?”

Maybe. “No.”

“Hmm,” he hums, not believing me. “They’re fine. Caged, but fine. My guys took them down easily.”

“What guys? Since when is there anyone here willing to fight?”

“Since always. They were just looking for someone to follow. I found another Hive member after you left. Couple of Westies. They had just brought in those Elevens before you bailed. You were worried they were your boy…” His voice trails off as he looks over my head to Trent and Ryan behind me. His face lights up. “Ryan Hyperion? Are you kidding me? That’s your man, isn’t it?”

“Stop,” I mutter, knowing it’s useless.

He steps around me to go to Ryan and Trent. I’m surprised when he offers his hand to Ryan, then pulls him into a half embrace.

“Good to see you, man. I’ve watched you fight in the Arena. Your brother, too. That guy made me a lot of scratch. I’m sorry about what happened to him.”

Ryan nods, his expression guarded. “Thanks.”

“So you’re the guy Kitten is all hot and bothered over? Nice.”

I groan, letting my head fall back until I’m staring at the ceiling. “Why do you have to make everything sound dirty?”

“Speaking of,” he says, turning back to me. I meet his gaze as he looks me over slowly, then whistles softly. “You’re still a Benjamin, Kitten. I’m a little less impressed with Hyperion here. Or disappointed, depending.”

“Depending on what?”

His response is a sly grin.

I want to punch him, but what I feel the most, what knocks the angry hot wind out of my sails, is the fact that I also want to hug him. I hadn’t realized it until now, but I’ve missed him. He’s obnoxious, he’s frustrating, he’s rude, he’s cocky—but he’s Vin, and for some strange reason, I like him. Probably for the same reason I like Ryan and Trent. They’re honest. Annoying as Vin may be, he owns it. He is what he is and he’s not at all sorry.

“So you’re the King now, huh? The new Marlow?”

He shakes his head, his face falling serious. “No. I’m more like the president.”

“I don’t remember enough about life before the fall to know the difference.”

“A king is unchecked power,” Trent tells me. “He can pretty much do what he wants. A president answers to the people. Supposedly.”

“Why supposedly?”

“Depends on if he’s dirty.”

I look Vin up and down. “This one is dirty.”

He smiles at me as he closes the gap between us. “Not as much as I thought I’d be.”

“But a little more than they’d like you to be.”

“They who?”

“The people.”

“Nah, the people love me.”

“What about Marlow?” Ryan asks.

Vin doesn’t flinch. He also doesn’t turn to look at Ryan. He stares at me, his eyes intense and strange. He looks almost angry. “Marlow loves me too,” he purrs.

I narrow my eyes at him, not buying the everything-is-cookies-and-cream act. “Sounds like everybody loves you,” I reply quietly.

He nods in silent agreement.

“But will they still love when you won’t give them what they want?”

“And who am I denying in this scenario?”

“That’s kind of my point.”

“Ask what you’re asking.”

“You know what I’m asking. You know what I’m saying. These people want to be free. Marlow wants both them and the building. You can’t please everybody, so who will you make angry? Who isn’t going to love you in the morning, Vin?”

He leans in close, his breath hot on my face. He smells like candy—like sugar and sweetness, which is just about the weirdest thing ever, but that’s not what worries me. It’s his eyes and his words. They’re both hard and cold, like ice. “Same as always,” he whispers against my skin. “Whoever I screw.”

***

“Your pimp is going to screw us,” Trent tells me.

We’re standing in a small office tucked in the back of the building. Vin has taken it over, putting all of the wasted equipment in the corner—things like filing cabinets, telephones, computers, and inspirational posters telling us to hang in there and be determined to succeed. Thanks, random guy in a stiff-looking suit. I’ll be sure to keep in mind your advice the next time I’m cornered in the dark by flesh-devouring dead.

The cannibals have all been captured and put on lockdown somewhere in the building. I’m not sure what Vin has planned for them and I want to say I don’t care, but I do. I told the cannibals not to hurt any of the Colonists, and now that we’re on the flip side of that, my anxiety is still there. I guess I don’t want bloodshed of any kind, a fact that’s pretty surprising to me. Ask me a few months ago if I cared whose blood was on whose hands and I would have told you that I hope they all kill each other and leave me alone forever. But now here I stand in a building filled with cannibals, Colonists, Hive members, and Lost Boys, and suddenly I’ve lost my edge.

“Yeah, I know,” I mutter.

“Don’t call him her pimp,” Ryan snaps at Trent. “He’s a pimp, not her pimp.”