Chapter Twenty-Two

Someone caressed her cheek. Early morning light glowed softly behind her shut eyelids, but she wasn't ready to open them yet. No, she was enjoying the gentle fingers stroking her hair. The warmth around her wanted to keep her asleep forever. The person lovingly stroking her face trailed their fingers to her throat. It tickled. Her brow twitched and smile toyed at the corners of her mouth.

"Connor, stop."

"Who's Connor?" The voice was not Connor's. Wren's eyes flashed open and Jonah Cage sneered down at her. His hands gripped her throat. "I knew you were sleeping around on me, whore."

Wren gasped and clutched at her neck.

"Hey, kid, wake up. You're okay."

Hank?

Wren forced her eyes open for real this time. She gasped and tugged the neckline of her hospital gown down. Looking around frantically, Wren took a moment to discern where she was. A hospital room. Someone held out a cup of water.

"Drink this. Doc said you'd be thirsty when you woke up."

Wren extended shaky hands and accepted the cup, her eyes flicking to the speaker. Hank smiled kindly at her. Wren sipped from the cup, then downed it in a few gulps. She set the cup on the bedside tray when she finished. Water dribbled down her chin. She smiled back, grateful to him for sitting by her side. But part of her was disappointed it was not Connor. Then she remembered: Connor didn't remember her.

An ache welled in Wren's chest until it surged and pricked her eyes with tears. "Connor?"

Hank patted Wren's knee. "He's alright, kid. Kamski's checking him out now."

"Will Kamski be able to restore Connor's memories?" Wren's voice broke.

A frown shadowed Hank's face. "You're a little behind the times. Connor restored his own memory at the estate. He's the one who found you and got you outta there."

Wren released a breath and the tears welling in her eyes splashed down her cheeks. She wiped them away impatiently. "How'd he do that?"

"You'd have to ask him."

"You haven't talked to him?"

"I have some, but… He's been a bit haywire lately."

"How long have I been out?"

"Little over three days," Hank leaned back in his chair and smoothed out the creases of his pants. "They had to pump your stomach and they've been letting you sleep the worst of it off. Red Ice overdoses are pretty intense, and since you're a former addict, they wanted to take extra precautions."

Wren averted her gaze. "I don't really remember my Red Ice days, though. Do I really count as a former addict then?"

Hank shrugged. "Your body might remember. It's probably best that you don't remember anyway."

Her brow furrowing, Wren returned her gaze to meet Hank's. "What's Connor getting checked if he already restored his memories?"

"Well, he wanted to know how he was able to restore it, and he says that he wanted to test out a theory based off of something Brewer said. Oh, and he needed to get patched up."

"Patched up? Was he hurt?"

Hank snorted. "Yeah, he got shot, like, three fuckin' times."

"What?" Wren tried to get up, but Hank was faster than her in her groggy state.

"Where the hell do you think you're going? You need to rest. Connor'd give birth to a small farm animal if he found out I let you get up."

Wren scowled. "You can't expect me to sit here when Connor's hurt—"

"He's not hurt, kid. He's fine. He's mainly just worried about you. I think he blames himself for what happened. He won't really talk about it, though."

Wren looked at her hands as she remembered the feeling of Connor's strong hands pinning her to the table. What haunted her the most was the vacancy in his eyes as he looked at her. With a shiver, Wren looked back up at Hank. "I don't blame him for it."

"I know you don't. But you know Connor. You'll have to reassure him. I've tried my best, but the kid's stubborn."

Wren offered him a small smile. "Wonder where he gets that from?"

"That asshole was stubborn long before he lived with me," Hank argued, but his eyes twinkled. "Speaking of that stubborn asshole, I promised him I'd call him as soon as you were awake."

While Hank stepped out to talk to Connor, Wren looked at her artificial fingernails. They were always perfectly trimmed, in perfect condition. Still, she liked to pick at them.

{"Poetic for you to die this way, don't you think?" Axel leaned closer to Wren, but her eyes were still on Connor, who gazed at her blankly. It hurt so much to see him look at her without nothing. She would've rather him look at her with anger or hatred. Nothing, numbness, indifference—that was so much worse.}

"Poetic for you to die this way, don't you think?"

"Poetic for you to die this way, don't you think?"

Poetic… Poetic…

Why had Axel thought it would be poetic for Wren to die that way? A Red Ice drug overdose? Why would that be poetic?

Hank stepped back inside, interrupting Wren's thoughts. "He's on his way."

"Why wasn't he here earlier?" Wren blurted.

Hank lifted a brow. "What, I'm not good enough for ya?"

Wren grinned sheepishly. "Of course you are—"

"I'm messing with ya. You know why he wasn't here. He's probably ashamed."

Wren nodded. "How's everyone else?"

"Gavin got scraped up pretty bad in Brewer's arrest, but he's okay. Everyone's okay, actually. Some of us are bruised, but thank God for Kevlar."

"Yeah." Wren rubbed her arms. "So, what about the case?"

"We've got enough on Typhon to send a lot of those fuckers to prison. Axel definitely won't be gettin' out anytime soon. He's still at the DPD, though. We're not done interrogating him."

"What about the serial killer?"

Hank shrugged. "Hasn't done anything in three weeks."

"Really?"

"Yep. We're at a dead end. More so than we were before."

"Maybe they're on vacation or something."

"I don't know. I've got a feeling something terrible's coming."

"Me too," Wren muttered. "How've you been, Hank?"

"Okay. I got so used to Connor being around that when he wasn't, the house felt much emptier. But Tina had me over for dinner a lot. Markus and North came over a lot, too. Josh brought me some books. He told me Connor said that I'm a fan of paper books. It was easier to cope with people around."

A smile pulled at Wren's lips. "I'm glad everyone stepped in to take care of you. We were worried."

"Not as worried as we were about the two of you," Hank dragged a hand over his face.

Wren reached toward him. Taking the hint, Hank grabbed her hand gently. He squeezed it before letting go.

"As soon as Connor gets here, I'll go grab you something to eat. The food they feed you here is dusty-looking."

Wren snorted. "That's much appreciated." She leaned back. "I might take a nap, if that's okay."

"What, three days wasn't enough for ya?"

Wren glowered at Hank, who smirked.

"Go ahead. Connor's comin' all the way from Belle Isle. You've got some time."

"Thank you."

"Sure thing."

Wren closed her eyes and settled against the pillows, but a deep sleep never came. Her busy mind kept mulling over Axel's words, and who failed to get the information to the DPD earlier in their mission. Was it Jamie? Or was it Prometheus? Was it both? Either way, it resulted in a mass shooting, one that Wren couldn't help but feel partially responsible for. Her mind returned to Axel's words to her. What had he meant by "poetic?" Her Red Ice past was not known to many, and it was difficult to discover anyway. How would Axel even know about her Red Ice past?

A pat on her hand jerked her from her drowsy contemplation. Wren opened her eyes and glanced at Hank's kindly-lined face. "He's on his way up. Any food requests?"

"I haven't had fries in a while."

Hank grinned. "I got ya."

With a final squeeze of Wren's hand, Hank got up and shuffled out of the room. Wren pushed herself up and waited for Connor to arrive. Wren was not normally nervous to see Connor, but this time she was. Not because she was scared of him or anything, but because she didn't know how to convince him that he wasn't a monster, that this wasn't his fault, that she needed him to stay by her side and not blame himself. But she was also hurt that he prioritized his shame above her. The last time she consciously saw him, he held her down without recognizing her.

The more Wren thought about it, the more it burned her. It wasn't Connor's fault. She wasn't angry with him for what Axel did, or that Connor forgot her. No, she was angry because he was too ashamed to face her. Did he really think she would hate him or hold it against him?

When Connor arrived, he stood by the door. His posture was stiff and his LED swirled yellow. An angry itch flared underneath Wren's skin.

"Don't. Don't do that," Wren wanted to sound hard, but her voice came out as a choked plead. Tears pricked her eyes. "Don't blame yourself."

Connor's face crumpled. "How can I not? Wren, I held you down—"

"Because they reset you! You didn't remember me. You were under their control."

Connor shook his head. "I was and I wasn't. It wasn't the same as before I deviated—"

"Connor, listen to me. That wasn't your fault. You were obeying the person who reset you because you didn't know anything else. I don't blame you." Please understand. How could she make him understand?

Connor tucked his chin toward his chest and avoided Wren's eyes. "Wren, you don't understand. I could see the look on your face and somehow I knew what I was doing was wrong but I still did it."

Wren wanted to reach for him, but the way Connor kept himself at a distance stopped her. "I know there's nothing I can really say to convince you that this wasn't your fault. I know you, Connor. I know how much you internalize guilt and shame and you hold it inside because you never want to let yourself make mistakes—"

"This was a huge mistake," Connor's eyes snapped to Wren's. Tears shimmered in his eyes. "Wren, I could've been the reason you died!"

Wren's eyes felt hot and gummy. Her throat tightened, but she swallowed and held back her tears. "Goddammit, Connor! Don't you see that I need you? I'm not mad at you for what happened. I'm mad that you're fucking pushing me away. The whole time that was happening, I wasn't scared for me. I wasn't upset with you. Not even a little bit. I was so terrified of losing you. You know who I blame? Axel Brewer. Don't let him win."

Connor's lips parted and his posture loosened. He strode toward her with careful steps, as if he feared hurting her. He sat on the edge of the bed, and Wren threw her arms around him. She clung to him as if he might disappear. Her body trembled with soft sobs. Slowly, Connor's arms wrapped around her. He buried his face in the crook of Wren's neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Connor whimpered. Wren felt the hot wetness of his tears on her skin. She held him closer.

"It's okay, it's okay…" Wren cradled the back of his head. "I love you."

Connor lifted his head. His hands cupped the sides of Wren's face. "I love you so much."

Wren smiled and pulled him back into a hug. They held each other until both of their tears subsided. Wren cried until all the terror she felt at Axel's estate, all the disgust, all the sorrow washed down her cheeks and stained Connor's blazer. She still held him, even after she stopped crying. Her throat throbbed and her eyes felt sore, but it was a good ache. Connor stroked her hair, nearly lulling Wren to sleep.

"How'd you remember me?" Wren queried, resting her chin on Connor's shoulder.

Connor shifted so that he could look Wren in the face. "Kamski said it's hard to reset a deviant because they have emotional memory. There were things that triggered my memories. I remembered you because you're not just in my processor. You're part of me, and they can't take that away from us."

A smile twitched at the corners of Wren's mouth. She ran her fingers through Connor's hair. His eyes fluttered shut at her touch. "I love you."

Connor opened his eyes. His mouth curved upward. "I love you, too."

"What else did you talk about with Kamski?"

"I wanted to check if there's a way to see what happened to my memories, but we shouldn't talk about that here."

Wren nodded. Of course. Prometheus was always listening. Always listening through her. Poetic… A chill rippled down Wren's spine. She had a guess as to why Axel thought overdosing her with Red Ice was poetic. If she was right, then that meant she was in deep shit. Deeper than usual.

A knock on the door announced Hank's return. "Brought you some fries, as requested." He handed the paper bag of greasy food over to Wren, who grinned while Connor let out a soft, exasperated sigh.

"Brewer's still not talking," Hank said as he sat down. "But since the killer isn't associated with Typhon anyway, it's not that big of an issue."

"Actually, I'd like to talk to Brewer, but the team needs to meet up first," Wren said before plopping a fry into her mouth.

Connor scrunched his brow, but didn't ask.

"Yeah, but first, you've got some very anxious people waiting to see you." Hank gestured toward the door and Tina burst inside the hospital room, nearly knocking Connor over as she threw her arms around Wren.

"Oh my God, I'm so glad you're okay!"

Wren hugged her friend, grinning. "Careful, you're crushing my fries!"

"Fuck your fries!" Tina withdrew, grinning.

"How come you end up in the hospital so much?" North said from the end of the bed, her arms crossed. Wren held out her arms. North rolled her eyes, but stepped around the bed and fell into Wren's hug.

"Yeah, it can't be healthy," said Chris, entering with a bouquet of flowers.

"What do you mean? I'm in a hospital. Can't get healthier than that, right?"

"I'm pretty sure the point is to be healthy enough to stay out of the hospital," said Markus, patting Connor's shoulder. North sat in the chair next to Hank.

"Fuck, I've missed you," Tina said, peering into Wren's fast food bag. "Can I have one?"

"Knock yourself out."

"So, how was undercover life?" North asked.

Wren and Connor exchanged a grimace.

"That bad, huh?" Chris leaned against the wall beside Hank's chair.

"I forgot how much I hated it," Wren wrinkled her nose. "We need to meet at the Void. You guys have time?"

"I have to get back to the station, but one of you can catch Gavin and me up," said Chris.

"Yeah, where is that asshole?" Wren frowned.

"At the station," Chris replied. "We had to make it seem like we're still working on the serial killer case, even if there's nothing to go on anymore and I feel like a conspiracy theorist now."

Tina's shoulders slumped. "I'm almost to the point where I want some other team to take it over, as much as that would suck."

"Alright, are we busting me out of here?" Wren asked, shifting to swing her legs over the sides of the bed.

"I think you can just leave," said Tina.

"It's a hospital, not a prison," North replied.

"I'll make sure she's cleared," said Connor, shaking his head. He left while Wren turned to Tina and North.

"I missed you guys. A lot."

"We missed you too," Tina beamed. She hugged Wren again. North's lips twitched. One arm around Tina, Wren reached out for North, who squeezed Wren's hand.

"We'll meet you there," said Markus. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks," Wren smiled at him as North stood to leave.

"Keep us up to date," Chris said, hugging Wren goodbye.

"Yeah. Thank you for the flowers."

"Sure thing."

Tina gave Wren one last hug before departing, too. "See you soon."

…

Once in the Void, Wren looked around at those of her friends available to gather. North and Markus sat next to each other, their shoulders brushing. Josh leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. Tina sat cross-legged on the floor near North's legs while Hank sat on the edge of the couch, his elbows balancing on his knees. Even Kamski joined, standing by the console desk in the center of room. Connor stood on Wren's right, his arms folded and a crease between his brows. An expansive feeling blossomed in Wren's chest, and warmth for her friends tingled throughout her bloodstream. A small smile quirked her lips. If she survived Prometheus, she would spend the rest of her life loving her friends with everything she had.

"Alright, Connor. What did you find out that couldn't be talked about elsewhere?" Hank queried.

"I believe that Brewer downloaded my memories. He said to transfer them to the 'other one.'" Connor shifted and lowered his gaze. Wren's brow puckered. "There's something you all should know."

North, Markus, and Josh exchanged a glance. Tina leaned forward. Wren's chest tightened as she watched Connor struggle for the right words. His LED flickered yellow.

"I'm not the only Connor. The RK800 model has the ability to transfer memories and consciousness to other models. When I went to the CyberLife Tower the night of the Liberation, another Connor tried to stop me. My number is 313-248-317-51. His number was 313-248-317-60. There are other Connor models out there, at least nine. I think Axel downloaded my memories to one of them."

"Why would he do that? What's there to gain from having another Connor out there with all your memories?" North demanded.

Wren frowned. It did seem strange, just to have another Connor walking around. If this other Connor could fight and think exactly like her Connor, then couldn't they stop him by anticipating his next moves? Wren's stomach twisted. But the RK800 wasn't the only type of Connor.

"Oh shit," Wren breathed. Connor looked at her; his eyebrows raised. "Do you think your memories could be transferred to another type of RK?"

The corners of Connor's mouth downturned and his eyes shifted to Markus. "It's possible, but I don't know for sure."

"If I may," said Elijah, stepping around the console desk with outstretched arms, "Connor's memories could not be transferred to an earlier model, but they could be to a newer one."

Wren's stomach backflipped. That was exactly what she didn't want to hear. She met Connor's gaze. Her panic reflected in his eyes. "You don't think…?"

Connor's tongue poked out between his lips. "I thought he was destroyed at Atlas Montgomery's estate."

"If there are other RK800s, there could be more RK900s."

"Hey, lovebirds, you wanna fill in the rest of us?" Hank barked.

"At Atlas's estate last year, Connor and I found an RK900. What if his memories got downloaded to the RK900?" Wren explained.

"Again, why are Connor's memories so important? What's there to gain from having this Connor's memories in another body?" asked North.

"Yeah, wouldn't we just have another awkward, super-polite police detective walking around? I don't see the harm in that," said Tina.

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, this Connor wouldn't be like me just because he shares my memories."

"He's right," muttered Hank. He rubbed his mouth. "That night in the Tower, Sixty tried to kill me and Connor, memories and all. He had all of Connor's memories, but none of the empathy."

Connor folded his arms. "They might have another RK800 with all my memories, or an RK900 with all my memories. A better Connor. Every conversation we've had in secret, every plan, everything. They'd know it all."

"Wasn't Atlas with Prometheus, though? Why would Typhon need your memories to transfer them to RK900 if he was with Prometheus?" Josh queried.

A chill rippled down Wren's spine. Poetic. "It was a trap."

Connor glanced at her. "What?"

Wren rubbed her face. "Axel knew who we were. Someone blew our cover. He said something to me right before he drugged me. He said it was poetic for me to die that way. It's one thing for him to figure out I wasn't really Nicolette Black. It's another thing to have him know something so personal. Remember how hard it was to find who I was before Prometheus?"

"Yeah. Took us weeks," Hank snorted.

"Oh, holy fuck," whispered Tina. "You're not even Wren Blanchard in DPD's system. You're still under Wren Morgan, with that fake background. So, Axel had legit information."

"If there was a mole in the DPD, Axel would've called me Morgan, not Blanchard. I trust everyone involved in this with me. I know none of you would sell me out. My past with Red Ice is extremely personal. Someone also failed to give you guys the information about the weapons deal that shooting happened. I gave that information to Jamie. Prometheus should've warned you all in time to stop that shooting, but they didn't. The only common denominator is Prometheus. They must've fed information to Typhon. They're the ones with the RK900. They're the ones who needed Connor's memories."

"And now they know everything we've been up to," Connor muttered.

"If we're right about this, then they tried to kill you. There's no way you can go back to them," said Hank.

Wren shook her head. "No way. I'm not leaving the other cyborgs behind."

"Wren, they might've betrayed you," Tina said gently.

"I betrayed the androids as the Deviant Hunter," Connor argued. "They still accepted me."

"The cyborgs are Wren's people," agreed Markus. "She can't leave them behind."

Warmth flooded Wren's chest once more as she gazed at her android friends. She dipped her head to them.

North sat up straighter. "So, what should we do?"

Wren opened her mouth, hoping some elaborate, well-thought-out plan would flow past her lips. But no sound came out. She hoped that by the time Prometheus discovered their plans to take them down that she'd know what to do. But in truth, she had no fucking clue what to do next. No plan magically popped in her head. There was nothing. They lost their only leverage: Wren operating from the inside.

She bowed her head. "I have no idea."

"Not to rain on anybody's parade, but we don't know for sure that Prometheus blew your cover," said Hank. "We need to find out how Axel found out your true identity."

"One problem," said Tina, twisting to look at Hank, "he won't talk to anyone."

"Maybe he'll talk to me," said Wren. "After all, he probably thinks I'm dead or close to it."

Hank nodded slowly. "Maybe. If he doesn't talk, then we're just working based off a hypothesis that Prometheus blew your cover, downloaded Connor's memories to some RK900 guy, and now knows everything we've been up to. If we're wrong about this, then it could fuck up a lot."

"It's not like it's a wild theory though," said Tina. "I mean, come on. It's Prometheus."

"Yeah. They're not above kidnapping children and turning them into cyborgs. I doubt they care about blowing Wren's cover," agreed Josh.

"I know," Hank sighed.

"He's right," said Markus. "We have to make sure we exhaust every option if we're to succeed."

"In the meantime, you shouldn't go back to that apartment. Until we know for sure what's going on, we need to keep you away from Prometheus," added North.

Wren folded her arms. "If they really want me, they'll drag me back whether or not I'm staying in that apartment."

"It'll be harder for them to take you if you're with us," insisted North. "They'd have to kidnap you."

"Fair enough," Wren squared her shoulders. "Alright. I'll talk to Axel and see if our hunch is right."

"I'll catch you up on what's happened to Typhon on the way there," said Hank, shrugging on his jacket.

Wren glanced toward Connor, who remained quiet. He kept his head bowed and his arms crossed. Wren waited for everyone else to clear out of the room, nodding to Hank—who motioned that he'd wait outside—before approaching Connor.

"You okay?"

"No," Connor's voice cracked. "It's my fault."

"Connor, we talked about this," Wren's shoulders slumped.

Connor looked up. "I know, but… The thought of someone else with my memories…"

"It isn't your fault."

"Prometheus might know everything. Because of me, you'll be in danger."

"Connor, I'm always in danger," Wren shrugged. Connor's lips parted and his LED flickered yellow. "I'm in danger now. Every time I talked to you guys about things other than the case, I put myself in danger. Every time I went back to that apartment and found 06 waiting for me, I had to come with some dumb excuse. I was in danger every time I went back to Prometheus. I'm in danger coming to the Void. And you know what? I wouldn't be surprised if Prometheus doesn't already suspect me of conspiracy. My lies to cover up why I've been so friendly to you and the team are weak at best. They already suspect me and for good reason."

"But it would be my fault this time—"

"And now you know how I felt last year," Wren said quietly. Connor's frown deepened. Wren offered him a sad smile. "When I had the choice of returning to Prometheus or not. When those cyborgs attacked and Atlas Montgomery tried to kill us. Even now. All this secrecy, the Void… It's all because of me. Because you and everyone else are in danger because of me. When Prometheus caught up to me last year, do you know how fucking terrified I was? That's what made me choose to go back to them. I knew that if I stayed, all of my loved ones would be in danger. So, I chose to go back willingly. Rhett promised that I'd be taking them down, and that maybe one day I could come back, but honestly, I wasn't sure if I ever believed him. I chose to go back, even though I was pretty sure I'd never see you again. I was trying to contain the damage to just me. I wasn't going to let Prometheus touch you. Any of you."

"Contain the damage?" Connor repeated.

"I'm still scared that just my being around you, and you planning to help me is going to get you hurt. Maybe having your memories puts me in danger. But Prometheus is my fault anyway. At least the danger will be focused on me."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Connor squinted at Wren. Her stomach twisted. Maybe her speech about always being in danger hadn't been as eloquent as she thought. Connor flattened his lips and looked away for a moment. When he returned his gaze to her, his eyes pierced her. "You are not damage. I don't want the damage to be contained to you. Wren, I've known about Prometheus since we met. I knew the risks before I fell in love with you. I've been trying my best to get you out—to free you—because you deserve better. If Prometheus hurts you, they hurt me, too."

Wren gazed up at him, her chest aching to be close to his. Her eyes filled with tears. "If they hurt you, I would never forgive myself."

Connor cradled Wren's face in his hands, finally closing the distance between them. "I feel the same way."

"What are we even arguing about?"

A small smirk graced Connor's lips. "I could trace our steps and refresh your memory—mmf!"

Wren let her lips linger on Connor's for a few moments. She withdrew and grinned. "For luck."

"You don't need luck."

…

Wren drew in a deep breath before placing her hand on the scanner to let her into the interrogation room. She had a plan. Gripping Connor's phone in her hand, Wren entered the room.

Axel Brewer lifted his head groggily, but sobered when he recognized Wren. A sneer curled his lips. "So, you're finally awake."

Wren lifted an eyebrow as she sat across from Axel. "Are you ready to talk?"

Axel shrugged and leaned back in his chair. Wren tilted her head speculatively. On cue, Chris walked in. "Sorry to interrupt, Detective Morgan. Here's the file you requested."

Wren held out her hand and looked away from Axel. "Thanks."

Chris nodded and strode out of the room. Wren flipped through the file, though she didn't read anything in particular. Connor's phone vibrated softly with a text from Tina.

Tina: There was a nearly imperceptible reaction to the name "Morgan." He didn't seem to expect that. –Connor

Wren folded the file and laid it on the table.

"You know, you don't look like a Wren. Not with the blonde. The red hair suits you much better."

"I haven't had time to wash the dye out. You know, since I was in the hospital?" Wren raised a brow.

"You did take longer to recover than I expected."

Wren kept her composure, but Axel's words still surprised her. He hadn't tried to kill her with that Red Ice overdose? "Let's cut to the chase. Who was your informant about my and Connor's identities?"

"Well, his wasn't too hard to figure out," Axel bragged. "I mean, he's the only RK800 model walking around. I saw him on TV when the DPD announced the new bullshit Human-Android Division."

"And mine?"

"You're with the DPD. I gave you something, now you give me something, sweetheart."

"You're not in a position to negotiate. Why not just tell me? You've got nothing to lose. We've got enough dirt on you to lock you up for a long time."

Axel poked his cheek with his tongue. "I've got nothing to gain, either. And unlike you, I know where my loyalties lie."

Wren frowned. "What, to Typhon? There's nothing left of your syndicate. FBI's all over that now. But you probably already knew that. So, it's not to Typhon. What about your informant?"

Axel smirked. "You can guess all you like, doll. I see no reason to talk."

Wren smiled coldly. "You know, I have a theory."

"Congratulations."

Axel's sarcasm did not deter Wren. She knew her team watched on the other side of the two-way mirror. They observed every movement of Axel's, and as soon as they saw something suspicious, they texted Wren. And unfortunately for Axel, Wren was watching him closely, too.

"You said something to me before you drugged me. You said it would be poetic for me to die that way. Now, I know my history with Red Ice is incredibly hard to find because I could barely find it. There aren't a lot of traces of my identity left. It takes a shit ton of digging. I know you didn't do all that digging yourself, because let's face it, you don't really care who I am. You say you found out because of the DPD, but here, I'm known as Wren Morgan with an entirely different background, so I know you're lying about my identity."

Tina: His stress levels are rising. You're on the right track. –Connor

"When my friend called me Detective Morgan, you tried to hide your surprise, but you didn't completely succeed. I think it's because you know me as Wren Blanchard. Am I on the right track, sweetheart?" Wren paused, raising her eyebrows at Axel, who worked his jaw for a moment.

"That's some theory," he crowed, "but maybe you've just got a mole in the DPD."

"Nope, that doesn't play out. I'm Wren Morgan to the DPD, not Wren Blanchard. Have you listened to a word I've said?" Wren tilted her head as she eyed Axel calmly. He said nothing. "The only way you could've discovered my real identity is if someone who knows it told you."

Axel shrugged. "Maybe you can't trust all your friends."

Wren laced her fingers together. "Or maybe you're close with some of my enemies."

Axel held Wren's gaze but remained silent.

"Pauline Thomas," Wren said. Axel's eyes narrowed a fraction. "She ordered you to kill me. Your loyalties lie with Prometheus, because Typhon and Prometheus share some values, don't they? Prometheus is the last real cause for humanity. It makes sense for you to ally yourself with them." Wren leaned forward. "So. How was that theory?"

Axel stared at Wren for several seconds. Then, he clapped slowly. "Well done. That was entertaining. But, it's just a theory. You've got nothing but speculation. Why else would you be interrogating me?"

"There are just a few pieces that I'm missing," said Wren. "Why protect Prometheus and Pauline?"

Axel shifted and his eyes flicked to the camera in the corner of the room.

"Ah… You're not protecting them. You're protecting yourself."

Axel met Wren's gaze. "Like I said: I give you something, you give me something. S'how a relationship works, darling."

"You want protection from them."

Axel glanced toward the camera again. "Typhon was strong, but never as strong as Prometheus."

Wren typed a hasty message to Connor and Tina: Shut the camera off. Record another way.

"I've told my colleagues to turn off the cameras. Prometheus won't have access to this evidence. We have contacts in the CIA who can help protect you," Wren promised. Part of her did not want to protect this monstrosity of a man from Prometheus.

Axel eyed the camera until the red light shut off. He straightened. "What do you wanna know?"

"Am I right?"

"Mostly."

"Why would Pauline send me to infiltrate Typhon if she just planned to have me killed?"

Axel snorted. "Pauline didn't want you dead. The dosage I gave you was enough to kill someone, but not you. You've had pure thirium leak into your bloodstream before. Your body has a higher tolerance to thirium and Red Ice. She wanted you incapacitated."

"And Connor's memories? She wanted them downloaded to know what we've been up to, right? And transferred to another RK800?"

"Not an RK800."

Wren's stomach flipped. "RK900."

"You seem to have all this figured out. I don't see what you need me for."

"Why the big detour mission just to incapacitate me?"

Axel frowned. "It does seem like a waste of time."

Wren scrunched her brow. "Why did she need Connor's memories for the RK900? And why send me to infiltrate Typhon…?"

"C'mon, use that brain of yours," Axel taunted. "Pauline never wants to get her hands dirty!"

Wren scowled at him. "Answer my questions."

"I don't fucking know. You think I went to every meeting?"

Wren's eyes widened. "Typhon was a competitor. Prometheus sent me to dismantle Typhon."

Axel frowned. "We had plans to work together—"

"I'm willing to bet you had a disagreement on some of these plans. And Prometheus solved this by getting rid of Typhon completely."

Axel's jaw tightened. "Prometheus wants to remain in the shadows. They have plans that I wasn't privy to. I wanted to come out of hiding, to let humans know that there's hope for victory, but Pauline insisted we wait. She wanted you incapacitated because she needs you for something. She wanted Connor's memories because she said she needed them to activate the RK900 so that she wouldn't need to start from scratch on its programming. I guess Pauline didn't like how I handled things too loudly. So she's stripped Typhon to its bare bones." Axel grinned, half in admiration, half in disbelief. "That fucking bitch." He slammed his fist on the table.

Wren glanced toward the two-way mirror, ice trickling through her veins. She stood to leave.

"You better sleep with one eye open, sweetheart. They will be coming for you, and they're not going to hold back."

Wren swallowed and left the room without looking back. She hurried into the observation room where her team waited. For a moment, they all stared at each other.

"So…" Chris drew out the "o" for longer than necessary. "They definitely know what we've been up to."

"Phck," Gavin hissed, dragging a hand through his har.

Wren leaned heavily against the wall. She was not surprised that she and Connor had guessed accurately, but part of her wished they were wrong. Now Prometheus knew every plan they'd come up with. They knew that Wren had been working with the DPD to take Prometheus down. They knew about the Void.

"Well, one thing's for damn sure: whatever Prometheus wants to use you for, they're not getting you back," said Tina.

The corners of Wren's mouth twitched. Her eyes slid to Connor, who avoided her gaze.

"What now?" Hank asked. "It's your call, kid."

If Prometheus knew everything, there was no point in trying to play along with them anymore. They needed to act quickly before Prometheus used their leverage. "We need to go to the Void."

"Let's lock this asshole up first," said Gavin. He and Chris hurried to bring Axel Brewer to his cell while Tina and Hank left the observation room. Wren hung back with Connor.

"You okay?"

Connor sighed. "I'll tell you in the Void." He kissed Wren's cheek. The two of them strode out to meet Tina and Hank in the bullpen. Gavin and Chris joined a moment later.

"If anyone asks, we're going to lunch," muttered Hank. They moved as a group toward the exit of the DPD station.

"Hank! I want you and your team in here, now!" Fowler's shout silenced the rest of the bullpen. Hank, Wren, Connor, Tina, Gavin, and Chris froze. They shared slightly panicked glances before heading into Fowler's office together.

"Congratulations on taking down a crime syndicate we didn't even know existed," Fowler's voice glinted with an edge. "Meanwhile, the fuckin' FBI's breathing down our necks because the case your team was assigned is getting out of control!"

"Jeffrey, what are you talking about? The killer vanished and we infiltrated Typhon following a lead!" Hank snapped, his hands on his hips.

"Yeah, every trail we've followed has gone cold," said Tina.

"And what do you mean 'out of control'? The killer hasn't done anything in three fuckin' weeks," added Gavin.

Fowler shook his head and turned on the TV. Reporter Joss Douglas stood in Hart Plaza, a grim look on his face.

"Police and fire have been working to remove the bodies for the past few hours, but the carnage here is hard to hide. Viewer discretion is advised, because this scene is graphic." Joss moved aside to allow the camera to focus on the bodies behind him.

"Oh my God," Tina breathed.

Six bodies—three androids and three humans—hung from the Spirit of Detroit statue's arms. On a banner in purple blood read: NO TO INTERSPECIES LOVE.

Fowler changed the channel, and news anchor Rosanna Cartland filled the screen. "This horrific murder sends a strong statement, as the bodies were discovered in Hart Plaza, where the Android Liberation Movement took place nearly two years ago. Senator Catherine Zachary does not seem intimidated by this declaration, as she is still pushing to legalize interspecies marriage. With the increasing violence of this serial killer—"

Fowler cut off Cartland's report by shutting off the TV. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about this already. Connor and Wren have an excuse, but the rest of you—what the fuck have you been doing?"

"We've been sidetracked by Typhon," snapped Tina. "That seemed more important!"

"Yeah, this killer hasn't done jack shit for three weeks now. We helped break up Red Ice rings, shootings, and android trafficking thanks to our investigation!" added Gavin.

"Well, get back to solving this nightmare. Connor and Wren, you're both not allowed. You've been undercover for too long. You've got to be reevaluated before you can go back into the field. If we don't breakthrough with this case soon, FBI's gonna take over. You're dismissed."

Wren's stomach churned as she left Fowler's office. Every time the killer struck, her mind imagined Connor as one of those bodies. Or Chloe. Or Tina. Wren met Connor's gaze. Judging by his yellow LED, his thoughts conjured up something similar. Wren did not stop walking until they were in the parking garage.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Tina hissed, dragging her hands through her hair.

"Seriously, who the fuck is this guy? If he's not Typhon, not Prometheus…" Chris leaned against Gavin's truck.

"Of course the killer strikes when we're distracted," Gavin rolled his eyes. "What the fuck do we do now?"

"We can't ignore Prometheus," said Tina.

"But if we don't do our jobs, we'll all be fired," argued Chris.

"We'll split up," said Hank. "Chris, Gavin, Tina, and I will go to the crime scene. Connor and Wren, go to the Void. We'll meet up tonight and talk about the case. Alright?"

"Okay," Wren breathed. Hank handed his keys over to Connor.

Wren and Connor hurried to Hank's car. They did not speak the whole drive, but Wren occasionally glanced over at Connor to see his LED flicker yellow. He gripped the wheel tighter than necessary, too. Wren curled her fingers into her palms and focused on controlling her breathing. Great. A serial killer and Prometheus. As if things couldn't get worse.

When they reached CyberLife Tower, Wren and Connor practically ran to the elevator and to the Void. They burst inside, and as soon as the door shut, Wren turned to Connor with wide eyes.

"Shit!" she breathed.

Connor's LED shifted between yellow and red. "RK900 is meant to be a more efficient version of my non-deviant self. We need to find out if CyberLife still has any records on RK900. Maybe there's something we can use—"

"We need to contact Rhett," Wren paced back and forth. "We've gotta act fast, too. Fuck, I hate not having any sort of plan."

Connor inhaled deeply. "You're right. We need to plan something."

"We need to get this fucking listening device out of me," said Wren. "They know I'm on your side now. It would be helpful to talk to you without coming to the Void all the time."

Connor nodded. "I'll get Elijah."

"I'll text Rhett." Connor left the Void while Wren used his phone to text Rhett.

You need to come back. Prometheus knows. New plan. –Wren

Rhett: I can be there in two days.

Wren sighed and sat on the sofa. What were they going to do? Her only leverage against Prometheus was gone. She just prayed they had enough to get CIA's attention. But the cyborgs… Wouldn't they be held liable for Prometheus's dirty work? Would Prometheus terminate the cyborgs? And what about Wren? What was Prometheus planning to do with her? What did they need her for?

Elijah and Connor entered the room after a few minutes. Wren jumped to her feet. As quickly as she could, she filled in Elijah on what was happening. "You found the listening device Prometheus is using on me, right?"

"Yes," said Elijah, lifting a brow.

"Can you take it out?"

"Not without a minor surgery," said Elijah.

A lump swelled in Wren's throat. "Whatever it takes."

Elijah narrowed his eyes. "Might I suggest an alteration?"

"What?"

"Since Prometheus seems to require you for something, I suggest adding a tracking device in place of the eavesdropper. Ellis Hughman does not give up easily. Whatever they're planning for you, they'll find a way."

Panic flowered in Wren's chest. She swallowed the rising nausea. "How well did you know Ellis Hughman?"

"I knew Dr. Hughman and Axel Brewer quite well when I was at CyberLife. Dr. Hughman was in charge of CyberLife's experimental studies. He helped design many of CyberLife's prototypes. I believe he had a hand in Connor's design as well, but that was after my time. Axel Brewer was merely a shareholder. I believe he left when we developed more advanced androids. He was always a paranoid man." Elijah gazed off into space.

Wren and Connor exchanged a glance. Connor folded his arms and frowned. "Why didn't you tell us before?"

Elijah lifted his eyebrows. "It did not seem entirely important. Would it have changed your investigation at all? I already researched what I could, but none of it was really relevant. I did recently find something interesting about Hughman, however. After I left CyberLife, he started getting more experimental. From what I can tell, he's responsible for the cyborg developments."

Somehow, knowing the man responsible for her cybernetic limbs made Wren feel weird. Part of her supposed she was grateful—after all, without Hughman's experiments, she probably wouldn't be alive. The other part of her wanted to sock Hughman in the face. Was he also responsible for targeting her? How much of her cyborg condition was orchestrated by CyberLife, and how much of it was Prometheus? Had she been targeted as solely an experiment, or recruitment for Prometheus, or was it a mixture of both?

"What about RK900? Is there anything about him?" Connor queried.

Elijah snorted. "Unfortunately, I'm still trying to uncover everything that CyberLife was up to while I was gone. They encrypted a lot of information and files that are proving… difficult to decrypt."

"So Axel was a shareholder at CyberLife…" Wren crossed her arms. "Weird, considering his hatred of androids."

"I believe it's less of a hatred for androids and more of a fear of them. He accused us of playing god, making androids superior to humans. He was always talking about how the machines would rise up, so he left CyberLife."

"What about Hughman? Do you have any idea what Prometheus could need me for?"

"I can only speculate," said Elijah, holding up his hands. "But you should know that Dr. Hughman is both an expert in android and human anatomy. If he created cyborgs, and you're the first…"

Wren clenched her teeth to keep her bottom lip from trembling. Something about being the first, and Elijah's suggestion, made her feel like Prometheus intended her to be the last. Or worse.

"So, you'll remove the listening device?"

"Tomorrow afternoon. I might be an expert in android anatomy, but I am not in human. We'll need a doctor. But yes, tomorrow we can remove it. You'll be free from Prometheus's spying."

Free. She was that much closer to freedom. She only prayed that she'd make it all the way.

…

Sorry about the late update. I've been really burnt out, and so I took a break from writing. I'm slowly getting back into it, though! We're getting close to the end here… Don't worry though, there'll be a part 3! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter will have a bit more fluff. This book has been an angst train (which is why I think I've been a bit burnt out… Though school is mainly to blame).

Please review/comment, and happy new year!