Chapter Eighteen

Wren placed a coffee and a chocolate donut on Gavin's desk. He lifted his head and narrowed his eyes. "What's this?"

"A truce," Wren replied, circling to her desk. She plopped down in the seat and sipped from her own coffee. "I won't go behind your back anymore. We're partners now, which means we've got to work together. We don't have to like each other, but we should at least be amicable."

Gavin pulled the donut from its bag and squinted at it. "Amicable, huh?"

"I didn't poison the damn thing," Wren said, resting one arm over her middle.

"Does this mean I have to be nicer to the toaster?" Gavin jerked his head in Connor's direction.

Wren's gaze flicked toward that way. Connor sat upright, working on paperwork and conversing with Hank. His LED circled a soft blue. The corners of Wren's mouth twitched and something in her chest softened when she looked at him. She faced Gavin, her eyes hardening. "Yes, you do. He's my friend. He's a really good person, and he doesn't deserve your shitty attitude."

Gavin poked his cheek with his tongue. He lifted his hands, palms forward. "Fine. As long as you tone down the goo-goo eyes."

Wren lifted a brow. "Goo-goo eyes?"

"Yeah," said Gavin, shrugging. "Everybody sees how you stare at him."

The color drained from Wren's face. She leaned forward. "I don't stare at him in that way."

"I swear to fuck, if you say that you're just friends, I will choke myself with this donut."

"We're just friends."

Gavin rolled his eyes and Wren hoped they got stuck in the back of his head. He shoved much of the donut in his mouth and chewed for a few minutes before swallowing noisily. Wren lifted her eyebrows, her expression otherwise deadpan. Gavin wiped his mouth and leaned forward. "Friends don't look at each other like that."

"You're reading into things that aren't there," Wren stated. "Besides, why are you watching us anyway? You obsessed with me or something? Oh, maybe you're obsessed with Connor."

"Oh, fuck off," muttered Gavin. "I'm not the only one who's noticed."

Wren snorted, but heat prickled the back of her neck. "Right."

She stood and trekked to the breakroom, motioning for Tina to follow. Tina waited for Wren to reach the breakroom before jumping up, so as to avoid suspicion. Wren glanced toward Connor and Hank's desks. They stood, but instead of heading for the breakroom, they left the station. Wren relaxed and turned to Tina, folding her arms.

"Did you tell Gavin about me and Connor?" Wren whispered.

Tina widened her eyes. "What? No way. Why? What'd he say?"

"He just said 'friends don't look at each other like that,' which is what you said to me," said Wren, leaning against the counter.

Tina grinned. "Then you're being a little obvious about it, huh?"

Wren rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. "How do I even look at him?"

Tina mimicked a face that Wren suspected Disney princesses wore. "Like you want to love and cherish him forever. With a side of that android dick. Does he have a dick? Do you know?"

Wren's cheeks warmed. She buried her face in her hands. "I haven't asked, Tina."

"I will," Tina chirped. "He'll just think I'm weird."

"Do not ask him if he has a dick."

"You wanna be surprised when you guys are getting frisky?"

"That's not going to happen anytime soon, I assure you."

"Fine, fine. Look, I don't know why you guys don't just tell each other how you feel. Or you tell him. You obviously care a lot about him."

Wren shook her head. "No, I don't want him to feel like he has to return the sentiment. He's still not used to emotions and emotional attachments. I don't want to pressure him."

"Wren," said Tina flatly, "the other day, when we were all laughing at that video of Chris's son, I noticed Connor just about snap his robot neck looking at you. He definitely has feelings for you."

Wren pushed down the soaring feeling in her chest. "He… He could be misinterpreting his feelings. Look, I don't even really know how I feel about him. I care about him, but… I don't know if that's platonic or romantic or familial. I don't have good, healthy relationships to compare this to. I don't really know how you know if you're in love or not."

Tina blew out a long breath and looked toward the ceiling. She rolled her shoulders. "Look, I'm a firm believer in the whole idea that you don't love the same twice. Every relationship is different. I think that ultimately, it's up to you to decide what love means for you. Honestly, it kind of transcends emotion."

"Whoa," said Wren, raising her eyebrows, "that was deep."

Tina grinned. "Shut up, asshole. You know what I mean."

"I do," said Wren, lowering her head. "I just don't know how to define it for me."

"That's something I can't really help you with."

"I know," said Wren.

"Hey, Red," called Gavin, poking his head into the breakroom, "we've got a case."

Tina flashed Wren a thumb's up. "Good luck on your first day back in the field."

"Thanks," said Wren, walking backwards out of the breakroom, "hopefully I won't get stabbed today."

…

Wren stepped into the dirty alleyway. She lifted her eyebrows when she saw Connor and Hank at the crime scene, standing behind the dumpster. Gavin tucked his sunglasses into the collar of his T-shirt. "Great. These fuckin' assholes."

"Be nice," Wren warned.

"Or what? No more donuts and coffee for me?"

"I'll pour salt into your coffee instead of sugar," Wren threatened.

"I'm never accepting coffee from you again," muttered Gavin.

"Just be nice to Connor and Hank and you have nothing to worry about," Wren promised, flashing Connor and Hank a smile.

"Two bodies," said Hank. "An android and a human."

"Well, you two are in charge of android-human related crimes. Why are we here?" said Gavin, folding his arms.

"I believe the killer is a human," said Connor.

"So we've got humans killing androids and humans," muttered Gavin, stepping past Hank and Connor to look at the bodies. Wren moved to follow, but Connor held out a hand to stop her.

"I should warn you," he said in a low voice, "the dead android is the same type of model that North is."

Wren felt the color drain from her face. She pursed her lips and nodded stiffly. Connor stepped aside, allowing Wren free access to look at the bodies. She froze as she stared down at the dead Traci with North's face. Wren's breath quickened and she wiped her clammy palms on her pants. It's not her. It's not her. It just looks like her. North is okay.

Wren blew out a breath, forced herself to maintain her composure and crouched beside the body of the dead human. It was a man, shot once in the head execution-style. Wren narrowed her eyes as she examined the body. The entrance wound was slightly skewed, as if the killer's hand shook when they took pulled the trigger.

"The killer didn't have that steady of a hand," said Wren, twisting to look up at Connor. "Is that what gave it away?"

Connor tilted his head. "No. There are fingerprints on the note left behind. Though, that is a stark indicator of a human killer."

"A note?" said Gavin, straightening from examining the dead man.

Connor passed over a note in an evidence bag. Gavin took it and frowned. Wren peered over his shoulder at the note and mimicked her partner's frown. The note bore only a single word: Anonoma. She peered at Connor for an answer.

"It means 'without name,'" he stated. "We believe they are an organized crime circle targeting Traci androids."

"So why a human now?" said Gavin.

"What's his name?" Wren turned to Connor, folding her arms.

"Varick Sullivan," said Connor. "He worked at CyberLife as an engineer, but was terminated due to his unethical conduct." Connor frowned, his LED flickering yellow as he processed new information. "Oh."

"What?" Wren queried.

Connor's brow pinched. "He conducted experiments on androids in need of repair. One android killed their… owner. Sullivan was never found guilty."

Wren scowled. "Why not?"

Connor tilted his head, his brow still furrowed. "The evidence was deemed circumstantial and the outcome was ruled as inconclusive."

"Who investigated that case?" Hank asked, his arms folded.

"Officer Wilkins," said Connor.

"Poor Wilkins," said Hank, shaking his head. "So, this guy's got connections who'll help him out in a bind."

"Until he turns his back on them," said Wren. She shifted her weight to one hip. "Looks like he pissed off the wrong people."

"Maybe he was gonna snitch on this Anonoma group," suggested Gavin.

"But why are they killing Tracies?" Wren asked.

Connor tucked his chin toward his chest. "There's evidence that the Tracies were reset before they were killed."

Wren bit her lip. "Does resetting erase deviancy, too?"

Connor met Wren's gaze and her stomach lurched. "Yes."

"So why reset them?" Gavin asked. "So they can't fight back?"

"They're essentially slaves," said Wren. Her brow puckered. "But why kill them?"

"My guess is that they were showing signs of deviancy," said Connor.

"So why not reset them again?" Gavin queried.

Wren folded her arms. "That's a good question. Killing them leaves a body trail."

"So maybe this killer isn't doing it out of duty to Anonoma. Maybe they don't like Tracies," suggested Hank.

Wren nodded slowly. "Explains why the killer's hand shook when they shot Varick Sullivan. To someone who doesn't view androids as alive, killing an android is easier than killing a human."

Connor's gaze dropped. Wren glanced at him, her heartstrings twanging. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, but she did not want to prove Gavin right. She needed to control herself. It had been easier to do that when she worked for Prometheus, as her programming also helped keep her emotions in check. Now, they had free reign.

"Connor, what did Varick Sullivan do after his trial?" Wren asked. Connor lifted his gaze.

His eyes glazed over as he analyzed Varick Sullivan's background. "His bank records suggest that he worked as the Eden Club's engineer. He programmed the androids to wipe their memories, fixed them when they were damaged and upgraded them to make them more pleasurable to humans."

Wren scrunched her nose and frowned, feeling rather queasy. She hugged her middle. "Then I think we need to go to the Eden Club."

"They're not the same Eden Club they used to be," said Gavin. "They offered to pay their androids for their work. Most of the androids left, but some stayed for pay. Eden Club hires humans now, too."

Wren raised an eyebrow. "You sure do know a lot about the Eden Club."

"Shut up," said Gavin with a roll of his eyes, "I'm staying on top of the news. I want to make sure no more assholes like Dipshit here come to take my job."

"If any androids like Connor exist," Wren said, lifting her chin, "and they take your job, it's because you suck."

Hank snorted while Gavin glowered at Wren. He stepped forward. "What happened to a truce and playing nice?"

"You stopped playing nice first!" Wren argued.

Hank forced his way in between them. "Alright, that's enough, you two. Let's go to the Eden Club, see what we can find out about this Anonoma group and Varick Sullivan."

Wren stepped back, though she still watched Gavin through narrowed eyes. She set her jaw and dipped her head once to acknowledge Hank's suggestion.

…

The Eden Club was unlike the strip club that Wren once worked for. The other strip club had dark, red lighting and velvet cushioned couches encircling the stage. They had kept it dark and mysterious, claiming it gave the place a "sexy atmosphere." The Eden Club, however, was bright. Pink and blue neon lights lit the room, stinging Wren's eyes if she stared at them directly. The floor was dark blue carpet, muffling their footsteps. Electronica music thumped through the walls like a disco heartbeat. Wren felt the vibrations reverberate through her bones.

Pink light fell over one half of Connor's face while blue illuminated the other. He seemed to glow in the neon light. Wren supposed that was the point of the odd lighting. Wren tore her gaze away from him.

"Alright, Connor and I will ask around about the Traci, see if anyone knew her. You guys ask the owner about Sullivan. We might want to be careful about mentioning Anonoma. They might know of it, they might not," said Hank.

"Aye, aye, Captain," muttered Gavin. He walked off and Wren followed with a backward glance at Hank and Connor. She turned away, trying not to think about the erotic pink light on Connor's face.

They found the owner of the Eden Club in a back office. He was a tall man with slicked back dark hair. His glittering eyes looked Gavin and Wren over. He licked his lips. "You must be the detectives. I'm Res Cole." He held out a slender hand for Wren and Gavin to shake.

"Detective Reed. This is Officer Morgan," said Gavin, jerking Res Cole's hand.

"Charmed," said Res Cole silkily. "What can I help you with?"

"We came to ask about Varick Sullivan. He used to work here as an engineer," said Wren.

"He was an investor, too," said Res Cole, his face shadowing. "But the bastard pulled out after the liberation. We had to hire human dancers when three quarters of our android dancers left. Then we started paying the androids, and that was the last straw for him. For a lot of our investors, apparently."

Wren tilted her head. "You seem bitter about this."

"Who wouldn't be?" snapped Res Cole. "When he and Creta Shaw pulled their support, the Eden Club nearly went under. We're just now getting back on our feet. I can't even hire bodyguards to protect the dancers."

Wren frowned. "We found Varick Sullivan's body early this morning."

Res Cole's eyebrows jetted toward his hairline. "You think I killed him? No way. Sure, I was pissed off, but Shaw protects him. I wouldn't cross her."

"Creta Shaw," said Gavin slowly, "that name rings a bell."

"It should. Her family comes from old money. Really old money. She's one of the richest people in Detroit. She's also very anti-android," said Res Cole.

"That's where I remember her name," said Gavin. "She gave a speech recently, didn't she?"

"I don't know, I don't keep up with that shit," shrugged Res.

Wren wrinkled her brow. "You said she protects Varick Sullivan?"

"Or protected," said Res, "if he's dead now. But yeah. She runs a club downtown. Place called The Illusion."

Wren nodded. "Thank you."

She and Gavin left and wandered into the open area of the club. Several androids and humans danced on the stages and poles, smiling and winking seductively. One Traci stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her black lingerie. Her dark hair hung over her shoulder. Her Hispanic complexion was doused in glitter, which caught the light every time she moved. She lifted her dark eyes and smirked when she saw Wren staring.

Wren crossed over to her. "Hello. My name's Officer Wren Morgan."

The Traci smiled. "A woman in uniform. I like that."

Wren cleared her throat. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"If it's you, no," said the Traci.

Wren pursed her lips for a moment. "What's your name?"

The android blinked. "Ana."

"Ana," Wren repeated, "are you aware of the recent Traci models going missing and turning up dead?"

Ana's seductive smirk faltered. "Yes, I'm aware."

Wren dipped her head. "You're taking precautions to stay safe?"

"I am. I never go anywhere alone," said Ana.

"Good," Wren puffed. She glanced at Connor, who joined her. He held up his palm, showing a picture of the dead Traci they just investigated. Her model number appeared at the bottom of the picture.

"Did you know this android?"

"Yeah," said Ana, furrowing her brow. "That's Tanya. She left the Club months ago. Is she okay?"

Wren's lips parted. "I'm sorry, Ana. We found her body this morning."

Ana closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. "RA9," she murmured. She lifted her gaze to meet Wren and Connor's. "What do you need to know?"

"Do you know anything about a group called Anonoma?" Connor questioned.

Ana's eyes widened. "Only that they're an extremely vocal anti-android organization. Mostly they just scare androids by showing up to speeches and marches… I'm pretty sure that Creta Shaw funds them."

"Why do you say that?" Wren queried, folding her arms.

"Because she basically said so on her blog," said Ana. "I try to read the anti-android blogs to make sure I know to stay away from certain areas of town. They plan attacks in those blogs."

Connor and Wren exchanged a glance before turning back to Ana. Wren placed a hand on Ana's arm. "Please go to Jericho and tell them what's going on with these dead Tracies. They might be able to provide protection. I know North will want to help."

Ana nodded. "I might stay there for a few days for things to calm down."

"That isn't a bad idea," said Connor. "They have lodging there for androids without residences. Make sure the other androids here know."

"I will," said Ana.

"Thank you for your time," said Wren.

Ana's lips twisted with a smirk. "Anytime, Officer Morgan."

Wren's cheeks heated as she turned away with Connor. They joined Hank and Gavin near the entrance.

"Looks like we need to talk to this Creta Shaw," said Gavin.

Hank rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know if we should outright talk to her. She's a powerful woman and she might not like a bunch of cops butting into her business, if she really is organizing this crime ring. She'll have dangerous allies."

"What if," said Wren slowly, "she didn't know we were cops?"

Hank's eyebrows lifted. "You just dyin' to go undercover again?"

"Well, we could talk to patrons there as well as Shaw herself. If we go to the club and talk to patrons or find someone who works for Shaw, we can get information on how to take her down," said Wren.

"And if they don't give us any information?" Gavin challenged.

"Then we talk to her directly. But she does have the right to refuse answering our questions. And we don't have any evidence linking her to this case. Just a lot of hearsay," said Wren.

"You think you can get someone to talk?" Hank queried.

Wren smirked. "I have my ways, Lieutenant."

Hank shook his head. "I don't wanna know. Let's just try to get you guys in this club. I'm too old to go clubbing and Connor is too… Connor. It's gonna be up to you two."

Wren exchanged a glance with Gavin. He nodded and Wren faced Hank. "We can do this."

…

Wren entered The Illusion in a dress that Tina loaned her. It was simple: black satin with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. Even Gavin looked spiffy in his dark button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and fitted jeans. Wren wished she could see Connor in something like that. Her eyes stretched at the thought and she forced it into the depths of her mind. She shook it off and sauntered into the club, making sure to sashay her hips. She knew this game all too well. The dark red lighting of the club reminded Wren of the strip club she worked at in Ellsworth. Except this lighting seemed less sexy and more apocalyptic. Wren's eyes noted the dancers in the middle of the room, the bar off to the side, the Tracies dancing on stripper poles to the left and the stairs leading to a loft above. A guard blocked the stairs. Wren assumed that Creta Shaw –or anyone else important –occupied the loft.

Wren swept off without a word to Gavin. They knew their objective, and it was best that people didn't think they were here together. Wren watched the dancers. Gavin disappeared in the crowd. Wren's eyes flicked over businessmen sitting in the velvet seat encircling the dancers' stages. She needed to find someone who worked for Shaw, someone she could seduce easily. Wren stopped as an android carried a plate of drinks passed.

"My apologies," said the android in a flat tone. Wren looked into the android's eyes. They were dead, lifeless. Wren's heart jumped. She never wanted to see that blank look in Connor's eyes. Or North's. Wren swallowed and stepped aside, allowing the android to pass. Wren made her way to the bar, not ready to dance yet. Her gaze fell on a man leaning against the bar. He wore all black.

«scanning» [SENTRY 2-Wire PTT Earpiece Detected]

Bingo. Wren plastered on her most seductive smile and sauntered over to him. "You look lonely."

The man looked at her, his eyebrows lifting toward his sandy hairline. "Maybe a little bit."

"Buy me a drink?" Wren said huskily.

"I'm on the clock, sweetheart," said the man.

"That's too bad," said Wren, stepping closer to him. She toyed with the buttons of his Polo shirt. "I was really hoping to make a friend tonight." She leaned toward him, allowing her breath to tickle his ear as he spoke. When she drew back, the man waved the bartender –an android –over.

"What do you want, doll?" he asked.

Wren looked at the android. "An Apple of My Eye," she ordered. "And don't forget the apple slice."

"Of course, miss," said the android, jumping to work. Wren masked the stab of guilt easily, turning her head to smile at the man.

"You got a name?"

"Johnny," said the man. He shifted to face her. "You?"

"Isabelle," said Wren. She leaned closer, resting her chin on her hand. "But my friends call me Belle."

"Belle, huh?" said Johnny. He grinned. "Suits you."

Wren feigned bashfulness. "Thank you."

The android brought Wren's cocktail to her. She sipped the apple vodka, maintaining eye contact with Johnny. He watched her lick her lips with a slackened jaw.

"Why aren't you out there dancing?" said Johnny.

Wren glanced at the dance floor. "I don't have anyone to dance with."

"Why don't you go find someone? I told you I'm on the clock," said Johnny, though Wren noticed the glint in his eyes.

Wren pouted. "You don't want my company?"

"I-I do," gulped Johnny as Wren placed a hand on his thigh.

"Then why are you trying to get rid of me?" Wren breathed.

"Don't see why you're wasting your time with me," muttered Johnny.

Wren snorted. "Well, you don't know my type, Johnny. Maybe it's you. Maybe it's the beefcake over there. Maybe not."

Johnny's gaze flicked to the muscular man grinding on some blonde girl. He looked back to Wren. "Well, I hope it's me. I get off in a… twenty minutes."

"Hopefully it takes longer than that," Wren teased. "To get off."

Wren saw the blush on Johnny's cheeks, even in the blue light. Wren plucked the apple slice off the rim of her drink and took a bite out of it, still staring into Johnny's eyes. Wren offered part of the piece to him. He shook his head. Wren finished the slice and glanced toward the android bartender.

"I thought this place was anti-android?" she queried.

Johnny shrugged. "It's anti-free android. These have all been reset."

"Ah," Wren nodded with a smile. She sipped from her drink. "That's smart of Ms. Shaw."

"You did your homework," said Johnny, raising his eyebrows.

Wren bit her lip. "They're all sex androids, right?"

"Yeah," said Johnny, sounding disappointed. "Creta Shaw makes a lot of money off them."

Wren tilted her head, eyeing a Traci taking a man in a suit into a private room. "What happens if the androids start going deviant? If I'm gonna pay for a good fuck, I don't want the damn thing suddenly asking existential questions, if you know what I mean."

Johnny's face fell. "You're a potential customer?"

"I'm a potential whatever Ms. Shaw wants out of me," Wren replied, running her hands along Johnny's chest.

"Multipurpose, huh?" Johnny choked. "She'll like that. She just resets them."

"So… If I have an android I wanna sell to her… She'll take it off my hands?" Wren puckered her lips.

"D-depends on if she likes it or not."

"Oh, she better like it. The model I have is worth a small fortune. But I don't want to draw attention with it, you know?" Wren winked as she brought her lips back to Johnny's neck His cologne nearly gagged her, but she continued kissing him. She teethed his pulse and he jumped.

"G-gotcha. Yeah, if she thinks its worth it, she'll buy it. What kind of android is it?" Johnny tried to sound casual.

"It's multipurpose," Wren breathed into Johnny's ear. He shivered underneath her. "Sort of like a bodyguard android. Think she'd be interested?" Wren drew back, lifting an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah. She's been having a problem with one of her people destroying her androids," Johnny licked his lips as he stared up at Wren.

"You're shitting me," Wren gasped, pulling back from Johnny abruptly.

"I'm not." Johnny frowned.

Wren lowered her gaze. "Then maybe I shouldn't sell my android to her…"

"Why do you care what happens to it?" Johnny wrapped his hands around Wren's and placed them back on his chest.

"I don't. I just want to make sure I get my money's worth," Wren replied, lifting a brow.

"Creta's not the type to screw you over. But uh… I'd like to, if you're into that," Johnny murmured, staring up at Wren with rounded eyes.

Wren laughed. "Smooth, very smooth."

"Wanna dance?" Johnny queried.

"Get me an audience with Shaw, and I'm all yours," Wren promised.

Johnny smiled crookedly. "You're cold. Fine, I'll bite."

Wren grinned and winked at him. She took him by the hand and led him to the dance floor. She started with her back against Johnny's chest. She swayed her hips, grinding against Johnny. He placed his hands on her hips. She bowed down to touch the floor before straightening slowly. She rolled her body in tune with the bass. She raised her arms and sank down to a crouch again. Spreading her legs, she bounced once and jumped up again. She faced Johnny, curving her body against his. His goatee scratched her face as they grinded against each other. Wren pushed Connor from her mind to focus on the mission. Some part of her wished she were dancing with him rather than Johnny. The other part of her hoped Connor never saw her dance like this. She didn't want to scare him away with this side of her.

After the song ended, Wren looped her arms around Johnny's neck, panting. "Take me to Creta Shaw."

Johnny nodded, a dazed look in his eyes. He led the way to the staircase in the back. The guard standing in front of the glass stairs stepped aside, though he narrowed his eyes at Wren. She lifted her eyebrows at him, challenging him to say anything. He remained silent. Wren followed Johnny up the stairs to semi-circle white sofa in the back. Creta Shaw sat in the middle, one leg crossed over the other. She wore a sparkling gown with a high slit. She lifted one sculpted eyebrow.

"Johnny, you know how I feel about visitors," she said coldly. Her ice-blonde hair hung to the middle of her neck in long, sleek bob.

"We've got a potential business partner," said Johnny. "Or… you do, ma'am."

Creta Shaw sipped from the glass in her hand. "I'm listening…?"

"Isabelle Lawson," Wren fibbed. "I have an RK800 model. Prototype. I could sell it to you," Wren said, folding her arms.

Creta's eyebrows pinched together slightly. "An RK800? To my knowledge, there's only one. How did you come by it?"

"I used to work for CyberLife. I worked on this particular model. It's equipped with the latest technologies. I hear you've got a problem with someone destroying your androids," Wren lied smoothly.

Creta's eyes flicked to Johnny. "Mr. Thompson told you correctly, if out of turn and above his paygrade."

"This RK800 can solve the problem for you," Wren replied.

Creta settled her grey eyes on Wren. "I'm aware of the RK800's capabilities. You never answered how you… obtained such an asset."

"I told you. I used to work on it at CyberLife. It trusted me after it deviated. I reset it," Wren shrugged.

Creta puckered her lips. "Hm. How'd you know to come to me?"

"Do you even read the news? Traci models going missing, turning up destroyed… And then here, you have all these Traci models. It wasn't hard to connect the dots," Wren replied, lifting her chin.

Creta clucked her tongue. "Looks like I need to be more careful. Tie up loose ends." Her eyes narrowed at Johnny. "I'll deal with you later. Go."

Johnny backed away, a slightly panicked look on his face. Wren maintained her composure, but her stomach twisted at the thought that she might have personally signed this man's death warrant. She faced Creta, her face smoothing into cold composure. "Do we have a deal?"

Creta tilted her head thoughtfully. "Bring the RK800 here tomorrow afternoon. I'll look it over and decide."

"If you like it?" Wren queried.

"Then you'll be a rich woman."

"And if you don't?"

Creta smiled. "Then I have loose ends to tie."

"Sounds pretty risky for me."

"Well, if you're who you say you are, there's no need to worry, is there?"

"Guess not," Wren shrugged and turned to leave.

"One more thing," Creta called. Wren turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised. "Why are you so eager to get rid of this model?"

Wren snorted. "It's a highly-equipped prototype model. You've got the means to keep cops off your trail. I don't want to catch anymore attention with it. Besides, I've just been waiting for the right time to sell it."

Creta dipped her head. "I look forward to doing business with you, Ms. Lawson."

"Likewise, Ms. Shaw," Wren returned. She left the loft, her heart pounding in tandem with the click of her heels. She caught Gavin's eye as she strutted across the dance floor and to the main exit. Wren walked down the street and wheeled when she heard footsteps.

"It's just me," said Gavin. "What've you got?"

"A problem," said Wren as they trekked down the block to where Hank and Connor were parked. Wren and Gavin slid into the backseat. Hank drove off, taking the long way to the station. "I met Shaw. She doesn't know who's killing the dead Tracies. But, I think if we take her down, we can draw the real killer out of hiding."

"And how do we do that?" Hank questioned.

Wren chewed on her cheek. "I… kind of offered to sell Connor to her."

Hank, Connor and Gavin looked at her. "The fuck's wrong with you?" Hank demanded, facing the road again.

"Well, obviously, I don't actually mean we're going to sell Connor. We're just going to make her think we are." Wren quickly explained her rough plan.

"I don't like it," said Hank. "A lot of things can go wrong."

"We don't have a lot of time to decide," said Wren. "We have the chance to take down an anti-android crime ring and draw out a killer. Connor records everything he sees. We can catch her admitting to what she does, arrest her and find our real killer."

"I say fuck it," said Gavin, shrugging. "Wren and Connor are capable of handling themselves long enough to wait for backup. We wait with some backup while they go in, get Creta to admit to things, and then they're out."

"And what if shit hits the fan?" Hank countered.

"Then we'll be there to help," said Gavin.

"Okay, and if this doesn't draw out the killer?" Hank demanded.

"Then we take down an anti-android crime ring. We'll be helping the androids there, too," said Wren. "They're kidnapping these Tracies, resetting them so that they're no longer deviants and selling their bodies. Every time they deviate, their memories are wiped and they're reset. Hank, this is a whole new form of sex trafficking."

The car's air thickened with a heavy silence. Hank dragged a hand down his face. "Fine." He parked the car at the station. They waited for Gavin to get out before driving home. When they were back inside Hank's house, Hank locked the front door and turned to Wren. "I don't like this one bit. I don't want either of you idiots getting hurt."

Wren offered him a soft smile. "We'll be okay, Hank. Gavin's working on getting Chris and Tina as backup. Just don't make it obvious that you guys are cops when you surround the place, okay? We don't want to spook Shaw before we have a chance to catch her."

"Yeah, yeah, I know how undercover stings work," said Hank, waving a hand. He placed his hands on his hips. "Get her to offer to pay and then Connor can alert us and we'll come in. You both will be going in unarmed. Just her offering to buy Connor will be enough for an arrest. Just… get her to do that, and you'll be golden, okay?"

"Got it," said Wren. Hank's lips pulled in a strained, lopsided smile. He backed away to his bedroom and closed the door. Wren chewed on her cheek before facing Connor. "I'm sorry I had to throw you under the bus. It was the quickest story I could come up with that would give me an audience with her. The way I had to talk about you to get her to accept… You know I don't really think of you that way, right?"

Connor tilted his head. "I didn't hear anything you said to her, Wren."

Wren looked away. She closed her eyes for several seconds. "Tomorrow, I'm going to have to say things that will…" She took a deep breath and lifted her eyes to meet Connor's. "I'm going to have to treat you…"

"I know, Wren," Connor murmured, stepping toward her. "You're just accomplishing your mission."

Wren pursed her lips, tears stinging her eyes. "No, I want you to know that… I don't think of you as an 'it' or a machine or a thing… And I certainly don't think you're lesser than me or just merchandise. You're so much more than that."

Connor's lips twitched. "I know you don't think those things of me. But I appreciate you saying so."

Wren nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She wrapped her arms around Connor's waist. "I'm sorry in advance for how I'll treat you tomorrow."

Connor returned the hug, though gently. "It's alright. I understand." They were quiet for a moment. "Wren, I will have to act like a machine in order to convince her that I am not a deviant."

Wren balled her hands into fists and nodded into his chest. "Looks like we're both going to have to play a part to do this."

"It does look that way, yes." Connor's voice sounded tightened than usual. Their grip on one another constricted for a moment.

Wren withdrew, blinking back tears. Connor's lips parted, but he did not comment on Wren's uncontrolled emotion. She jerked a nod. "Let's take this bitch down."

…

Wren entered The Illusion, which looked just as dark during the day as it did at night. Fewer people were there, but the club still managed to treat customers. Connor wore his old CyberLife-issued clothing, which, to Wren's amusement, did not look much different from his usual work attire. The branding on the jacket set Wren's teeth on edge, but Connor looked like himself in it. He followed Wren, assuming the role of subservience while Wren held her head high. She knew she looked the part of a cold, calculating businesswoman. She could play any role she needed to. But that was before she'd broken free of her programming. Emotions were harder to control without it, and just the thought of treating Connor like an object plagued her stomach with nausea.

Creta Shaw stood near the glass staircase. Instead of leading them upstairs, she directed them to a door behind her. They followed Creta inside a room with bright white lighting. Wren blinked against the harsh change in setting. Creta stood in the center of the blank room, her hands clasped in front of her. Two guards stood on either side of her. Wren gestured to Connor.

"The RK800," she announced. "As promised."

Creta kept her features impassive as she circled Connor, who stared ahead, impossibly still. His LED remained blue. He looked at Creta with cold indifference. Wren's stomach twisted seeing him act so unalive.

"It is an attractive model," Creta mused, stopping in front of Connor. She lifted a hand to cup her chin. "I'm assuming it is equipped with a sexual organ?"

Wren cursed the blush creeping up her neck. She maintained a smooth, impassive expression. "Yes, but it is not equipped with the advanced sexual capabilities that Tracies are."

Creta nodded slowly. "That can be fixed." she murmured. She backed away from Connor, still eyeing him. Wren glanced at him. His eyes flicked to hers for a millisecond. Wren turned toward Creta.

"So? Do we have a deal, or are you gonna stare at it all day?" Wren demanded.

Creta's lips quirked. "I want it to take off its clothes."

Wren scowled. "What? Why?"

"I want to see what I'm buying first," said Creta coldly, meeting Wren's gaze. "Or do you have a problem with that?"

Wren clenched her jaw before looking at Connor. "You heard her. Take off your clothes."

Connor looked at her, his LED flickering. Wren's heart stuttered, but Creta did not seem to notice Connor's LED. In fact, Creta did not watch Connor remove his jacket. Her eyes were on Wren, who forced herself to remain unbothered as Creta stepped nearer.

"You know, I have friends who used to work at CyberLife," said Creta. Wren stiffened as Creta stood right behind her. Creta's chest pressed against Wren's back. Connor slowed the process of loosening his tie, but he stared ahead. "And they told me that there was one overseeing engineer who was in charge of the RK800." Creta's lips tickled Wren's ear. Connor tossed his tie to the side, his eyes flicking to Wren's for a moment. "And their name wasn't Isabelle Lawson."

Wren stiffened. "I didn't say I was the chief engineer. I just said I worked on it."

"Well, none of them mentioned an Isabelle Lawson working there."

Connor worked on unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.

"CyberLife's a big company."

"It is," chuckled Creta, "but what I find most interesting is the RK800 itself. You know, I've never seen a non-deviant android look at their human master quite like how this RK800 keeps looking at you. And how you keep looking at it."

Connor's LED flashed yellow. Wren's lips parted as their eyes met. Wren heard the click of a gun's hammer and twisted. She roundhouse-kicked the gun out of Creta's hand. She wrestled the woman to the ground while the guards opened fire. Wren trusted Connor to take care of himself. Wren punched Creta in the face. Connor slid on the floor and grabbed Creta's gun and opened fire on the two guards, killing them instantly.

"This is Detective Connor, requesting backup," said Connor, his LED flickering. He and Wren stood and hurried out of the room. The guards in the club opened fire at Wren and Connor, sending the patrons of the club into a frenzy. Connor grabbed Wren and they dove over the bar and landed heavily onto the floor. Glass and booze rained down on them. Connor jumped up and opened fire on the security guards. He dropped back down beside Wren. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of thirium seeping through his shirt and blazer.

"You're hurt," Wren breathed.

"They didn't hit any vital biocomponents," Connor said. "I'm fine."

Wren nodded stiffly. She tensed when a small flash grenade landed before them. She grabbed it and tossed it back over the bar. "How the fuck did they get a grenade?" she said, dropping back down beside Connor. The explosion trembled the building. While the remaining guards fumbled in the wake of the flash, Wren and Connor jumped over the bar and headed for the main exit. Too many guards blocked it, so they veered toward a corridor.

"I'm downloading the blueprints to the building," Connor said as they ran, "there's a back exit ahead."

"Lead the way," Wren replied. Connor turned down a hallway and Wren followed. They sprinted toward a service exit. Two guards entered the hallway. As soon as they saw Wren and Connor, they lifted their guns. Connor raised Creta's gun and fired at one of the guards. Wren pushed herself past Connor as the second guard aimed at him. She jumped and used the wall to propel herself at the guard. She wrapped her legs around his head and twisted, bringing him crashing to the floor. Connor shot the other guard in the head. Wren knocked the guard she'd brought down out and jumped to her feet. They ran to the exit door and pushed it open, bursting into a back alley. Wren doubled over, panting.

"There's a back entrance, Hank," said Connor, pacing the alley. "We're in the alley behind the building. Call for emergency aid and any surrounding units. We're fine…" Connor turned his back to Wren as he paced, talking to Hank via his connection to Hank's communicator.

Wren straightened and widened her eyes when Creta Shaw stepped into the alley, blood running down her cheek. "Fucking androids." She lifted her gun, aiming past Wren at Connor.

Wren reacted before she thought. It was something she'd been trained to do. It came easily in a fight, acting on instinct. But Prometheus had honed her instincts to keep her alive. She was trained to kill and to survive. But she ignored that instinct as soon as Creta raised the gun and aimed at Connor.

Time seemed to slow as Wren ran to block Connor from the bullet. He had turned upon hearing Creta's voice, but he seemed frozen as Wren jumped in front of him. The bullet tore through her body. She stood still, unable to feel any pain. Creta's eyebrows were raised, still holding the gun up. The impact of the shot knocked the breath out of Wren, and she stumbled back. Connor caught her and laid her on the ground. Connor's eyes searched Wren's. Her vision blurred. He looked away from her for a moment and a second gunshot sounded. Wren heard Creta's body crumple to the ground.

"Officer Morgan is down, requesting immediate medical aid." Connor sounded calm, save for the slight tremble in his voice. He looked down at Wren, who met his gaze through half-lidded eyes.

"You'll be alright. Stay calm," said Connor, though he looked as if he were telling himself. He placed his hands on Wren's torso, in between and slightly lower than her breasts. Blood flooded into the back of Wren's mouth. Her chest burned. She choked on the blood clogging her throat. Connor looked away, focusing on the wound. He pressed harder and pain seared through Wren's body. She let out a whimper and Connor looked at her, his LED flashing red.

"H-Hank! I need help!" Connor yelled. Wren had never heard him sound so desperate. A second person crouched beside her.

"Jesus Christ…" Hank murmured. "Eyes open, kid. Don't go to sleep, alright?"

Wren forced her eyes open. Her vision slid in and out of focus. She looked at Connor, her body convulsing.

"Here, kid," said Hank, handing Connor his overshirt.

Connor bunched up the Hawaiian-patterned shirt and used it to staunch the blood pouring from Wren's body. Her skin felt sticky. She focused on Connor, watching the way his brow pinched and the corners of his mouth were drawn taut. He avoided her gaze as he placed pressure on her wound. It hurt, and Wren jerked away, letting out a whimper.

"Don't move," Connor said. "I need to maintain pressure on the wound."

"I know it hurts, kid," said Hank, peering down at Wren. He placed a hand on her forehead.

"Where's the ambulance?" Connor demanded.

"On its way," said Hank. "The others are making arrests now."

"How far?" Connor snapped.

"I don't know, a few minutes," said Hank.

"She doesn't have much time!" Connor cried. Wren's pulse quickened and coldness struck her in the pit of her chest. Was she going to die?

"Connor, calm down," barked Hank. "Wrenley, keep your eyes open for us, sweetheart."

Wren forced her eyes open again. She didn't remember closing them. Connor's face peered down at her, his eyes bright, almost feverish. She glanced at Hank. He looked calm, but his eyes betrayed him. She looked at Connor. "S'okay, Con…nor… 'm okay…"

"Don't speak," Connor said sharply.

Wren winced as another flood of pain wracked her body. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. Blood trickled from her mouth. She gazed up at him, and tears filled her eyes again. Her chest ached, though not from the wound bleeding her life away. "Connor…"

"Stop talking!" Connor snapped.

Wren looked between Connor and Hank, who shared a panicked look. Connor's LED continued to circle red. Wren coughed a bloody chuckle. "Do me… a favor…"

"What?" Hank demanded.

"Act… like you guys… are going to… see me… again…" Wren wheezed.

"You're gonna be alright, kid," Hank sounded pained. "Eyes open, sweetheart, eyes open."

Wren forced her eyes open once more. She looked at Connor through blurred eyes. His lips parted and his eyes were wide. "Please stop talking, Wren. The bullet penetrated through your upper abdomen, and you're at risk of a collapsed lung. I need you to remain still and quiet." He looked at her, his eyes earnest. "Please."

Wren wanted to argue, because she had so much to say. She didn't want him to blame himself. She didn't regret her choice. She wanted to tell him… She reached for him, but her arms were too heavy. Her synthetic skin rippled away and she stretched her fingers for him. She needed to tell him before she died. She needed him to know.

Two paramedics arrived, shooing Connor and Hank away. Wren looked around for them, her eyes wide. "N-no, please… don't… leave…" Tears filled her eyes. She didn't want to die with strangers. She wanted her family.

The paramedics wrapped an oxygen mask around her face. They patched up her wound as best as possible. She looked around as wildly as her heavy head would let her. Her head lolled to one side as the paramedics lifted her onto a gurney. She couldn't see Connor or Hank. Tears slipped down her temples and into her hairline. Then, they were on either side of her as she was pushed toward an ambulance.

"We'll see you at the hospital, kid," said Hank.

"I want to ride with her," Connor insisted.

"This is too urgent sir," said one of the paramedics, "we can't allow that." They lifted Wren into the back of an ambulance. Instead of the sky, or Connor's face, she saw a florescent light. She closed her eyes to shield herself from the light.

"Let… him…" she murmured, but the oxygen mask muffled her breathy whisper. She opened her eyes, looking for Connor. She wanted him to know that she loved him.

...…...

Thank you guys for the support!

Songs:

"Die for You" by Starset

"This Is the End (Markus)" by John Paesano ((don't imagine Wren taking a bullet for Connor and him trying to save her if you don't like pain))

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!