News media wondered what caused the destruction of Metatech’s headquarters in Seattle. They would guess at the radiation footprint. Metatech’s stock would plummet, cratering in the pavement along with Reed’s. Apsel stock would struggle on for a little while longer, but after Carter let all gate secrets out they’d be gone too.

  They weren’t the only syndicates. Just the biggest and the meanest. The ones run by full-fledged assholes.

  Carter opened a link connection as the city’s bedrock shook. She ignored thousands of cries of confusion and fear, focusing on one person among the rest. He’d come for her across worlds to overthrow the devil at his gates. Yes, he’d had help. No, he couldn’t do it alone. But he, and the woman at his side, didn’t care she was a machine. They cared for Carter.

  It’s why she loved him. And now, Sadie. Two human souls she trusted with her truth.

  Carter wanted to touch Mason. Feel his face while they walked under a clear blue sky, but she was a machine, and the sky hadn’t been clear for years. Words had to suffice. “Hello, Mason.”

  Chapter Forty

  Mason walked with Sadie through Seattle as ash fell from a sky already burdened with rainclouds. It coated everything, a fine gray chalk turned milky by rain. The heavens bruised, dark blues and purples brushed by red and orange as Metatech’s tower burned into the bedrock.

  Streets filled with people anxious to see the end of the world. Mason pushed against the thrash of humanity, hand on Sadie’s elbow. Her face was coated with grime, but her eyes were keen and bright. Hopeful and shy at the same time. Mason knew the look. It said, I climbed this mountain for you, but if you don’t want me, I’ll pretend it was never my idea.

  An old diner ahead beckoned, the lights out. Windows were intact, the door locked. Mason shouldered it, the metal bolt popping free, and held it open as she stepped through.

  Sweat and excitement followed her. The scent seemed to permeate the emptiness inside. Her gaze caught his before it was gone as she ducked inside, her boots stamping on the floor as she made her way out the back.

  Mason waited, one hand on the door, the other on his heart. His excuse was watching for followers, but really he gave her space. Space to think. To just … be. Three goddamn months was a long time. Mason gave Sadie time to think. To reconsider. Hell, he would if he was her.

  He swallowed hard. Not easy though, is it, company man? Mason’s hand clenched, knuckles popping. A bitter draft hustled in, running an icy finger down his back. He knew how he felt about her. Mason carried it like an anchor, tied to his heart, rooting him to this place. The wind whispered shit he already knew. You’re in way over your head. It brought a longing so keen it felt like cold fire.

  “It’s empty.” Sadie’s voice carried from the back.

  Two short strides took him to a chair. Old metal screeched as he dragged it to the door, jamming it closed. Memory lingered like a hundred ghosts, clutching at his jacket. The diner smelled of good food and happiness. He’d have gone here as a kid, or in another life maybe, before he had the money to go somewhere more expensive. Not better, but flashier, glitz above the human kindness of a good meal served by honest people.

  Mason made for the counter, stepped through the swing door behind it, and found Sadie crouched. She rummaged through cabinets, casting aside tinned food on a quest for something. She stood as he entered, running a dirty hand through her hair. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

  It was now or never. Touch her or wonder for the rest of your days what might have been. Mason was done with wondering. He closed the distance, steps keeping time with the thud of his heart. “I do.”

  She froze, eyes widening until he saw himself in the reflection. “Mason, I…”

  “You what?” Jesus F Christ, Mason, your heart is beating like a jackhammer. Sadie swallowed, her eyes slipping down to his body. He felt her focus like a jolt of electricity. He lifted his hand, calloused fingers running along her arm. Even with the ash and grime she was perfect. “Say yes. I can take it from there.”

  “Yes.”

  Mason stilled, lifting his gaze. He met her eyes.

  “Yes, Mason. Yes.” Sadie raised her hand, outstretched fingers over his heart. Mason was a kid all over again, fingers fumbling, heart racing as she stepped closer. His arms went around her, over the swell of her hips to cup the sweet curve of her ass. Mason yielded to her, body and tarnished soul. He met Sadie’s lips. She was so soft, mouth parted, letting him in. Sadie reached for him, jerking him closer, lips pressing, bruising, as though she wanted to push death’s memory away.

  He released the clasps on her armor, undershirt bunching under his fingers. Mason ran his hands down her back. She tasted of ash and hope, like much of this world. But also sweet, something Sadie buried beneath the hard, impossible thing life made of her.

  She gripped his jacket and yanked, sliding it from his arms to hit the floor with a thud. Mason shivered as she lowered her head, fingers spreading under his shirt.

  “Look at me.” Mason’s voice was husky. “I need you to see me.” She did, her lips skimming the swell of his chest before she met his eyes. He saw her longing. Mason tossed her armor to fall on the floor where it belonged. Something took flight in her eyes, something … uncertain. Not like the Sadie she showed everyone else, but the real her underneath.

  Sadie looked away, her body tense. It said, I’ve never been to a clinic.

  A growl tore from his chest, feral and dangerous. Not here. Not between us. This moment was what she needed, to see what he held prisoner inside. Mason ran his hand along her leg, lifting, taking her weight as he knelt. He was so careful, so goddamn careful laying her down on the ground. Mason would love her here, but he knew he’d loved her since forever. Just took a while for your brain to catch up with your heart.

  She bit her lip as he ran his hand along her stomach, capturing her shirt as he went, revealing perfect breasts. Mason lowered his head, fingers teasing the cup of her bra, revealing dust-pink nipples. Smooth under his tongue, tightening to peaks as she let out a moan. Mason’s hand dropped to her underwear, fingers working to release her.

  Heat rushed, welling between his legs, making him heavy. Sadie’s nails clawed his pants, desperate for purchase. One yank of her boot and it was cast aside, followed by the other. She worked the button and zipper on his pants, then shoved them low.

  Cool air slipped between his thighs as she kicked her underwear aside. One of her breasts was still exposed as he moved between her legs. Mason wanted to be different, to be slower.

  Sadie’s breath caught, eyes widening as slick skin met fingers. Her eyes sparkled with hunger as he thrust inside.

  A moan tore from her lips. Sadie widened her legs, hands gripping, pulling as Mason eased back and sank deep, lost to the rhythm of her. He drowned in her eyes, floated on the scent of her.

  Mason braced his body with one hand, lowering his head to her breast, catching the nipple gently between his teeth as he thrust, again and again. Sadie caught her lower lip between her teeth, thighs straining. He lifted his head, watching her as need broke. Mason’s body tightened as a cry slipped from her lips. He buried himself inside her all the way until he twitched, grip tightening, holding her against him as warmth washed Mason away.

  They lay like that for a second. Words chased each other around his head. I want. I need.

  I love.

  Mason didn’t know how long they held each other, but after a time she whispered in his ear. “Get up.”

  “Weird angle?”

  “This floor is cold, uncomfortable, and fucking unforgiving.” Sadie’s eyes shone, relief and joy brimming over despite her words. Mason laughed, helping her stand. Their clothes waited on the floor as responsibilities did outside. He smiled, shook his head, and went to the walk-in cooler. “What are you doing?”

  “Food,” said Mason. “I’ve been hungry for so long but never felt it until now.”

  They made it to Afterlife. The bar wasn’t like Mason remembered from earlier in the day. Warmer, despite being darker. Comfortable, despite being battered. They walked through the doors to Sadie’s place, holding each other as ash and rain fell outside.

  The world might be ending but Mason couldn’t stop touching her.

  Inside, Delilah waited at the bar. She gave them a long, calm look, nodding like things were coming together like she’d expected. In front of her was a chunky glass with amber liquid in it. “Hey.”

  Sadie detached herself from Mason, walking to Delilah. “I only needed one way out.”

  “Hmm.” Delilah shrugged, a half smile about her lips. “Might be as lucky as you are stupid.”

  Sadie laughed, taking no offense. “How’s the hero business?”

  Mason made his way behind the bar. With Abinal behind him, he could focus on the serious business of getting drunk.

  Delilah swirled her drink. “It’s okay. I guess there’s a shortage of employers now.”

  “I need a bar manager.” Sadie unclasped her armor, letting it hang loose around her shoulders. Mason caught a glimpse of skin. “You look like you need a job.”

  “I thought you managed the bar.” Delilah made it sound like a question.

  “I do. Or did.” Sadie eyed Mason, seeing the two glasses he prepared, nodding like he’d read her mind. “We’re going on vacation.”

  Delilah smiled. “I can look after the place.”

  The door opened, a man hurrying inside. He shut the door behind him. Mason took in a long coat, his optics cycling to thermal from long habit. No weapons, just link architecture. A normal person, hiding from the storm. The newcomer cast a furtive glance around. “You open?”

  Sadie nodded. “We’re always open.”

  “Good. I could use a drink. The world’s dying.” He hurried toward the bar, sluicing gray water from his coat.

  “No.” Sadie shook her head. “It’s remembering how to live.”

  Mason offered a glass to Sadie. “Before we leave Seattle, there’s one thing I need to do.”

  It took a couple days for things to settle. Emergency crews arrived in Seattle, proving governments still had a place in moping up the wreckage from a syndicate spill. There wasn’t any percentage in cleaning up your own mess, and besides, there wasn’t anyone left at Metatech, Apsel, or HumanE.

  Mason ignored the feeling in his chest that said he should weep for the death of a world. A single death is a tragedy, a million a statistic. But he’d been there, breathed Abinal’s air, shared their pain. And he’d only saved a handful. Laia and Zach. Actually, just those two. Harry got the others.

  “I could do it, Mason.” Carter sounded like she wanted to, a need to be useful after the trials of the last few days.

  “You could. But this is important. We need a … ceremony.” Mason turned to Laia, seated beside him in the auto taxi, eyes peering outside through glass tinted almost black. Speaking in the real, he asked, “Are you sure about this?”

  Laia turned to him, eyes still full of wonder from the everyday that passed outside. She can see so much good in everything. “Yes.” She patted his leg, comforting a wild horse. “You’re nervous.”

  “I am.” Mason shifted in his seat. “Never had much use for civil servants.”

  “You’re not nervous about that.” Laia turned her gaze outside.

  She’s right. But he wanted this, nervousness or no. The auto taxi pulled to a stop outside a bland government building. It housed many different services. A little run-down, a little weathered, but it’d do. The doors were open despite the destruction around syndicate towers. Mason held the door open for Laia, the girl bounding up the steps. She vanished inside.

  Mason sighed. “Carter?”

  “You can do this.” She sighed right back at him. “You’re all grown up.”

  Mason walked after Laia, finding a spring in his step he hadn’t expected. Inside, optics adjusting to the gloom, he followed panels guiding his path. Up a set of stairs, wide and old, the marble worn, the handrail smoothed by the passage of many hands, some tiny. At the top, he took a left, entering a small doorway with a simple plaque. CHILDREN’S BUREAU.

  Inside, a small man waited behind a desk, hands clasped in front of him, Laia already seated. No reception. No expensive foyer. Government work at its funding-crippled best. Mason sat next to Laia, giving the man a long stare. “Hey.”

  The government man cleared his throat. “How can I help you today?”

  “Better start on the offensive.” Carter sounded like she was smiling and covering her mouth with a hand. “His name is Clark Brockway. Clark lives with his sister, so he’ll understand. He’s poor, because government pay is shit.” She hummed for a second. “Well, here’s a surprise. Not a deviant. Not an asshole. An unpaid overdue notice from the library. He reads. You could take something from this after all.”

  Mason leaned forward. “Mr. Brockway?”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “He is a wizard,” suggested Laia, cheeks dimpling impishly.

  “I’d like to adopt Laia Manera,” said Mason, ignoring Laia’s comment but holding his hand toward her. See? Exhibit A. “I hear this is the place.”

  Brockway eyed Mason across the desk. A simple console waited to Mason’s right, but the screen was off, and the government man made no move to turn it on. “Adoption isn’t like ordering drive-thru, Mr…” He trailed off, waiting.

  “Floyd. Mason Floyd.” Mason leaned back. “It’s not meant to be simple, or easy. It’s your heart wanting the impossible. Two people who don’t know each other meet. The world’s not been kind to either, but together, they make it through. We’ve done the work. But we want to make it official. Laia’s my daughter.”

  “Sometimes sacrifice—” Whatever Brockway was about to say was cut off as Laia slammed her hand on his desk.

  She shook her head a sharp negative. “No. Now you listen.” She stood, leaning on the desk. “This man is my father. He has born all my hurts. Listened when I cried or shouted in anger. He forgives when it isn’t due and feeds me when he goes hungry. Mason stood against armies for me. I wish he was my blood, but they are dead and dust. This is what I want.” Laia sat, like someone cut her strings.

  “I, uh.” Brockway blinked. “Uh…”

  Mason reached into his pocket, pulling out a roll of dirty greenbacks. Pulling the rubber band off, he thumbed through the C-notes, counting them onto the desk. “Sacrifices, like you sitting here in this office, day after day? Cheap entertainment. Books, not the screen. But you’re helping others.” Mason met Clark’s eyes. “How many others could you help with this?” Mason kept piling notes on top of each other until his roll was empty. He placed the rubber band on top of them, then sat back in his chair.

  Brockway’s lips were wet, and he shifted nervously. “Hmm.” He stared at the pile of money before giving Mason a good look. Taking his measure. “Who are you?”

  “Mason Floyd. Used to work for the Federate.” Mason shrugged. “Not anymore.”

  “That’s not how those things work.” Brockway drummed his fingers on the desk, not touching the money. “You’re in for life.”

  “I’m making a bunch of new choices,” admitted Mason. “Laia needs papers. She needs safety. You can give her the former. I can give her the latter. Can you do the right thing and help us out?”

  Turned out the answer was yes.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Delilah walked the emptiness of Afterlife, wrapped in her thoughts. Sadie and Mason were getting some alone time. Laia and Zach watched the stars of their new and forever home. The kids were planning a road trip together. Everyone had a place to be and someone to be there with except for her.

  Even those annoying oracle kids were gone. Vanished like free beer.

  She made her way to the sidewalk, the people of Seattle even braving the streets in oldtown. For the first time in what felt like forever, the sun shone. It beamed from the heavens, warm and delicious. Delilah closed her eyes and turned her face toward it. The air smelled of damp and people, but all sharing the same experiences.

  No one was alone. Not anymore. People smiled to one another. Shared coffee. Helped each other. They didn’t know why the syndicate war stopped. None cared.

  Even Lace and Harry were absent from Afterlife. Carter opened a trove of information from her time locked in Goliath’s embrace. She wasn’t just fighting for her life. Delilah smiled, thinking of the AI’s orneriness, the sheer go fuck yourself of a machine that, even under another’s boot, lifted their wallet.

  The cornucopia of information, stolen from data hives across the world, suggested experimental medical procedures might give Lace her legs back. Stem cells. Anole lizard DNA and HGH. Lace could walk, and maybe Harry could breathe and feel the sun too.

  The process took months. It could kill you. Human trials said results were iffy at best. But the way Lace looked at Harry said, A tiny chance is all I ever asked for.

  Delilah figured that was true for all of them.

  She went back inside, coming face to face with Mike. He wore a shirt this time but unbuttoned. His skin was unmarred by his encounter with Ruby Page, the clinics putting him right, but he paid with cash, not credit. There wasn’t credit anywhere anymore. His eyes still carried the pain of failure. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” She brushed past him, fingers on his arm for the briefest of moments. “Been a long week.”

  “Been a long year.” Mike followed her into the dim comfort of Afterlife. “Not out partying?”

  “Like a BBQ?”

  “Sure.”

  “Bar, But Quiet.” Delilah gestured at the room. “Got it already.”

  He laughed, but with a little sadness she wasn’t used to. “Thank you for calling me on my bullshit.” Mike’s eyes found the ground, drawn there by all the hurt he carried. “I almost—”