"You're kidding me," Alec blurts.

My mind is already five steps ahead. I blink, forcing it to slow down, and notice that all three of them stare at me with looks ranging from surprise to horror.

"Let's be honest with ourselves," I say. "We don't have much of a chance of surviving in here if we factor in the Blanks. You've seen the damage one of them can do. Imagine if there are three or five or ten more of those things at the same time."

"How does cutting ourselves off from the Takers improve our odds?" Willow asks suspiciously. "If anything it'll backfire. They'll kill us for insubordination."

"They won't do that." I'm not one hundred percent confident in my words, but they don't need to know. "You said it yourself. Sam promised we'd be spared if we make it out alive."

Willow lets out a laugh. "You don't get to disobey Sam and expect everything to turn out just fine. You should know that. Unless you're used to him coddling you."

"They brought us here to turn us into Mods," I say, trying not to bristle at the dig. "They have bigger plans for us outside this place. I'm guessing a lot of money went into this project. They wouldn't throw all of it away just because we're desperate to stay alive."

"That's a big if," Willow responds, her voice softer. I catch her eyes dart to the camera behind me. "You don't know them like I do. This is suicidal."

"No, it's not." I sigh. "Look, I get that you're worried, but I do have a plan. I'm not rushing into this. I know it's a lot to ask for but just . . . trust me, okay? All of you."

I look from one face to the next. Carson is frowning. Willow stares at the table, rubbing her brow. Alec is the only one who looks like he's considering my proposal. I'm not surprised. He's never struck me as a coward. This is, after all, the guy willing to stand up to his father for his relationship with Willow.

She seems more like someone who stepped in line more often than she acted out or rebelled against orders. Just like me. Which makes sense if Sam raised both of us. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to survive now. Question is, is she?

"Sure," Alec says. "You've got my support."

"I have a feeling nothing I say will stop you, so I won't try," Willow says.

I give her a tight nod. I don't know what prompted her to have my back since day one, but everything feels weird now, thanks to her attitude. It doesn't escape me that Sam is the reason there's tension between us. He's found a way to ruin yet another friendship for me.

"If y'all are doing this, then I'm all for it," Carson chimes in.

I look around at the table grimly, refusing to treat this as a victory.

Compared to all the hurdles before me, it's not.

We're going over details of our rebellion when Marcus shows up. "Willow, right?"

I don't know which of us is more surprised. She looks up at him with big eyes and says in a quiet voice, "Yes."

"Come with me."

He walks away, assuming she'll follow. She does.

"Here's hoping Marcus takes the news well," Alec says.

"What news?"

He chuckles. "You're not going to get me to talk so easily. Sorry."

"I have Willow to thank for that," I mutter.

"I'll tell you one thing. Back when we were kids, Willow and Marcus were like brother and sister. They were a couple of misfits. Marcus had his temper, and Willow was an outcast because Sam kept her on a leash. I guess they both needed a friend. A lot has happened since then, but deep down, I think she still cares about him. This is her way of honoring an old friendship. By keeping his secrets."

I can't picture it. Willow and Marcus as friends. They have absolutely nothing in common and it's difficult to imagine a time when they ever did. "What's Buzzcut's deal? I never hear anything about him."

"Adam? He's a good kid. Quiet but reliable. Keeps to himself mostly. He can create invisible shields around himself, which is cool to see. He used to get picked on a lot. He was scrawny back then. Afraid to get into fights. Marcus took him under his wing. He helped him get in shape and learn how to throw a punch. He's been loyal to Marcus ever since."

"He's Frankie," I whisper.

Except this story has a happy ending. Looking at a big and strong guy like Adam, you'd never think he was ever bullied. Marcus did that. He taught him how to stand up for himself. And even though Marcus lost his memories, some instinctive part of him has continued to keep Adam close to him. Adam was more than happy to resume his place beside Marcus.

"Frankie?" Alec asks.

"Never mind. Tell me more."

"Well, things were a lot different back then. I was closer to Janie and a few other kids who died over the years. But as we grew older, we shifted around. Now it's me and Willow on one side and everyone else on the other. Sam's kids against my dad's."

"Against? I thought Sam and Jonathan Blaine are on the same side."

"They are, but there's some kind of rivalry between them." He glances around and brings his head closer to me. "I think Sam wants to take over Gardiner. He's in charge of both facilities, but with the way he's constantly second-guessing everything my father says and does, he doesn't seem to think he's fit to be the director."

"Doesn't that bother you?" I ask.

He shrugs. "He hasn't been much of a father, but he's still blood. But I think I'm going to side with Sam on this one. At least he cares about us. We're not just some pawns for him to move around on a chessboard. My father is a dangerous man. I have no doubt that even if we survive this, he won't let us walk out of here alive. Not even me."

"I'm going to get something to eat," Carson says suddenly.

I give him a questioning look, which he answers with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm fine, April. You don't need to worry so much about me."

"What's going on with him?" Alec says as he walks away.

I fill him in, relieved when he looks more concerned for Carson than horrified at the thought of dealing with another Blank. "Hopefully the delayed changes are a sign that his body is fighting the transformation," he says. "It might mean he'll be okay."

"Do you know this from experience?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "The Takers always knew when someone was about to blank. They'd get them before it happened. Someone would be there one day and gone the next, and life would move on."

"You've never heard of anyone being cured?"

"No."

I let that sink in. I can't picture Carson turning into a mindless killer like the boy yesterday. He's so gentle. So him. I was hoping his bleeding ear was related to becoming a Mod, not blanking, but maybe I'm just fooling myself.

"Buzz—um, Adam has a shield ability," I say. "Willow's got compulsion and Janie can mesmerize people. Marcus's thing is super-strength. What about you and Eli?"

"Eli hasn't had a seizure yet." He sticks his hands in his pockets, smiling sheepishly. "Mine is a crappy ability. I make people feel good by taking away pain or bad emotions."

"That's actually good," I say, impressed. It's like Weasel's emotion manipulation ability, only it affects the ones that can hurt someone. "Is that why Camille didn't feel any pain when she was dying? Because you were using your ability on her?"

"Yeah."

He says this with emotion, and my heart softens. "I'm glad she had you," I say softly.

Alec nods and I know he's thinking about the way she bled out in his arms. "You and Willow don't make sense though," I say in a rush. "Your abilities don't seem to complement your personalities in any way."

"I told you that Sam keeps Willow on a tight leash. She's always been obedient. She does everything Sam and the other heads expect of her. I guess some big part of her always wanted to turn the tables on everyone. Tell them what to do or how to think for a change. Compulsion seems to fulfill that need, even though she's never abused it."

Obedient but rebellious in her own way. We're more alike than I ever realized. I wonder if I would have the same ability if I became a Mod. Probably not. Getting inside people's heads and telling them what to do has never been something I want. Like Marcus said, I'm a runner. My power would have to be something that complements my self-preserving nature.

"What about you?" I ask Alec.

He laughs. "I'm a bleeding heart. I hated seeing people get hurt or angry even as a kid. I've had to toughen up since, thanks to Gardiner, but I still can't stand suffering."

I nod. It's not so hard to imagine. He's always worn his compassion proudly. Camille's final moments are proof of that.

"What was Sam like?" I ask him. "When he was with you guys."

He grins. "A hard-ass."

I smile in return. After seeing Willow's clear devotion to him, I couldn't help thinking he was different with her and the others. But Alec's description fits him perfectly. It means I'm not the reason he was so cold and unrelenting.

I'm not to blame for that.



We're eating lunch when Marcus and Willow come back. She hurries over to us, her head down and her posture stiff. My gaze follows him as he marches across the cafeteria. Giving him space doesn't seem to have helped. Not one bit.

I intercept him before he reaches the kitchen hallway. "Can we talk?"

I brace myself for rejection, but he surprises me with an abrupt nod. Thirty silent seconds later, we reach the shower room. He goes over to a sink and grabs onto the edges, leaning his weight forward. His eyes are fixed unseeing on the empty mirror frame.

My throat clenches. "What is it?"

He looks over his shoulder at me. We stare at each other this way for so long I have to lock my knees to stop them from shaking. Then he turns and takes several steps toward me. He stalks me. My breath trapped in my throat, I back up until I'm pressed up against the wall.

There's a look in his eyes that I can't identify. I've dealt with many versions of Marcus. Enraged Marcus. Annoyed Marcus. Smirking Marcus. Teasing Marcus. Even Vulnerable Marcus. But I've never seen this hard, almost cruel, look in his eyes.

I sigh when his expression softens into something I do recognize. Desire. He places his hands on the wall, bracketing my head, and leans in. He kisses me deeply until my body goes soft. My anxiety gives way to something hot and electric, but I fight it. I let him kiss me for five heart-pounding seconds before ending it. "Wait. We need to talk."

"Talking is overrated," he says, breath warm against my cheek. His mouth moves to my throat, pressing soft, titillating kisses to my flesh. "I prefer something more hands-on."

"Marcus," I breathe, my head spinning.

He steps in closer in response. The weight of his body against mine is intoxicating. There's a tiny voice in my head warning me that this place is too public and anyone could walk in and see us, but I'm too far gone. I thread my fingers through his hair when he kisses me again and makes me feel like nothing else exists but this moment. It's frightening, this effect he has on me: the way he makes me forget every concern I have in the world.

Almost every concern. There's an unmistakable desperate edge to his kiss, and I can't ignore the worry pulsing in my gut. I pull away and take a few steps back, maintaining head-clearing distance from him.

"I know something happened between you and Willow. I want to help you make sense of whatever she told you. Give me a chance. Please."

All trace of desire burn away from his eyes, leaving them cold and steely. "I don't have any problems, sweetheart. And even if I did, turns out I'm not the talking-things-through type. Not in my real life, where who I am actually matters."

Who I am, he says. So that's why his emotions are unrecognizable to me. Whoever he thinks he is now—it's not the Marcus I've come to know.

"Willow told you?" I ask.

He laughs and shakes his head. "I didn't want to hear her twisted version of my life, so I asked her to remove whatever was blocking my memories."

"Did she?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.

"Yeah." His lips harden into a line. "I remember everything."