Zeke’s sword flew up, the tip halting an inch before Rhys’s throat. “It’s not her.” “Like it wasn’t her last time?” Rhys asked, but he wasn’t watching Zeke. He was watching Maggie, his gaze mistrustful. “It’s not the same.” Zeke had been careful. He hadn’t pushed himself or Maggie, and his shield—defective as it was—hadn’t failed. “There’s another explanation.” Rhys shifted his attention to Zeke. “You should have let me mentor her. I’m not perforated. She couldn’t have gotten past me and manifested a swarm. We wouldn’t have to take her out.” “What do you mean, take me out?” Maggie asked. “I cooperated. I did everything Zeke said.” Rhys looked ready to take Maggie out now, so Zeke didn’t let his sword waver. “If Lillian couldn’t connect with her, neither could you. You’re not a curator.” “This has to happen, Zeke.” Something deep in the house clattered. Rhys glanced over his shoulder and back. “She’s dangerous. We can’t let her continue to manifest, or it could be the last screw up any of us make.
