“Owwwwwww,” she complained, sitting up and rubbing the back of her neck. “What did you hit me with, a taxi?”

“No,” her attacker said coolly. He followed it up with, “You’re not what I expected at all.”

She saw who it was and leapt from the bed. Truth be told, her neck didn’t hurt that much. Okay, not at all. But she kept rubbing it anyway, hoping for a sympathetic look. Or sympathetic oral sex.

“You! The guy from my party!”

The guy from her party frowned at her. Okay, so now she knew he had two expressions: a frown and a scowl. Progress! “First you crash my party, and now this? Oh, you’re gonna pay, pal. Through the nose.”

“We have to talk,” he said.

“Dude, I have to kick your ass! And then haul you to jail! Or kill you! I haven’t decided which! Am I shouting? It seems kind of loud in here.”

“Yes, you’re shouting. Now lie back down on the bed before you hurt yourself.” He tried to put his hands on her shoulders, and she shrugged him off.

“I’ll pass.” She rubbed her arms and grimaced. “I saw this TV special once on hotel rooms and how they, like, never wash the bedspreads, and let’s just say, my skin is crawling just standing on this carpet.”

He glared at her with his gorgeous blue eyes. He had retreated from the bed and was now standing directly in front of the door, so the first thing a visitor would smack into would be his back. Unless, of course, he punched them from behind, or whatever he did. She stifled a sigh as he said, “Let’s try to stay on track, shall we?”

“Okay. Let’s talk about how you creepily waited in my room and then clobbered me when I wasn’t looking.”

“I didn’t clobber you.”

“You did something!”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Pal: What. Did. You. Do.”

He said calmly, which was infuriating enough, “There’s a—a reboot spot, I suppose you could call it. It’s on the back of your neck. If someone applies just the right amount of pressure—”

“I’ll…what? Turn off?” She found the thought as appalling as she did horrifying. Nobody—nobody—at the O.S.F. had mentioned this little tidbit. “You turned me off?”

“More like shut you down for a minute. It’s painless and leaves no lasting damage.”

“I’ve got an off switch?”

“You’re shouting again,” he pointed out helpfully.

“Ugh! Ugh-ugh! And again, ugh!” She didn’t know what was worse, finding out she could be shut off by someone who knew what she was, or that he was so matter-of-fact about it. “Jesus Christ!”

“Let’s talk about the O.S.F.”

“Fuck a duck!”

“You lied,” he continued, inexorable as a Terminator.

That got her attention. She was a weird-ass cyborg freak with an off switch, but she was not a liar. “I never!”

“You said you didn’t work for them.”

“I don’t. It was just a one-time thing. I’m just here because—actually, it’s a really long story and there’s, like, no alcohol in this room, so I’m not gonna tell it. Not even if you say pretty please with sugar on top. So there!”

He blinked at her. She had the odd feeling that he was doing more than looking at her leggings and shirt. Then she realized: he was scanning her! Just like she did pretty much automatically these days; she recognized the look, penetrating and faraway at the same time. But that would mean—

She scanned him (Ha! See how he likes it!) and got exactly what she had gotten last time: his yummy measurements, but little else.

“You’d better not have X-ray vision, or if you do, you’d better not be using it.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I don’t get it.”

“Now, if only you had a ten-dollar bill for every time you’ve had to say that out loud.”

“Hey, there’s no need to be mean. Are you”—she hesitated—“like me?”

“No.”

“Oh, c’mon, seriously.”

“No one is like you, I think.”

“Okay, thanks, I think.”

“Am I cybernetically enhanced?” he prompted her.

“Who are you talking to?” she asked.

He frowned again. “The answer is yes.”

“But—” But the Boss had told her she was the only one. Gosh, the evilest man in the universe had lied to her, what a large fucking surprise. “But—” But if he was like her, that would mean—

“But when I scan you, I don’t pick up anything unusual.”

“That’s because I can block your scans.”

She digested that for a minute, then asked, “So, you work for the O.S.F.?”

His frown deepened and his eyes went all narrow and squinty. He was either constipated or super pissed.

“Okay, okay,” she said nervously. “Don’t have a stroke.”

“I never worked for Gregory Hamlin,” he said in a low voice that was nonetheless the most vehement tone she had ever heard. “I never worked for any of them. I was a slave.”

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Uh, who?”

“He’s about your height, slicked-back hair, everybody calls him the Boss?”

“Oh, him. Well, me neither. Yeah! We’re two lone wolves alone, er, together. Just you and me against the world, pal.” Now, why was that thought as horrifying as it was exciting?

“Mmmm. Now, I know better than anyone how infuriating it is to be turned into something new against your will, but you simply must stop killing the members of the Wagner team to get your point across.”

She gaped at him. Well, she felt like doing that anyway. He was wearing a crisp white shirt, a blue tie the exact color of his eyes, and black slacks. Ymmm. Oh, and probably shoes and socks, but frankly, she hadn’t been able to bring her gaze past his waist. He could be wearing pink rubber flip-flops for all she cared. “I’ve got to what to get my what and stop doing what?”

“This dumb act you’re putting on is really quite good, but it’s wasted on me. So—”

Finally, she got it. Normally, she wasn’t this slow, but it had been an odd day, and not even lunchtime yet. “I’m not the killer! You’re the killer!”

“Stop yelling.”

“I’m not yelling! It’s totally you! I just don’t know why,” she confessed. “But it doesn’t matter, because I’ve got to bring you in.” I guess. How does one bring in a suspect exactly? I know! I’ll wear him out having sex with him. No, wait, that’s a dumb idea. Or is it a great idea?

“I’m not the one murdering all those people,” he said impatiently. “You are.”

She laughed shortly. “Pal, I think I would know if I was going around killing people.”

“Look. I already told you, I understand. So if you’ll just—”

“Wait a minute. You understand? So…what? You’re going to arrest me and take me in, or whatever?”

“No. What jail could hold you, first of all?”

She buffed her nails on her shirt. “Well, that’s true.”

“And your position…it’s understandable. Not that I condone murder,” he said, fixing her with a frown, “or, not usually.”

“Well, color me comforted.”

“But I understand how you feel. I just think there are other ways to, ah, get your point across.”

“So, what d’you want to do?”

“I’ll take you into my custody, and there are people in my employ who can help you.”

“Uh-huh. And you’re doing this why?”

He blinked. “Because it’s wrong to go around killing people, as you put it. No matter what they did to deserve it.”

“Uh-huh. So I go with you and you help me and nobody else gets murdered and everybody’s happy except the Boss, who will probably swallow all his teeth when I call to tell him that I’m with—okay. I’m in.”