It was creeping closer and closer to nine o’clock, but neither Silas nor Phoebe had returned.

“Maybe they ran into each other at headquarters,” Celia suggested.

Rosalind leaned her shoulder against the wall, blowing her breath out in an opaque puP. One streetlamp stood a few feet away. With the dark, they felt comfortable enough to hover outside the safe house, surveilling the street corner for the 1rst glimpse of either Silas’s or Phoebe’s return. Thus far, Rosalind had only seen soldiers hurrying past in a rush to get somewhere. Which really felt like a bad sign.

“And then sat down for a leisurely cup of tea?” Rosalind said. “It shouldn’t be taking them this long.”

Celia had little to say in response. She mimicked Rosalind’s shoulder lean against the wall, then turned her attention back to the street corner. The safe house was surrounded by factories and redbrick buildings and barbed-wire barriers. Zhabei was already starting to look like a war zone, and the Chinese soldiers stationed out and about only added to the atmosphere. Most came from the 19th Route Army. Just as Rosalind was wringing at her long sleeve again, another cluster of them hurried by, surely freezing in their thin uniforms. The temperature had only dropped since sundown.

“They look so young,” Celia whispered.

Rosalind remained quiet. The front page of the newspaper that Celia had been reading from earlier said the 19th Route Army had brought over thirty thousand men into the city. To amass numbers that large, one really could not be picky. Some in the group didn’t even hold weapons. Their uniforms were

faded of color after too many washes. Their caps were wrinkled, shoes bearing holes.

“Base to Fortune. Come in, Fortune.”

Rosalind rolled her eyes at once, pressing her earpiece to activate the microphone. “Orion, this is a closed radio line. You don’t need to use code names.”

“Listen, I don’t remember anything about being an operative. Go easy on me.”

His voice was accompanied by constant static. Celia had 1nally 1xed the earpieces—and by 1xed, that meant they worked but not very well.

“We’re ten minutes to nine o’clock,” Orion went on. He was inside the safe house, so he could have easily stepped out to communicate, but the novelty of using earpieces was clearly giving him amusement. “Alisa asks what our plan is.”

“We can’t get in without Silas,” Celia said, pressing her own microphone. The earpieces were all connected on one line. The moment anyone spoke, everyone else could hear it. “What are we going to do except wait?”

Rosalind crossed her arms tighter. She had released her earpiece, so only her sister heard her when she asked: “You don’t think they got caught or anything?”

Out of everyone, Celia was the most anxious about this turn of events, but she didn’t show it. The only reason Rosalind could tell was because she knew her sister. She could read the more minute movements: the constant tension in her 1ngers as she clenched and unclenched her 1sts, the turn of her head left and right every few seconds to take in her surroundings. Even before Rosalind suggested coming onto the street to watch the corner, Celia had exhibited the same behavior inside the safe house, which told her Celia wasn’t watching for danger creeping up on her; rather, she was glancing for Oliver out of habit. Rosalind and Celia may as well start taking turns on whose mission partner went missing.

“Caught for what?” Celia asked lowly. “They’re Nationalists. The only people who can catch them are their own. And both Silas and Phoebe belong to that side… right?”

“Well, yes,” Rosalind said. “But what if Communist covert got to them?”

Reluctantly, Celia had agreed to Alisa’s plan. She had made the call to central command, reported that Oliver’s status was undetermined and Orion remained with his mother. Without saying it outright, she had implied that Lady Hong was in the city, so the Communist covert branch must have put their feelers out at once.

“I doubt it,” Celia said. “Bigger 1sh to fry, after all.” Then, with a wince: “Bigger 1ghts to die in.”

The night fell quiet. Faintly, the clouds rumbled with the hum of what sounded like an airplane before the noise faded away. Though Rosalind lifted her head to inspect the stars, she couldn’t see anything immediately concerning.

“You did the right thing, you know.”

“I do know,” Celia replied. She exhaled, running her hand through a lock of hair and pulling it straight. “Oliver would hate it, but Oliver isn’t here.”

He wasn’t. But in an hour, he would be, and then they would have every element they needed to combat Lady Hong. Perhaps they couldn’t take down a whole empire, but with seven agents, they could surely take down one major threat.

“He’ll be 1ne,” Rosalind assured her. She pushed oP the wall. “I promise.”

Celia’s eyes tracked her movement, sharp and observant. You cannot possibly promise that, her gaze seemed to say. Still, Rosalind needed to make the promise, if not to fool her sister, then to fool the very universe into bending to her will. She secured her hair band, prodding around her skull to make sure each of her pins was in place. Other than Rosalind’s tight updo and Celia’s loose plaits, they looked more like twins in this moment than they ever had. They were both dressed like fugitives in the clothes Rosalind had acquired earlier in the day: dark trousers and thick jackets instead of society-appropriate qipao. Once they neared the facility, cloths would go over their faces to conceal their identities.

“It’s me again,” Orion’s voice sounded into Rosalind’s ear.

Rosalind pressed down. “All right, Huntsman. Have your fun. What is it?” “Are you hungry?”

“What?”

“I found sweets. Are you hungry?” “Not really, but—”

A Aare of headlights came around the corner. At once, Rosalind and Celia perked to attention, waiting to see who was coming.

“They’re here!” Celia announced into her earpiece. “Come down now!” “Wait,” Rosalind said quietly. The car stopped. When the door opened, it

was only Silas.

“Sorry, sorry,” Silas rushed to say, hurrying around the front. “I didn’t realize it would take so long to con1rm the mission with headquarters. Everything is ready. Let’s go.”

The plan was still in place. The military facility was also located in Zhabei, a short drive farther out west. Silas would be entering through the Nationalists’ control tower as an operative taking part in a capture mission. Rosalind, Celia, Alisa, and Orion needed to 1nd their way through the outer facility on their own after being dropped oP somewhere along the perimeter. When Silas gave the signal that the guards were distracted by Priest’s eventual entrance, they would be breaking into the inner facility and beelining straight for Oliver.

“Where’s Phoebe?” Rosalind demanded. She was supposed to be the getaway watch. The one waiting on the outside to make sure they had a clear exit route.

Silas frowned. “What do you mean? I thought she left with you.”

Alisa and Orion emerged from the safe house. In their black clothing, they blended right into the dark, their faces obscured already.

“Here,” Alisa whispered, squeezing between Rosalind and Celia, holding two lengths of fabric. Celia took hers. Rosalind, momentarily, was still puzzled, trying to process what Silas meant.

“You didn’t see her at headquarters?” “Phoebe? Why would she be at headquarters?”

Something felt oP. Rosalind couldn’t parse why. Where else could Phoebe have gone? It was possible they had simply missed each other. Kuomintang headquarters was relatively large. But Phoebe had known that Silas was there… so surely she would have looked for him once she arrived?

“We need to go,” Celia prompted. “Otherwise we’re going to miss our cue.”

Rosalind’s panic built slowly, then shot to its peak all at once. Suddenly she was frantic—what if Phoebe was in trouble? What if she hadn’t even made it to headquarters?

Orion touched her elbow. “This rescue will take less than an hour,” he said quietly, just to her. “If my sister is in trouble, we can help her afterward. The most likely culprit is my mother, and it doesn’t sound like she would hurt her.”

“Hold on,” Silas cut in, overhearing Orion’s remark. “What happened to Feiyi?”

“We don’t know,” Rosalind snapped. “Maybe if you were less concerned

about catching Priest, you would have seen her reporting to headquarters. Lady Hong is in the city. Her soldiers tried to go after Phoebe.”

“All right, darling.” Orion got ahold of her arms at once, running his hands up and down in a soothing motion. “In the car.”

Silas blinked. Once. Twice. He was entirely unfazed by Rosalind losing her temper on him. There was no trace of oPense in his expression—there was only shock and terror. Maybe he knew that there was no need for him to react in the wrong anyway. It was Rosalind who had left her. Rosalind who had hurried to get back to the safe house, abandoning Phoebe to Aee on her own.

“You mean to say her mother came after her?” “I mean to say she probably has her.”

“But… but how…?”

Celia slapped her hands upon the surface of the vehicle. The sound echoed into the night, as harsh as the gust of wind that followed.

“First we get the sibling she wants to siphon for blood,” Celia said. “Then we get the sibling whose last-known location we have. Let’s go!”

She was right. They had to move, because arguing was only a waste of time. Each of them piled into the car, letting Silas slide back into the driver’s seat, his eyes still wide with disbelief. Alisa leaned forward, oPering one of the earpieces.

“Do you need this?” Alisa asked.

Silas shook his head. “It’ll look far too suspicious. I’ll activate a facility-wide alarm for your signal. When we’re all 1nished, I will meet you here at the safe house.”

Alisa nodded. As did Celia and Orion. Rosalind must have remained silent for too long because Alisa took it upon herself to thud Rosalind’s leg, drawing an “Ow!”

“Understood,” Rosalind muttered. “In and out. Let’s move fast.”

Silas’s eyes lifted to the rearview mirror, meeting hers. He nodded to acknowledge her instruction, but there was something uncertain about the gesture. When he pressed on the accelerator, Rosalind’s stomach dipped, like it had been left behind on the curbside.

God. She had a damn bad feeling about this.

Phoebe wiped the tears from her cheeks, but new ones replaced them at once, ice-cold against her face in the wind. She allowed herself the rickshaw ride to cry. After that, as soon as she arrived, she needed to stop.

“What was that?” she had demanded of her mother. The moment she’d shoved the curtain away, the laboratory had seemed to grow a hundred sizes with the way her voice echoed. “Why was Silas here?”

She had waited for the front entrance to slam shut, for that echo to travel throughout the manor. She had waited until he left the premises, or who knew what he would do if he witnessed her presence there. Her mother had told her to hide on purpose. She almost seemed to relish Phoebe’s shock, a knowingness playing in her manner as if the answer to her question should be obvious.

“Why do you think?” her mother replied. “He’s working with me. Getting me what I need.”

And what she needed was Oliver’s blood. Lady Hong wouldn’t even need to compete with their rescue mission tonight—she already had someone on the inside, someone among the Nationalists who could knock Oliver out in the holding cells and siphon the blood from him. Christ. Phoebe felt like she was going to be sick, like she was going to hurl her guts all over the shiny Aoor of her mother’s research laboratory.

“What is he getting out of this?” Phoebe asked. Her voice turned shrill. “Why would he help you?”

Lady Hong paused. Surveyed her demeanor. “That’s for you to ask him. I am sure you can guess, though. He determined that it was worthwhile. You may like to learn from him, Feiyi.”

Phoebe wanted to scream at Silas. Project her words loud enough to travel through the gardens and onto the streets, reach him while he was getting into his

car and driving oP. There is nothing worth this. Is this why she released Orion so easily? Because of you? Because you offered another promised victim?

Phoebe had taken a step toward the door. Then another—each thud deliberate, waiting for the consequences that were to follow. All these pieces had been set up at the facility for the break-in, and almost none were necessary. They had practically lost already. There was nothing more for Phoebe to do except slide the last player into place, let Priest make her appearance and get Oliver out.

“I’m going to go,” Phoebe stated. “Are you going to stop me?”

Lady Hong gave her a pointed look. “You’re free to leave if you wish, Feiyi. I’m not a tyrant. I’m just your mother.” She turned around. Her work was calling for her attention again. “But you will come back. I promise you will.”

Now Phoebe practically tumbled oP the rickshaw, paying the runner before giving her face one last scrub to clear the tears. The safe house was dark. The hour hovered around a quarter past nine, which meant she was too late. They had already left for the facility.

Phoebe sniPed hard. She barged up the stairs, rammed her shoulder through the door into the empty safe house. She had cried enough. Phoebe Hong had no place here anymore. She needed her hands still and her aim precise. She needed her heart slow and her pulse steady, nothing in her way when she leveled her riAe. With haste, Phoebe plunged her hand into the bag that had been left by the door and took out the last remaining set of dark clothes, changing in a blur. Just before she was set to leave the safe house, she caught sight of the earpiece that had been left on the table.

She put the wire in. Tapped it hard, hearing only static. She wouldn’t be able to reach the others until she was close enough in range. Wouldn’t be able to warn them about the traitor in their midst.

Her heart was sawed in two. She couldn’t comprehend any of this.

“Tā mā de,” she muttered under her breath. Then, because that wasn’t satisfying enough, she pushed out the door and screamed an utterly incoherent noise. “You want me? Fine! Fine!”

Priest dove back into the night.