Steiner got a message to Tabby the following morning. Two of her bees had been successful. She was in Elias's workshop finishing another mechanimal commission when the note arrived. Her eyes skimmed its contents before she crumpled it in her fist.

Two more deaths, bringing her total to five. She tossed the note in the forge, watching it burst into flames before returning to her bench. Elias shuffled over shortly and slapped the Chroma Times on the table beside her. "King Alistar is finally on his way out."

"Hmm..." She frowned, skimming the headline and story beneath. "And with it, Prince Edwin's ascension," she said, voicing the conclusion for him. Truthfully, she didn't care who sat on the throne. She wasn't a die-hard Technologist like Elias. Her gaze settled on the black and white image. Prince Edwin shaking hands with dignitaries from Ferrum.

A clean shaven face smiled up at her, with eyes that crinkled along the edges, and hair neatly combed back. He graced the papers more and more these days. There was something warm and familiar about him, about his expression, but more importantly, his eyes. Eyes were the first thing she noticed about a person. When forced to look at masked faces so often, it happened.

Elias grumbled. "Crackdown on prism tech will only get worse. Edwin won't even allow permits to continue. He'll want to monopolize the tech for the military and keep it from the rest of us." The military. Something nagged at the back of her mind, there and gone. "At least King Alistar has been lenient," he huffed.

She barked a laugh. "King Alistar? Lenient? He's been anything but." The memory of the mech-cat, smashed to bits, its prism rolling into the gutter, flashed in her mind.

"Well, he could be worse."

She shook her head, eyes darting over the article again. "Prince Edwin will become king. When he does, he'll use prism tech to crush Candela's rebel forces. Use it to conquer Ipsum and Ferrum."

The door chime sounded, followed by Elias's deep sigh. "Yes, well..." He shook his head before turning away to greet the incoming customers.

She pushed the black and white pages out of sight and returned to her work. At the moment, she didn't care who sat on the damn throne. She had more pressing matters. Especially one in the form of a powerful, stubborn Spect, who also happened to be her master for a few more months, and the largest pain in her arse. Midnight. What was she supposed to do about him? They hadn't spoken, hadn't crossed paths, and she was absolutely certain he was still pissed.

She never expected to make a friend out of him, but she certainly didn't want him as an enemy. If she told him about Prince Albert, he would interfere, breathing down her neck, ensuring she got the job done. But that was the thing. She had no intention of killing Albert Whitlock. None.

Okay, if she failed to defeat the Spectrum, then yes, she'd need a plan. And fast. But she was banking on success. If anything, this kill made her more desperate to succeed. She needed to get the remaining council names. Desperately.

She sighed. By tomorrow night, though, she'd need something. She couldn't appear for her report at the Temple empty-handed. The Council would expect progress.

She could spend tomorrow tracking Albert Whitlock, but she'd rather visit East End's manufactories. Waste was her next target. She sighed, her chest deflating in a smooth motion as she hunched further over her workbench. Time to call in a favor from Steiner. Suppressing a snort, she shoved a cog into place harder than necessary. Steiner's help? The idea disgusted her—seeing his ego inflate. It also meant she'd have to tell him about her mark. Revealing information like this went against everything she knew. But the alternative wasn't much better.

She sighed, propping her chin on her hand, staring blankly at her workbench. What choice did she have? She couldn't be in two places at once.

***

She met Midnight at her safehouse and found him upstairs. She wasn't sure what mood he'd be in, considering how good he was at disguising them. He glanced at her entry but said nothing. The fact that he hadn't attacked her at the front door was a good sign...or a very bad one. He was busy setting up. She looked over their surroundings, taking note of anything that had moved. Targets were assembled at the far side of the floor. Throwing knives. It had been a while. She'd grown sloppy, using prism daggers to do her work. Would he notice? She chewed on the inside of her cheek.

When he turned, his expression was emotionless. Yes, definitely still pissed. She opened her mouth, ready with an apology, but he didn't give her the chance. "Our practice will be short today. I've been called in."

She hesitated. "By the Spectrum?"

"No, by my mother. Who do you think?" He laid an array of knives out on the table. Pissed.

"For what?"

"A full mask has gone missing. They've called a meeting later this afternoon. Just a few of us."

She stopped short. "Oh." Her heart thumped.

He shrugged. "It happens. He probably left the city on buisness and forgot to say something about it."

Forgot? Did he expect her to believe that? She licked her lips. "Which full mask?"

"Doesn't matter. Let's get started." He nodded toward the table and picked up a knife. She placed herself beside him, adjusting her stance, gauging the target. He threw the first and struck the bullseye, glancing at her before picking up another. Right before he threw, he hesitated.

"Well?" She arched a brow at him. "Clearly you've got more to say."

His jaw flexed. He pressed the tip of the blade against his finger, drawing a prick of blood. She watched it ooze around the blade. "Our relationship is like this knife," he mused. "Sharp on both edges. I can just as easily keep information from you as you can me."

There it was. She sighed. "I'm not going to apologize for arguing with you, if that's what you're after. But..." She exhaled, steeling her nerves, deciding on honesty. "You were right. I am just an apprentice. To be frank, I was also surprised the Council gave me a high-profile assignment." She chomped down on her tongue to stop from saying everything else she wanted, that she wished he had higher confidence in her abilities.

"I'm glad you see it."

"I do. But I've decided not to tell you anyway."

A vein in his neck ticked. "Tabby—"

"Listen, Midnight." She met his flinty gaze. "I may be an apprentice, but like you said, I can't simply coast to the finish line. I'll be twenty-five soon. If you spoon-feed me, I'll fail the moment I'm out on my own. I need to do this. I need to prove that I'm capable."

"And if I don't think you're capable? If I don't think you can do this alone?"

She clenched her jaw and schooled her features, even though she wanted to scream, or stab him with the knife in her hand. Instead, she shrugged. "Then I'll fail. The Spectrum will sweep the floor clean of me. You'll be free of an apprentice a whole two months early. Lucky you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, finally showing a shred of frustration. "If that happens, you'll deserve it. But I will have failed you."

"No, I will have failed me. And quit acting as if you care about my death."

"I never said that I cared." He turned back to the target, readying his arm.

"Right. But you will have to find someone new to fuck."

"I'm not going to answer that."

"Because I'm irreplaceable?" She smirked.

He paid her a sidelong glance. "Are you ready to practice, or not?"

"Fine. Yes, let's practice." And perhaps do other things. She didn't let her mind drift to what might be waiting at the end.

She threw her first knife. It missed the bullseye by a hair. The only sign of annoyance to cross Midnight's face was the flexing of his jaw as he pretended not to notice. Clenching her teeth, she threw four more in rapid succession. These struck true, gathering about the center, feeding her smugness. This time, she didn't glance at him.

His aim was perfect every time. Throughout their practice, she stole several glances at him. It was impressive—the ease in which he lifted and threw, all in one fluid motion. She also made the mistake of lingering over his muscled arms and chest, which she shouldn't have done because it made her insides clench with want. If he ever suspected any hint of physical attraction on her end, he would shut her down as quickly as a mechanical with the turn of a key. It was an absolute danger.

They continued like this for close to an hour in complete silence. It did nothing for his temper, which surprised her. He was still irked. She knew it because when the clock approached half past three he turned. "Pants off. Get on your knees."

A shiver raced up her spine but her grin turned wicked. "I thought you'd never ask." She turned to him, overly smug, and tossed her knife into the air. He caught it and flung it at the target without taking his eyes off her. She knew that if she looked, it would be dead center.

"Do you want this or not?" He kept his voice even.

"Oh, I do." She complied.

He came up behind her, pushing her forward on all fours. Desperate anticipation rippled through her muscles, sending her pulse into a gallop. She braced her arms as he pulled her to him.

His fingers brushed her skin, sliding down the swell of her, gentle, almost a caress. A hint of what it would be like were he capable of affection. And then he was inside her. She lost it, letting go completely. It was easier than asking questions. Easier than thinking at all, really.

When he climaxed, he cried out with a groan, sending ripples of satisfaction deep into her core. If nothing else, at least she made him come. But aside from that one slip up, the sound of his voice ringing with pleasure, he held himself under lock and key. She wasn't as skilled in that regard, but she also didn't care if he knew how much she enjoyed it. So she let her sounds come more freely.

He didn't linger after they finished. She didn't expect him to. But she was still faced with the same emptiness as he took his leave. She thought about the things she had done the night before and the fear she'd confronted when considering what Midnight might have done in Beast's place. It only angered her.

***

She found Steiner well after dark. They sat in his study discussing the two deaths he'd reported earlier. Ray Penn and Glen Costigan were both followed and nearly killed when their bees registered the danger and struck. He assured her that the Spect bodies had been disposed of adequately. Both Spects were half masks...like her. Apprentices. Perhaps even from her old cohort. How many of them would be left when this was all over?

Steiner pulled the metallic bodies of the bees from a drawer in his desk, cradling them. With their stingers lodged in their victims, they had deactivated. Their prisms were drained, too. "Will they be useful anymore?"

She took them, placing them carefully in her satchel. "They're not dead in the way you think. I can outfit them with new stingers, another dose of poison, charge them up, and give them back."

Just in case the Spectrum assigned new assassins to their marks.

He nodded. "Not sure how long it will take before they notice so many Spects missing."

"Perhaps they already have," she said, telling him of Midnight's getting called in for a special meeting.

"Hm...well, I shouldn't be surprised. All the more reason to act quickly. They might start replacing the Council before we've eliminated them."

That'd been her fear too, though Steiner had assured her that as long as she eliminated the Council, the Spectrum would crumble. She wasn't sure how well she could trust his optimism. She didn't want this to become a never ending goal she chased until there were no Spects left.

"We've got another problem," she said, comfortably propping her boots on the corner of his desk, slouching lower in her chair. He scowled from the other side but said nothing. "Prince Albert. How well do you know him?"

He tilted his head. "What makes you think I know him at all?"

She snorted, "I don't have time for your games, Steiner."

Of course he knew him. Prince Albert was the unofficial head of the Technologist movement. The man behind the curtain. Steiner was probably his right-hand.

"Fine." He shrugged. "I know him a little. What does it matter?"

"It matters. There's a hefty price on his head."

He froze. "You don't mean...?" His jaw dropped and he sputtered. "The Spectrum? Really?" It was the effect she was going for and the reaction she expected.

"He's been marked. Assigned to me, no less." She said it as calmly as any other everyday topic of conversation. Steiner turned rigid and went to his liquor cabinet. She studied his back as he poured two drinks.

"Thanks." She took the offering and tossed it back, savoring the piney taste as the gin rushed over her tongue.

"How long does he have?"

"Initially? Three weeks. I bartered for four."

"How generous of you."

"Indeed. But I did it for me, not him." She set the empty glass on the desk, pulling her boots away to sit upright. "You know what this means..."

They both did. To save face with the Spectrum, she'd have to split her time between stalking Spects and stalking Prince Albert. They would expect regular updates on her progress. "I'll need to fool them. If I can get enough information on Albert, it will look like I'm doing a good job. That will allow me to focus on Kour, Saunders, and Bates."

He nodded. "When do you next report?"

Friday. Always Friday. But he wouldn't necessarily know that. "Tomorrow night."

He swallowed. "I can talk to Albert—"

"No." She shook her head. "He cannot know. Don't be ridiculous. You tell him and I'll kill him out of spite, and kill you for being an absolute dunce."

Steiner clenched his jaw, leaning back in his chair. "Fine. What do you suggest then?"

"Whatever you can give, cough it up. Otherwise I'll have to tail him until the Spectrum discovers my disloyalty. And if he leaves the city? Then we're in a right mess. The Spectrum will expect me to follow. I won't be able to work on the Council names if that happens. He must remain in Chroma."

She wasn't sure how long they could play this game. The longer the better. Fighting for her life was only going to complicate matters.

They sat for another hour discussing Prince Albert. Steiner knew a great deal more than she anticipated. He listed the fancy drinking establishments Albert frequented in secret. The gentlemen's club he visited on the weekends. Even the mistress he kept from his wife. Corinne Howlett. "Please do not bring her into this," Steiner added, holding up a hand.

Her immense pleasure was too obvious. It would be almost...fun, toying with a woman connected to such a powerful man. The shadows within her purred, singing of the power she might unlock. "Howlett will be a better source of information," she mused. "Think of all the secrets he whispers when he's crawling inside her."

"Please, Tabby." Steiner's brows pulled together. Obvious regret. He shouldn't have mentioned her. "She's a good woman. She doesn't deserve to be in the middle of this. Leave her alone."

"All right." It was a lie. She'd utilize Howlett if and when she needed to. "So that's it then? That's everything?" She stood.

"All that I know. I'll try and gather more, now that I know it's important."

"Good." She turned on her heel and left.

He'd given her enough to get started. The Spectrum would buy it. That left her free to track down Kour. If all went well, she'd face five full masks tomorrow night instead of seven.