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thinking hard. Though he may deny it, Alexei Petriv was organized crime. The Tsarist Consortium claimed to offer another option to One Gov’s rule, but many said they weren’t much better than thugs. They’d even tried running in the last global free-election two years ago, but lost—though not by much, if I recalled. They ran on a platform of change and wanting to ease some of One Gov’s more restrictive mandates. They asked questions like: Why should we continue to live as if we were still in the Dark Times, with the end of days upon us? Did One Gov really need to regulate our lives so carefully now that we had Renew treatments, space travel, and two nearly empty planets open for colonization? Many people agreed and started wondering the same things themselves. Whatever Petriv ultimately wanted, I suspected I wouldn’t be comfortable with it.
    When I looked up, Petriv was watching me. A half smile played on his lips. Gods only knew what the man was thinking. His leg shifted, touching mine as if in personal challenge. My eyes narrowed while I kept my leg where it was. No way was I backing down or making it seem like I was afraid of him.
    “You have one hour to convince me.” I crossed my arms over my chest and meant business, gut feeling be damned. I didn’t get into bed with gangsters. “If I decide I want no part of this, I’d still like the information you gathered on my mother. I appreciate the measures you took to get me out of yesterday’s situation, but I need to make up my own mind about what I want to do about her. I promise I won’t say anything about how I got the information.”
    “Done. I will provide whatever assistance you need.”
    He agreed so readily to something I thought he’d scoff at, I suspected I set my price too low. “No offense, but I’m not in a hurry to jump down the rabbit hole just yet.”
    “None taken. However, allow me to point out that once you made Mr. Pennyworth’s acquaintance, you’d already started your descent.”
    “One hour,” I said instead.
    “Alright. One hour.”
    As if on cue, the flight-limo descended much like a helicon—hovering and landing with a gentle thud as it connected with the ground. I risked a look through the tinted window. We’d landed curbside in a premium parking space. Not that the pilot had much traffic to fight given the widespread use of the Y-Line. I suspected Petriv never had problems getting anything he wanted, parking included.
    I reached for the door and found that it slid open before I touched it. A blond chain-breaker stood there, along with another man I hadn’t seen before, made from the same mold except with sandy brown hair. Petriv slid out first, brushing by in a wave of musky cologne that went straight to my head. I fought not to gasp at how good he smelled. After the smart-matter incident with Mr. Pennyworth, I knew how easily people could be manipulated with scent.
    Petriv murmured something in Russian to the chain-breaker, then held out a hand to me. “Come along, Ms. Sevigny. If we only have an hour, let’s make it count.”
    I wanted to slap aside his hand, but I’d look childish. Instead, I smiled and placed my hand in his. He pulled me to my feet with unsurprising strength. Worse, I couldn’t stop myself from reacting to him, regardless of how loaded he might be with t-mods or what his MH Factor was. I knew what was happening. I’d lived this before, five years ago, driven by what I believed was love and that feeling in my gut. Dante had been good-looking, charming, and had swept me off my feet. He’d also had a wide enough rebellious streak that even my unconventional family raised an eyebrow. Alexei Petriv was all that and more, amped up to a level I couldn’t even begin to calculate. I hadn’t resisted Dante then and didn’t know if I could resist Petriv now, even with Roy in my life. But at least I could be smarter about it—maybe.
    “This way, Ms. Sevigny,” he said, tucking my arm in his.
    The