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where I’ve told you to stay, but you should understand this anyway: you’re the last thing she’s going to need where she’s going. A home tour is hard enough without holding on to the hope that you have friends. Nicodema is covering the story, and you can follow the photos online like everyone else.”
    It’s not just some empty hope, he thought, why the hell do you think I’m begging to go with her? But neither the venom nor the earnestness in it would do him any good against Li Zhao.
    Instead he said, “So what, I stay here and wrestle Pietro for the honor of scouting C-listers while I wait?”
    â€œYou shouldn’t sound like you’re above that,” Li Zhao said, and his stomach knotted even though it barely counted as an insult. “But no. I have another assignment for you.”
    â€œOh, lovely.” If Li Zhao thought she was going to distract him just by shifting his assignment, she was free to try.
    â€œYou’re assigned to Martine. You and Bo will be going to Norway to track their visit. He’ll keep you posted on travel plans. Be ready to move.”
    Somewhere beneath this nauseating reminder that LiZhao knew exactly what she was doing, Daniel thought about the last time he’d looked Martine in the eye—the moment after she’d learned what he was, and slapped the panic button strapped to her wrist to call her hired gun.
    â€œWell, uh, as far as I know, Li Zhao, Martine wants to kill me.”
    She’d leaned back from the desk already, checking out of the conversation—she never discussed, and if you thought she was, she was just giving you your orders in a way you could take—and the last thing he heard before the line went dead was, “Good thing you’re so good at disappearing in a crowd.”
    Ã— × × × × × ×
    Two days after the trips had been announced, Suyana went out for a night of clubbing with Martine to celebrate the venture, and they brought Grace, who Daniel figured had been asked by the UARC or Norway to keep the other two from eating each other alive.
    Not that you’d know it from the way they stood on the curb outside Martine’s apartment building in front of the photographers, waiting for a private car that was strategically five minutes late. Grace was telling a story, Suyana was smiling at appropriate moments, and Martine barked a laugh once around her fake cigarette. All three wore the black slim pants and heels that signaled wanting to be dressed up butnot wanting to look as if it was an effort. Grace and Martine wore sparkling tops; Suyana wore a white silk tank, and her scar gleamed under the awning lights. Grace’s and Martine’s bodyguards stood at a respectful distance, hands identically folded, looking like accessories.
    (The first time he met with Suyana, back when her face still softened when she saw him and his hand shook as he covered his camera, just from seeing her, he’d asked how she managed to avoid getting a bodyguard. Even Magnus must have been willing to set aside funds for one after what she’d been through. She said, “It’s important that people see I’m not afraid,” in the timbre that she used in chambers, and he’d smiled to imagine her reciting it obediently to Magnus, and when the cloud had crossed her face and she’d glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming, he’d told himself it didn’t matter. That was a year ago.)
    From where Daniel stood—not quite directly across the street, grabbing an espresso from a window walk-up, a tablet in hand like everyone in line behind him—he could see the group of teenage girls who’d gathered just close enough to them to be making bets about which one would go over and beg for a photo.
    Before they could, Grace called over, “Hello, girls, you all right?” and lifted her palm in a wave.
    â€œOh,” said the one