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least twenty people had tried to fill my shoes, and none of them had lasted two days before they had been removed from the job.
    The fact Dean Lewis hadn’t revoked my access to the files filled me with hope. I had been given strict orders to stay off the network and focus on recovering, but I no longer had any excuses to dodge my work.
    It was time to dive back into the fray. If I wanted to survive with my life intact, I needed to stay two steps ahead of everyone else. In the past, I had waited for Kenneth’s orders before taking action.
    Over the years, I had grown used to anticipating what Kenneth would do, although I seldom thought about why he chose the actions he did. My job was to do his dirty work, not criticize his actions.
    That needed to change.
    I began with emailing the dean about my recovery, claiming infrequent but moderate to severe headaches as a result of my captivity. Doctors had verified the severity of my concussions, which had been caused when Arthur Hasling had pounded me into the asphalt. Smacking into the side of the skyscraper hadn’t helped, either. Of course, the doctors had no idea I was one of the people responsible for the robbery and vandalism of the Ivory Tower, and I meant to keep it that way.
    It had been easy to blame Hasling for my broken ribs and other injuries.
    After updating the dean on the status of my health and asking if I could return to my studies within the next week or two, I informed him I was reviewing all of the entries in the database, claiming it would take two weeks for me to sort the mess out and add the missing information for the files. In closing, I mentioned I could possibly shorten the time to several days if I had access to a more comprehensive database.
    Before the Dawn of Dae, everyone had been registered in the government’s tracking system. The police had access to those records, as did the colleges scattered around the United States. I’d only seen the interface once when I had enrolled for my Bach studies, but one look was enough.
    If I gained access to the original database, I’d be able to learn about Terry Moore’s victims and identify how they related to Dean Lewis.
    The database wouldn’t help me deal with Kenneth Smith, but I’d figure something out. I always did.
    I sent the email, shut down my college laptop, and returned to my antiquated relic of a computer. Maybe it was slow, but it had everything I needed to do my job without getting caught.
    Until I ruined Kenneth Smith and Dean Lewis, I couldn’t afford to make a single mistake.

Chapter Four

    I worked until I did collapse into an exhausted stupor, and when I woke up, my head was pillowed on Rob’s lap. The dae’s attention was focused on his laptop, and deep lines furrowed his brow.
    Colby quivered on the coffee table between my laptop and Rob’s. Despite its lack of distinguishing features, I could somehow tell its attention was consumed by Rob’s efforts. While I wanted to discover what they were up to when they thought I was asleep, a yawn slipped out of me.
    Rob shifted beneath me and rested his hand on my shoulder. “Good morning.”
    “Morning. What did I miss?”
    “Dinner, breakfast, and lunch. It’s almost time for dinner again. You’re going to become an owl if you continue sleeping through the entire day, Miss Daegberht.”
    I stretched and wiggled my toes. Sometime after I had fallen asleep, Rob had covered me with my favorite blanket. Even without Kenneth’s drug fucking with me, I savored the way the plush material rubbed against my skin.
    The thought of the red fluid made me shiver. While I had worked without craving the impossible pleasures it offered, I tensed in anticipation of needing another hit.
    The memory of the drug’s high haunted me, and I wanted to experience the sensations again.
    I closed my eyes and sighed. I wanted another high, but I didn’t need it. The difference was subtle, but real enough for me. I could live with the nagging but