He woke up in his room. It was dark outside his tiny window, and his stomach cramped with hunger. When he sat up, though, the floor tilted, and the idea of eating was forgotten in his hurry to lie back down.
For a while, he let grief overwhelm him. Lexa was dead. He'd never see her smile again. She'd never sneak into his bed in the middle of the night after a nightmare. No more sparring practice or stealing cookies or ganging up on Doc in the training room.
Gone. She was gone forever.
An inhuman cry wrenched itself free from his lungs. Gone. She was gone. Half of his heart had been torn out and no one cared. Not one frakking soul. How he hated this place and everyone in it. Dr. Martine said he was sorry, but what good did that do? Nothing.
His only choices were to end his life or run. So what if Dr. Martine said he needed to pretend, to be compliant for some greater purpose. He had no greater purpose without his best friend. Part of his soul was dead-and he believed he had a soul. Loving Lexa had taught him that. He wasn't a thing to be owned. He was alive, and he loved. That made him more human than the people who kept him locked away. He'd be free, one way or another.
Quinn stood, then rested a hand on his desk. Once the wave of dizziness passed, he went to the door. It was locked. Of course it was. That left only one way out.
He looked around the room, then laughed darkly. There wasn't a single cord, sharp object, or means of electrocution in his room. They'd even taken his sheets while he was with Dr. Drummond. Maybe they understood his thought processes better than he'd assumed. Didn't matter-this would be over one way or another.
Someday, Piers and Maren would get lax. He could be patient-watch, wait, and gather enough currency to run. Someday, he'd have an opportunity to escape into the city. He didn't give two shasts about Dr. Martine's plans.
He'd run the second they became complacent.
That thought sustained him through a very long night. Finally, just after dawn, Doc came with some toast and weak tea. "You ready to behave?"
"Depends," Quinn muttered.
"What if I told you something that might make it easier?" Doc said.
He reached for the toast, and his stomach let out a loud rumble. It didn't know he was falling apart inside. "Depends."
"Funny," Doc said, although his tone was carefully neutral. "It seems there was a problem in the prep room where they were keeping Lexa for the brain mapping."
Quinn's heart let out a painful thump. "What?"
"Strangest thing?no one's entirely sure how she did it. But?" A smile spread across Doc's craggy face. "Lexa escaped. Piers is furious." Now he laughed a little. "She avoided every security camera on the grounds. It's like she disappeared."
"She did?" He couldn't believe it. No, wait, of course he could. "She's alive?"
"I can't say for sure, but security teams were dispatched a few hours ago, and there's no sign of her."
Doc left him with his breakfast. Where had Lexa gone? Would she come back? No, he didn't want her to come back. It wasn't safe here. He'd do what he planned-he'd wait and escape on his own. And once he did, he'd find her. Together, they'd bring Precipice to its knees. They'd free their artificial brothers and sisters. And then? A cold, hard core of righteous anger filled him.