Rebel Born (Secondborn #3)(36)

Kipson notices. “You’re no longer under my control, beast.”

“Did you think you could own me forever?” Cherno replies with a bitterness that makes me like him more.

“Did you remove your implant?”

“It melted.”

“How?”

“Puberty.”

“Puber—why didn’t you tell me? I’m your creator.”

“You’re not my creator,” Cherno retorts. “Do not sully the term. A true creator makes something where nothing exists. You simply found a way to fuse two types of beings together. That doesn’t make you a god. That makes you a scientist.”

“You’re angry with me so you decided to help her?” Betrayal weakens Crow’s voice. His fingers skim over his heart.

“It’s ironic,” Cherno answers. “In my time, I would’ve ripped out her throat if she’d dared to speak to me, but now, here, Roselle the Conqueror is exactly what this world deserves.”

“Roselle the Conqueror? You’re referring to her?” Agent Crow snorts. “She isn’t a goddess. She’s a secondborn nothing with an exquisite pedigree.” But his expression turns to grudging fascination. He doesn’t seem to believe a word he just said.

“She resembles the goddess I knew,” Cherno says.

“The goddess you knew? That’s not possible. I created you from a petrified egg.”

“You spliced. You manipulated. You did not create. And that wasn’t an egg. That was the form I took to await my next lifetime—a form imposed on me by my enemies.”

Agent Crow grips the balustrade with both hands and leans over it. “I made you!”

“No. I already existed! But you changed me. I will return the favor by unmaking you!”

“I’m a god!” Kipson roars.

The handsome figure above us thrusts his palm toward Cherno. The power of an invisible airship collides with the ancient being beside me. The dragon-man jerks off his feet and hurtles backward across the ballroom. He bounces a few times when he hits the ground before skidding to a stop on his back. Spectrum soldiers converge on him. For a moment, I can’t see Cherno, but in the next second, fire engulfs the Black-Os at the bottom of the dogpile. Cherno forces the burning legion off him. Back on his feet, he spews scorching flames from his mouth. More soldiers ignite.

My attention volleys to Crow. Kill him while he’s distracted.

The psychopath thrusts his palm out again. Cherno jolts from the floor, rising in midair. An invisible force sends him flying into the far wall. The stone behind him shatters. Huge cracks shoot in all directions. Cherno winces and moans.

Before I make it to the stairway, Black-Os jump me. I punch and kick. Overwhelming numbers pile on top of me. I’m wrestled to the floor. It’s excruciating just to breathe. Knees dig into my spine. Their weight crushes my lungs. When they finally pile off my torso and pull me to my feet, Cherno’s head hangs motionless. Four Spectrum soldiers hold him up. Others haul me back beneath the balcony. Kipson Crow—the god—peers down with a satisfied smirk.

“How are you alive?” I ask, tasting blood in my mouth.

“I’m not merely alive, Roselle,” he replies. “I’m replicating myself in everything. You didn’t think you actually killed me, did you?” He laughs and leans over the balcony’s ornate balustrade. “You can’t kill me. I am Spectrum.”

The young woman next to him places her elbows on the railing and with one hand cups her chin in her palm. “Kipson, why is this woman so familiar to me?” she asks, her innocent eyes absorbing me.

“You stole monikers from Census with her on a Sword military Base,” he replies.

She straightens in surprise. “I did?” Her smile’s impish.

“Yes.” Crow’s indulgent grin spreads. “You helped to blow up the vault and flood the Census Base. Do you remember that?”

“And you made me a new body and reconstructed my mind, didn’t you?” she replies, like a child reciting a story she’d heard thousands of times.

“I did.” He taps her nose with this fingertip.

“And you breathed life back into me, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“But I don’t remember any of that.” Her pout is seductive.

“Maybe one day you will. I mapped the undamaged portion of your original mind.” He caresses the hair near her temple with the backs of his fingers. “It may still form the connections you need to remember your past.”

“But she knew me?” Flannigan turns to face me again.

“She’s the one who got you killed.”

“Did you get me killed?” Flannigan 2.0 asks me.

I shiver. “The Flannigan I knew,” I reply, “would never ask that question. She was cunning and brilliant. She went into those underground tunnels to destroy the thing you’re standing next to and others like him. She killed herself rather than be taken alive by them. So, no. I didn’t get you killed. Flannigan was a leader. You’re just a pathetic, doe-eyed copy of her.”

Apparently I hurt her feelings. Her bottom lip starts to tremble, and her eyes well with tears.

Kipson Crow sneers, just like his old body would’ve, but without the steel teeth or the kill tallies, he isn’t as scary. “Don’t listen to her, Flannigan. She’s nothing. You and I are going to pay a visit to Marius, Claudia, and the rest of the Census High Council in Virtues. They believe they still have the right to exist. They’re wrong. When we return, Roselle’s little technician friend, Ransom Winterstrom, will show me exactly how he created the device he implanted in Roselle’s brain. Then he and I are going to dissect her together. Won’t that be fun, Roselle?”