"Police! Nobody move!"
The shout was redundant. Nobody was moving.
We were a tableau of broken things frozen in the harsh fluorescent light of the CDC lab. My mother, the Avatar, pinned to the floor by Oryn. My father, the Architect, kneeling with his hands behind his head, looking bored. My husband, the Savage, bleeding onto the linoleum while guarding our son.
And me. The CEO of the wreckage.
Special Agent Miller lowered his rifle, scanning the room. His eyes lingered on Seraphina, then Marcus, then the sleeping boy.
"Mrs. Hale," Miller said, his voice tight with the stress of a night that wouldn't end. "Care to explain why the most wanted cyber-terrorist in the hemisphere is holding a gun on the Chairwoman of the Olympus Trust?"
"Citizen's arrest," Marcus said helpfully.
"Shut up
