The time I spend at my grandmother's is the first time I've ever spent with her without wanting to stab her. Or myself. She keeps to herself and if we do find ourselves in the same room, she looks drained and slips away as soon as possible.

If it were Mason, not knowing what had caused this change in behavior would drive him insane. He's be interrogating her every second he could. But I don't care much about the why, only that I make it through the visit without a single verbal lashing or a new thing to hate about myself.

The day I'm set to return to the island, Mason picks me up in a jeep he rented from base and takes me deep into the city for dinner.

I think, for a moment, even Mason drops his guard and fools himself into thinking we're just two people out for a night on the town. We're not a Hunter and a Protector. We're not about to wage war against the Headmistress Ishani Singh. We're not anything but us.

We eat dinner, and walk through a park, and watch the city lights turn on around us as we huddle into each other.

Neither of us says anything about how physical we're being with each other. Neither of us dares asks if this changes things between us. Right now, the only thing that matters is us here together.

"Mason," I say, as we sit in front of a fountain lit up in purple. "What's going to happen if she catches me?"

He closes his eyes like he's been expecting this question. "Aug-." He shakes his head. "That's not going to happen," he promises.

"You can't be certain. What if, Mason?"

"Then, I'll kill her."

I start to snort, but he looks at me.

His jaw locks, eyes dark and narrow.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "You're serious?"

He squeezes my hand. "Nothing's going to happen to you," he says, and this time, I believe his promise.

I drop my head to his shoulder. "Don't be stupid," I whisper.

His arm coils around me and he pulls me closer.

It's not like we're going to make it out of this alive. I've already got it in my head that Amari will go first, and Sasha will follow her. For the first few months after they're both gone, Mason will throw himself into every fight he can to get some of the grief out of him. He's a good fighter, so he'll survive them all until he's healed a little bit. But he's so determined to save everyone that he'll eventually lose himself.

And being a healer will mean nothing in the end, because I won't be able to save the only one that really matters.

I used to have nightmares of Mason getting scratched or bitten. We'd both be crying, but I would follow protocol, and I'd put him down, like I've been trained to do. But now, I've been having nightmares of Mason starting a war with my mother. She'll tell me to kill him in cold blood... and I wouldn't know if I could do it.

"Thinking about food again?" Mason asks, rubbing the worried crease from my eyebrows with his thumb.

"I should go," I say. I pat my pocket where the phone is. "I've got a mission." I stand, because if I don't, I won't be able to leave.

Mason's on his feet with me in seconds, grabbing my hand. "Tarak."

I turn back to him, my heart racing. "Mason?"

He looks down at our joined hands, his thumb running over my knuckles. "Maybe... maybe this isn't a good idea. Maybe you shouldn't go. I can figure something else out."

"How many people will get hurt because of her in the time it takes you to find another way?"

Mason ducks his head, sucking in his trembling lips. "Tarak, I don't want you to do this." He lifts his eyes to mine, peering through his eye lashes. "Don't do this."

Something softens in me that I didn't know was tense. I lift my hand to his face and he leans into it. I knew he didn't want me in danger, but knowing he'd rather protect me over saving the world is a little nice. But I push the thought away and shake my head. "I'm not doing it for you, Mason. If my mother is guilty, I can't let her go unpunished. She's poisoning this world. She's separating families, going against everything our institution stands for. I know you'll do some good with the information you'll get from this. I have to do this."

"No," he pleads. "You don't. Give me the phone back and we'll figure something-."

"No." I press my forehead to his. "I'm doing this."

"Tarak, please."

I wipe a tear from his face and pull away. "I'll see you as soon as it's done," I assure him.

I leave him there alone.