"Who is this?" Brittany repeated, and her voice hardened.
"Call me… Mister Hero." Another chuckle, longer, wetter. "I'm a friend. A friend with resources, and a deep appreciation for hot awakened women."
Trisha had leaned in close enough to hear. Every muscle around her mouth tightened. She shook her head once. Hang up.
Brittany almost did. Her thumb hovered over the screen. But sixty-eight hours and five hundred thousand Chronos and zero firms willing to fight were still burning in her skull, and the phone stayed against her ear three seconds longer than it should have.
"What kind of resources?"
"The helpful kind." The heavy breathing sounded again. "I'm willing to make your problems go away. Both of you. Every Chronos of it. In exchange for… a small favor."
Brittany felt the floor tilt the way it had tilted in Maeve's tent.
"What favor?" she asked, and her voice came out thin.
