Physics is a suggestion. At least, it is for me.

  I hung suspended in the filtered air of the gymnasium, the world tilting on a forty-five-degree axis. The apex of a basket toss is the only place where silence actually exists. For a split second, the thumping bass of the cyber-pop mix faded, the squeak of sneakers vanished, and the only thing that mattered was the math.

  Velocity. Trajectory. The lie.

  Physics wanted me to fall. The wolf in my blood wanted me to launch myself through the skylight and land on the roof. Bad idea. The smog up there plays hell with my conditioner. The wolf pressed against the inside of my ribcage, a wild itch begging to be scratched.

  Not today, furball.

  I killed the momentum. It took active concentration, a mental brake slam that felt like tripping over a curb. I tucked my knees, rotated twice—human speed, not predator speed—and let gravity reclaim its property.

  I hit the mat. Hard. Not because I had to, but because humans are heavy. If I landed with my real grace, I’d be silent as a shadow, and Coach Reynolds would ask questions I can’t answer.

  “Clean! That was clean, Nova!”

  Our new coach, Reynolds, blew her whistle, the shrill sound cutting through the air like a jagged wire. She stood by the sideline, clutching a tablet that tracked our biometrics. “Heart rates down, ladies! We’re looking for synchronization, not cardiac arrest!”

  I bounced up, flashing the smile that won three regional championships and got me out of two detention slips. It was plastic, polished, and hurt my face.

  “Easy peasy,” I said, jogging back to the formation.

  Tessa O’Connor was already there, adjusting her holographic top collar. It flickered from neon pink to white, matching the pulse of the LED strips embedded in our uniforms. She looked at me with eyes wide enough to act as satellite dishes.

  “Easy?” she whispered, breathless. “Nikki, you got like, serious air. I thought you were gonna high-five a drone.”

  “Just good coffee this morning, Tess.” I winked. “Don’t overthink it.”

  “I overthink everything. It’s my brand.” She smoothed her skirt, her gaze darting to the viewing deck. “Do you think the scouts are watching? I heard a rumor that a recruiter from Tokyo is in the city.”

  “Let ‘em watch. Unless they’re paying in diamonds or genuine, non-synthetic chocolate, I’m not interested.”

  We reset for the pyramid. The gym smelled of stale rubber, ozone, and the sharp tang of floor wax. Above us, the massive screens displayed the school mascot—a pink wolf—looping a victory dance. It was all so shiny. So loud. So perfectly normal.

  And I felt like an alien wearing a human suit three sizes too small.

  “Base positions!” Reynolds yelled.

  I dropped into a squat, locking my arms. Tessa stepped onto my thigh, her sneaker digging into my quad. I didn’t flinch. To me, she weighed about as much as a bag of packing peanuts. The real struggle wasn't lifting her; it pretended that lifting her was hard. I had to grit my teeth, force a grimace, and add a little tremble to my arms just to sell the performance.

  Acting class, I thought. This isn't sports. It's a theater.

  As Tessa rose to an arabesque above me, my eyes drifted. I scanned the bleachers, the exits, the ventilation ducts. Habit. Paranoia. Survival. The shadows in the upper corners were too deep, the flickering service light by the north exit was erratic.

  My wrist buzzed against the radial artery. Handy. Finally.

  I held the stance, my smile frozen, while a synthesized voice whispered directly into my auditory nerve via the bone-conduction implant in my ear.

  “Heart rate sixty-five,” the AI said. He sounded like a game show host who’d been chain-smoking for thirty years. “Boring. I’ve seen goldfish with more adrenaline. You realize you’re holding a human being over your head, right? Most people find that stressful.”

  Shut up, Handy, I thought, projecting the intent. I didn’t need to speak out loud; the interface picked up the subvocal patterns. I’m working.

  “You’re cheerleading. ‘Working’ implies productivity. I, on the other hand, am scrubbing the dark web. Bandwidth here is trash. I’ve seen toasters with better signals.”

  Anything?

  “Zero. Zip. Nada. The channels are quieter than a mime’s funeral.”

  That should have been good news. Silence meant safety. Silence meant Pandora Corp hadn’t found the leak yet. It meant the black hover SUV dragging a surveillance net through the city wasn’t looking for me.

  So why did the silence make the hair on my arms stand up?

  “Down!” Reynolds shouted.

  I lowered Tessa, catching her waist and setting her gently on the sprawling logo painted on the floor. She did a little hop, her ponytail swishing.

  “Okay, that felt solid,” Tessa said, high-fiving Cody Miller, who had just finished spotting the back line. Cody wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist, his lanky frame draped in the squad’s practice gear.

  “Solid?” Cody grinned. “You guys looked like statues. Meanwhile, I think I pulled a hamstring just watching.”

  “You need more potassium,” I said, grabbing my water bottle from the bench. The metal was cool against my palm. “Eat a banana, Cody. Be the primate you were born to be.”

  “Ha ha. Funny.” He leaned against the bleachers, his light-up sneakers pulsing a slow, resting green. “You headed to the arcade later? A new shipment of retro cabinets came in. I heard they got a functional Galaxy Dancer.”

  “Maybe,” I lied. “Depends on homework.”

  “Homework.” Cody rolled his eyes. “Right. Because you actually study. You get straight A’s without opening a book, Nikki. It’s unnatural.”

  He didn't know half of it.

  I took a long drink, the water metallic and lukewarm. Unnatural. The word rattled around my skull. If Cody knew what I did last night—sprinting across the skeletal remains of the elevated train tracks, howling at a smog-choked moon, shredding a steel dumpster because the rage was too hot to contain—he wouldn’t be inviting me to play arcade games. He’d be calling animal control. Or the military.

  “Break five!” Reynolds yelled, tapping her screen. “Then we run the routine with music. Full volume!”

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  I turned away from them, needing a second to breathe without performing. I walked toward the heavy double doors at the far end of the gym, pretending to stretch my calves.

  My stomach curdled. The protein bar I ate for lunch threatened to make a reappearance. It wasn’t the practice. It wasn't the wolf, usually.

  It was the drive buried under a pile of rusted server racks in my hideout.

  I could feel its phantom presence in my hand. A small rectangle of plastic and circuitry that weighed more than the entire building I was standing in.

  “Still thinking about the stolen data,” Handy whispered. “It’s a very expensive, very dangerous brick. No one can unlock it without the encryption key.”

  I know, I thought back, staring at the scuffed toe of my sneaker. But they are watching me, Handy. Any wrong move could get me killed.

  “The encryption is Pandora Black-Level. It shifts every time I try to parse the code. I'm sure Pandora will have trouble cracking it.”

  How long?

  “Give them a century. Or a quantum processor. Currently, I am running on a repurposed wrist-comm and a prayer. I’m doing my best, but I’m an AI, not a wizard.”

  I gripped the water bottle until the plastic crunched. We were targets. I was holding a grenade with the pin pulled, waiting for my arm to get tired. I’m carrying enough encrypted data to get me grounded for life. Or, you know, assassinated. Whichever comes first.

  I had wrapped it in my encryption—a messy code Handy had slapped together to mask its digital signature. Hopefully, Pandora’s scanners would glide right over it. Hopefully.

  But "hope" is a terrible strategy when you're fighting vampires in business suits.

  “Relax,” Handy said. “Cortisol spiking. You’re going to pop a claw, and these floors are expensive to refinish.”

  “I’m fine,” I muttered aloud.

  “Talking to yourself again, Nova?”

  I spun around. Nancy Vane, captain of the B-squad, stood there with her arms crossed. She had the perfect face that made you wonder if she was built in a factory. Maybe she was. In this city, you never knew.

  “Just rehearsing, Vane,” I said, smoothing my expression. “Focus. You should try it.”

  She sneered. “Save it. You missed a beat on the transition count. You’re distracted.”

  “And you’re observing me instead of your own squad. Fan behavior, honestly.”

  Nancy opened her mouth to snap back, but a deafening BOOM shook the gymnasium.

  The floorboards jumped.

  A normal girl would scream. A normal girl would duck and cover.

  I didn't.

  Before the first dust mote settled, I was in a combat crouch, claws itching beneath my manicure. My pupils blew wide, sucking in every photon of light. The smell of fear—acrid, sour sweat—hit me in a wave before anyone had even realized they were afraid.

  Heartbeats drummed against my eardrums—a rapid-fire thumping from thirty panicked chests. I saw the source of the noise: a massive speaker stack on the far wall had blown a fuse, sending a shower of sparks raining down onto the bleachers.

  Just a blown speaker. Technical malfunction.

  But I primed my body for war. A low, guttural growl vibrated in my chest, a sound that didn't belong in a high school. My fingernails bit into my palms, sharp and hard. The skin on my arms rippled, the follicles itching as fur tried to push through.

  Stop.

  I clamped down on the wolf with an iron will. It’s a speaker. It’s just noise. Stand down.

  The world snapped back to real-time speed.

  Screams erupted. Students were scrambling away from the sparking equipment. Coach Reynolds was yelling orders.

  I stood frozen in my combat crouch, my breathing ragged. I looked down at my hands. My knuckles were white, and a faint, silver glow was fading from my skin.

  Too close.

  “Whoa, Nikki!” Cody’s voice. He was five feet away, looking at me with a mixture of confusion and concern. He hadn’t ducked. He’d been watching me.

  I forced my muscles to unlock. I stood up, feeling disjointed, like my limbs belonged to a marionette with tangled strings.

  “Jumpy much?” Cody asked, stepping closer. He looked at the spot where I’d been standing, then back at my face. “You moved… fast. Like, really fast.”

  “Caffeine,” I croaked. My voice was tight. I cleared my throat and tried for a nonchalant shrug, but it felt jagged. “Too much espresso. Makes me twitchy.”

  Cody narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t buying it. He’s a slacker, sure, but he’s not an idiot. He’s the guy who notices when the teacher changes her perfume or when a vending machine is humming at a different pitch.

  “That wasn’t a twitch, Nikki. You looked like you were about to… I don’t know. Pounce?”

  “Don’t be dramatic,” I said, grabbing my towel to hide my shaking hands. “I just hate loud noises. It’s a sensory thing.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since always.” I scrubbed my face with the towel, inhaling the scent of fabric softener to ground myself. “Look, the speaker blew. It’s over. Let’s not make a documentary about it.”

  “Alert,” Handy chimed in, his tone suddenly devoid of humor. “That wasn’t just a blown fuse.”

  I froze behind the towel. What?

  “Localized EMP burst. Micro-scale. Directed.” Handy’s static hissed. “Someone didn’t just overload the speaker. They shot it.”

  My stomach dropped. I lowered the towel and scanned the gym again, this time with predator eyes. The panic was settling. Robot cleaners were running in with extinguishers. The cheerleaders huddled in groups, tweeting about their near-death experience.

  But up in the rafters, near the ventilation shafts, a shadow moved. It was darker than the surrounding gloom. Fluid. Wrong.

  Handy, scan the upper gantries. Sector North.

  “Scanning… Interference. Heavy magnetic shielding. I can’t get a lock.”

  Of course not.

  The shadow detached itself from the darkness and slipped into the vent. Gone.

  “Did you see that?” I whispered.

  “See what?” Cody asked, leaning in.

  “Nothing,” I said quickly, turning my back on the ceiling. “Just… a bird. Or a bat.”

  “In the gym?” Cody looked up, squinting.

  “Big vents,” I said.

  My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo. That wasn’t an accident. That was a test. Or a warning.

  Someone must be watching me. Someone with tech that could scramble an AI and trigger an explosion without leaving a trace.

  Pandora?

  “Unlikely,” Handy said. “If it was Pandora, they wouldn’t have blown a speaker. They would have gassed the room and collected you while everyone was napping. That was… sloppy. Or playful.”

  Playful. The word made me sick.

  “Alright, show’s over!” Reynolds shouted, clapping her hands to regain control. “Maintenance is on it. Back to position! We have a competition in two weeks, and I don’t care if the roof caves in, we hit that pyramid!”

  The squad groaned, but they moved. They shuffled back to the mats, gossiping about the sparks.

  I stayed rooted for a second longer. The dissonance was deafening.

  On the outside, I was Nikki Nova. Seventeen. Popular cheerleader. Math whiz. A girl worried about prom dresses and physics tests.

  On the inside, I was a feral bomb with fangs, keeping an encrypted drive at my hidden lab, full of nightmares, being hunted by a corporation that viewed me as a patent-pending biological weapon.

  I looked at my arm. The skin was smooth, tan, normal. But I could feel the mark underneath, the bite scar that glowed when the moon was full.

  “Nikki! Let’s go!” Tessa waved from the center of the mat.

  I took a deep breath, forcing the air into the bottom of my lungs. I plastered the smile back on my face. It felt heavy, like theatrical makeup applied too thickly.

  “Coming!” I said.

  I jogged back to the squad, my sneakers squeaking on the polished floor. I high-five Tessa, cracked a joke about the pyrotechnics budget, and got ready to throw a girl into the air.

  But my ears were swiveling, tuning into frequencies no human could hear. My nose was dissecting the air, filtering out the ozone to find the scent of the intruder.

  Then it hit me. Under the ozone and floor wax. Copper. Cold iron. The metallic stink of blood that had stopped flowing a long time ago.

  Leech.

  My stomach twisted.

  This isn’t over, I told the wolf.

  Hungry, the wolf replied.

  I ignored it and locked my hands for the basket toss.

  “One, two, down, up!”

  Tessa flew. I smiled. And I waited for the monsters to come out of the dark.