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"Why are you so annoying?" I ask Daniel after he stops chuckling. Unfortunately, that doesn't stop his sarcasm.

"Because I can be."

"How did you even get my brothers to do that?"

"Wasn't hard, actually."

"That wasn't an answer," I retort quickly. The anger is coming back, even over something so slight.

"I wasn't planning on answering," Daniel says.

I groan, practically throwing my hand in the air in annoyance. "Why do you even bother talking?"

He turns his head towards me and smiles sarcastically into my face. "It's the best way to get under your skin, darling."

I sigh, mad about the at the ever-growing pile of stress Daniel has put on me. "Why do you always have to frustrate me so much? I never did anything to you."

"But seeing you frustrated brings me all kinds of joy."

I let out a low whistle and shake my head disapprovingly. I want to say something offensive or go off on him, but that might "bring him all kinds of joy." Daniel just doesn't have a nice bone in his nearly perfect-looking body. Screw you, fate, for making me have to deal with Daniel much more than I'd ever want to.

A stray piece of hair blows out from behind my ear, and I brush it back in place. As I follow him across the Renegade base camp, I become increasingly more annoyed with him as we bicker.

"So where are we going anyways?"

"Somewhere."

My blood boils. I hate it when people say that. I throw out my plan and switch to offense. "Seriously, Daniel. Tell me where we're going or I'll knife you."

Daniel grins, blue eyes shining with knowledge and amusement. He slings an arm around my shoulder lazily. The movement reminds me of when he kidnapped/rescued me from the agency, except my wrists aren't locked behind my back this time. "I'm not telling you. Why would I want to ruin the fun?"

I push his arm off me and grab instinctively at the side of my belt. I find empty air instead of a sharp knife. "Don't touch--"

Daniel cuts me off. "Save your breath for someone who cares."

I mentally swear at him while he speeds away towards the building with his father's office. I reluctantly jog to catch up with him. We pass through the doors together, but this time, we go across the lobby and down a navy corridor instead of stairs. Daniel stops in front of the second door on the left-hand side. He pushes the door open and strides in. I step inside the room and shut the door behind me.

I take a seat at the battered conference table and wait while Daniel fetches mix-matched papers and books from the single filing cabinet in a corner of the room. Tossing the books onto the table, I look at the titles. The Code of Conduct stands out, but the rest of the books and sheets are either impossible to read upside-down or they don't have titles. Daniel takes a seat across from me at the table before I can even reach to read something.

"I'm going to make this super basic for you since you probably can't handle this," Daniel says with mock-seriousness. I shoot him a deadly look, but he ignores the hint to grow up.

"So far in training, I've taught you how to throw knives, climb fences, and aim while under pressure. You've still got to shoot guns and bows."

"Obviously," I say. I'm kind of looking forward to shooting guns, mostly because they can keep you safer than a knife can.

Daniel leans forward in his chair, forearms resting on the table. He ignores my lovely commentary. "I never explained the history of the Renegades' efforts, so here." He picks a piece of paper out from the bottom of the messy stack. Handing it to me, I read:

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