Frustration coursed through Cassidy Findley’s body like lightning, igniting her skin and setting every nerve ending on fire. Times like this made her glad she’d invested in a treadmill for her apartment because she didn’t want to be around anyone else but still needed to pound it out on the pavement—faux as it might be. If she had something against fakes, she would have to hate half of her team right now, maybe all of them. Even the ones who told her she was right, that Daunator was a problem, didn’t actually want to do anything about it, and their inability to take any action on their own had her...