Chapter 12 · Fake Her Death

The broadcast pinged live at 2 a.m. No countdown. No warning holo. Just my wristband buzzing hot enough to burn.

I yanked it off and threw it at the wall. Didn't matter. The speakers in the safe house crackled anyway, and the voice that came through wasn't automated.

"Kill Sloane Rook by sunrise, or your sister dies first."

Sloane was standing three feet away, still bleeding from where I'd ripped the tracker chain off her shoulder. She didn't flinch. Just pressed a rag to the wound and looked at me like she'd been waiting for this.

"So," she said. "You gonna do it?"

I wanted to punch her. "Shut up."

"It's a fair question." She folded the rag, repositioned it. Her voice stayed flat. "You've got four hours. They're streaming the countdown on every district feed. Your sister's face is already up."

Nox slid across the floor toward her, pooling at her feet like oil. I grabbed its edge and yanked it back before it could touch her.

"Don't," I said.

Sloane smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Your shadow wants me dead. You want me dead. The city wants a show.