Chapter 5 · I told you not to

He caught the knife's handle and pulled it free.

Mara stepped back. "I told you not to."

The wound opened.

A thin strand of black blood slid down his stomach and fell onto the stones. Where it landed, the ash hissed.

Riven shoved the blade toward her.

Mara caught it by the handle. "What is this?"

"My blood."

"I meant the curse."

"You already know enough."

"I know you are infected. I know the Night Court wants you dead. I know every bounty hunter in this district was told to bring you in before midnight. I don't know why your blood is eating through ash."

"Because the curse recognizes plague magic."

"That is not an answer."

"It's the one you get."

The street shook beneath their boots. A dull pulse rolled through the walls. Every ash-walker froze.

Mara felt the burn in her wrist flare.

Riven felt it too. His head snapped toward her.

"Show me your hand."

"No."

"Mara."

"Don't use my name like you own it."

"Show me."

She backed away. He followed. The alley narrowed around them, with infected corpses blocking the entrance and a sealed iron gate behind her.

Riven planted one hand beside her head. His other hand still held the bloody knife.

"You touched my blood," he said. "The curse may have crossed over."

"You think?"

"How long has it burned?"

"Since you grabbed me."

"How long?"

"A few minutes."

"Tell me the truth."

"Why? So you can panic more accurately?"

His face came close enough that she felt his breath against her cheek. His hand slid down the wall and caught her wrist again.

The burn snapped from her palm to her shoulder.

Mara gasped.

Riven's eyes darkened. "There it is."

"Let go."

"Not until I know what you did."

"I stabbed you. That's what I did."

"Before that."

"Nothing."

"You used a null blade."

"Congratulations. You can identify a weapon."

"Null blades don't carry living blood. Yours does."

Mara stopped fighting for half a breath.

Riven noticed.

"Who gave it to you?" he asked.

"None of your business."

"Who taught you to bind a curse into steel?"

"Nobody taught me."

"Liar."

She drove her forehead into his nose.

Riven swore and staggered. Mara tore free, kicked his injured knee, and caught the black sword when it slipped from his hand.

She put the point under his chin.

The ash-walkers pressed closer behind him.

"Now we are going to try this again," she said. "You ask nicely. I decide whether you keep your throat."

Blood ran from his nose. He looked at the sword, then at her.

"Put it down."

"Try asking nicely."

"Mara."

"That isn't nice."

"Please put the sword down before the curse takes your arm."

She glanced at her hand.

Black lines had crept beneath the skin from her wrist to the base of her thumb. They pulsed with his heartbeat.

Once.

Twice.

Riven watched her see it.

"Now keep me alive," he said.

He lunged.

Mara expected the attack. She turned the sword and caught his wrist, but he used the motion to slam her against the iron gate. The weapon clattered between them.

"You are getting predictable," she said.

"You are getting slow."

"I am injured."

"So am I."

"Your injury is my fault."

"Exactly."

His forearm pressed across her chest, holding her against the gate. Not hard enough to crush. Hard enough to make it clear he could.

The infected bodies gathered around them. Their heads tilted toward Mara's arm.

Riven noticed.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"They are looking at you."

"Maybe they have taste."

"They are hunting the blood in your arm."

"Then get off me and let them hunt you instead."

"You really want to die?"

"I want you to stop touching me."

His forearm eased by one inch.

Mara used the space. She drove her shoulder into his chest and twisted. Riven caught her around the waist before she could slip past. His coat scraped against her torn sleeve. Heat spread through the thin fabric between them.

She felt his breath stop.

So did she.

"Let go," she said, quieter now.

"No."

"Riven."

His grip shifted, one hand braced at her lower back, the other still locked around her wrist. His thumb pressed against her pulse again.

"You are afraid," he said.

"Of you? Never."

"Of the curse."

"I am afraid of wasting time."

"Your brother is in the noble prison, isn't he?"

Mara went still.

Riven's eyes stayed on hers.

"How do you know that?"

"The bounty notice listed your payment terms. Twenty thousand crowns. Half goes to the prison wardens. The rest goes to the hunter."

"You read my file."

"I read every file attached to my targets."

"You knew about my brother and still came after me."

"That is how work functions."

"You are lying."

"You are bleeding on me. We both have problems."

His fingers tightened at her back.

"If the curse reaches your heart, you die. If I die first, it tears through you."

Mara stared at him. "You said that like it was supposed to bother me."

"It should."

"I have been bothered before. I survived."

"This is not a bad debt or a locked door. This is a living chain."

"Then break it."

"I can't."

"You are the Night Court's best enforcer. You can break a man's neck with one hand. But you can't break a blood curse?"

"Not this one."

"Who can?"

"The person who made it."

"Name them."

"I don't know."

Mara laughed once. "That was almost convincing."

"I don't know who started the curse. I know who gave me the order that led me here."

"Your officer."

His gaze sharpened.

"You know about that too?"

"I know you were marked rogue three nights ago. I know the Court put a kill order on you. I know someone inside the Court erased the escort team assigned to bring you in."

"And you still think I am the villain?"

"I think you are expensive. Villain is a separate question."

One of the ash-walkers slammed into the gate. The iron bars shook behind Mara's back.

Riven turned his head just enough to see them closing in.

"We have ten seconds."

"Then stop interrogating me."

"You answer one question."

"You get one answer."

"Who gave you the blade?"

Mara's mouth went dry. "My mother."

The word came out before she could stop it.

Riven's eyes dropped to the weapon between them.

"Elara Voss?"

Mara shoved him back. "Don't say her name."

"Why?"

"Because people who say it usually want something."

"She disappeared six years ago."

"You know that too?"

"The Court searched for her."

"Why?"

"Because she stole plague records."

Mara's grip closed around the sword.

"You knew my mother?"

"No. I knew what she left behind."

"You are going to tell me everything."

"If we live."

"We are going to live."

"That confidence is misplaced."

"I have a better plan than dying in an alley with you."

"That is a low bar."

Mara shoved the sword into the nearest ash-walker. Riven grabbed the back of her coat and pulled her through the gap as the creature collapsed.

They ran.

Mara kept one hand over her bleeding arm. Riven ran beside her, one hand clamped over his ribs. Every few steps, their shoulders hit. Neither apologized.

"Where are we going?" she demanded.

"The clinic on Bell Street."

"That clinic was sealed."

"Exactly."

"You have a habit of choosing terrible places."

"You have a habit of stabbing people who are trying to help you."

"You weren't helping me. You were hunting me."

"I was hunting the person who sold the plague to the Court."

"And you thought I was involved?"

"You came carrying a null blade made by Elara Voss. What was I supposed to think?"