Chapter 13 · The Ninth Door

"Drop the page, Mara. Right now." Dax's hand closed around my throat before I could reach the lock.

His palm was hot. Not warm. Hot enough to make my skin sting through my collar.

I drove my elbow into his ribs.

He caught it with his free hand and twisted. My shoulder slammed against the black iron door. Pain shot down my arm, but I kept the torn gray page clenched in my fist.

"You always open with murder?" I snapped.

"Only when you make me ask twice."

"You asked once."

"Then listen faster."

His face was inches from mine. His breath scraped across my cheek, rough and uneven. A dark line had spread under the skin at his throat, crawling toward his jaw like spilled ink.

The black vow was moving again.

Behind him, boots struck the stone steps.

Three sets. Maybe four.

The Oath Bureau had found us.

Dax heard them too. His grip tightened for half a second, then his eyes dropped to the page in my fist.

"Give it to me," he said.

"You want to explain why your hand is around my neck first?"

"The page is calling the Bureau."

"Funny.