Chapter 6 · Echoes of the Dead

"Get your head down or lose it!"

Mara slammed me against the rusted metal of a collapsed transit kiosk. Her hand clamped over my mouth, smelling of ozone and old blood.

Above us, the city sirens screamed—a jagged sound that tore through the smog. Every holographic billboard in the district flashed my face. Grainy. Desperate. Underneath was a crimson banner: PRIORITY ONE. TERMINATE ON SIGHT.

"I didn't... I didn't do this," I choked out against her palm.

Mara didn't budge. She kept me pinned, her body pressed hard against mine. I could feel the rapid thrum of her heart through her combat gear, her hot breath ghosting against my ear. For a second, the chaos outside vanished. There was only the suffocating heat of her.

"You're a walking disaster, Rowan," she whispered, her voice a dangerous edge. "The Council doesn't put a hit on someone unless they've burned a city down. Tell me—what did you actually do before you wiped your own brain?"

"I don't know!" I snapped, trying to shove her back. "That's the whole point of the memory loss, you idiot!"

She didn't flinch. She tightened her grip on my wrist, fingers digging into my skin.