Chapter 13 · The Quinn House Wakes

"She's not picking up." Adrian slammed the phone against his thigh, already moving.

Mara kept pace beside him, boots hitting pavement hard. "How far?"

"Ten blocks. Maybe eight if we cut through the rails."

"Then we cut."

The key in his pocket burned cold. He could feel it pulling, dragging his ribs sideways like a hook through meat. It had pointed at the shop for thirty seconds, then swung back toward the Quinn house, then back again. Now it just vibrated, low and angry, like it couldn't decide which direction the world was about to split.

"Adrian."

"What?"

"Your hand's shaking."

He shoved it in his jacket. "I'm fine."

"You're not."

"She's alone in that shop, Mara. Alone. And that thing just lit her up like a target."

Mara grabbed his sleeve, yanked him to a stop under the overpass. "Listen to me. If we run in there stupid, we're both dead. Lia's dead. And whoever set this up gets to walk."

"So what do you want me to do? Wait?"

"No." She let go, but her eyes stayed on him. "I want you to tell me what the key does when it points at someone."

He didn't answer.

"Adrian."