Chapter 17 · Back to the Quinn House

"We're not going in there."

Mara's already walking toward the house. Adrian catches her wrist, and she spins on him so fast the knife's at his throat before he can let go.

"Try that again," she says.

He doesn't move. The blade's cold. Her hand's steady. But her pulse is hammering under his thumb where he's still holding her wrist, and they both know it.

"The wardens are coming," he says. "They'll tear the place apart looking for breach traces. If we're inside when they show up—"

"Then we'd better be fast." She pulls her hand free, and the knife disappears back into her coat. "The key pointed here, Adrian. My mother's voice is in that lock. You heard it."

"I heard something."

"Don't do that. Don't pretend you didn't feel it turn." She's already at the front gate. The iron's rusted through in places, and the Quinn crest is half-eaten by corrosion. "The black key wants us here. So either you help me crack the ward, or you stand outside and wait for the wardens to arrest you for trespassing."

Adrian follows because he's an idiot. Because the lock in his head hasn't stopped whispering since the rifts closed.