“Don’t move. Twitch, and I’ll break your wrist before the bond even registers the pain.”
Elias’s voice was a low grate against my ear. He had me pinned hard against the rusted siding of the mag-rail station. His chest crushed into my shoulder blades, stealing my breath.
“Get off me!” I hissed, jamming my elbow back into his ribs. “Mia is gone, Elias. Gone! And you’re worried about a piece of scrap metal?”
“I’m worried that someone wrote a warning in blood on your wall,” he countered. His grip tightened. He didn't let go. Instead, he leaned in, his breath hot against my neck. A traitorous shiver spiked down my spine.
“Who’s hunting you, Nora? Skip the ‘poor slum girl’ act. Not when you’re carrying a key that could light up half the city.”
I stopped fighting. The bond between us hummed—a vibrating ache at the base of my skull that flared every time he pressed closer. It wasn't a link. It was a leash.
“I don’t know,” I spat. “I just know if they find me with you, we’re both dead. Let go, or I’ll scream and bring every Enforcer in this district down on us.”
Elias chuckled. It was a dark, dry sound. “Go ahead. I’m already the most hated man in this zip code. But you? You’re a fugitive. A terrorist, if the reports are right.”
He stepped back, just enough for me to spin around. His eyes—cold, calculating, far too observant—stripped me bare. He looked like he wanted to arrest me and kiss me at the same time. I couldn't tell which would be more dangerous.
“The signal for the access shard is inside this station,” he said, nodding toward the dark, cavernous maw of the abandoned hub. “And based on the heat signatures, your sister isn’t the only thing missing. There’s a full squad of Central Enforcement inside. They aren’t reporting to my precinct.”
“What does that mean?” My voice trembled. “If they’re Enforcers, why aren’t they with you?”
“It means someone’s playing a dirty game. We’re the pawns.” He reached out, fingers grazing my forearm to check the bond’s sync on his cuff. The touch was brief, but it hit like an electric shock. “Stay close. Thirty feet is the limit, but in here? I want you within arm’s reach. If the bond snaps, we both drop dead. Clear?”
“Crystal,” I snapped. “Just don’t expect me to hold your hand.”
“I’ll settle for you not getting us killed,” he muttered, drawing his sidearm in one fluid motion.
We slipped into the station. Ozone and rotting concrete. Every footstep echoed like a gunshot. Mia. She was nineteen, a courier who knew too many secrets and had zero muscle to fight back. If Vale’s people had her, they weren't looking for ransom. They wanted the key.
“Left side,” Elias whispered, hauling me behind a collapsed ticket kiosk.
I peered around the edge. Three men in tactical gear. Blue visors glowing. These weren't standard issue—high-end corporate rigs. Espionage gear.
“Not my boys,” Elias whispered, voice tight. “Vale’s private hounds.”
“If they have Mia, I’m going out there.” I shifted my weight, ready to bolt.
*Slam.*
Elias’s hand clamped onto my shoulder, pinning me back against the wall. The force knocked the wind out of me. He was inches away, eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse jump.
“You go out there, you’re a corpse in ten seconds,” he growled. “You want to save your sister? We do this my way. We flank them, I kill the lights, you grab the shard. We get the leverage, then we get the girl. Understood?”
I glared at him, chest heaving. “I can’t just wait while she’s—”
“You will wait,” he commanded. His voice dropped an octave—absolute, dominant. “Because I’m the only thing keeping you from being a headline tomorrow morning.”
I hated him. I hated the way he looked at me like a puzzle. But the bond thrummed—a magnetic pull that made me want to lean into him. It was a sickness. A neural glitch.
“Fine,” I spat. “But if you mess this up, I’m stabbing you in the kidney.”
“I’ve had worse dates,” he smirked.
He moved like a predator, slipping through the shadows. I followed, boots clicking softly on the grit. We circled the platform, the air feeling like it was about to ignite.
Then I saw it. The access shard. A glowing crystalline spike embedded in a rusted console, pulsing amber.
“Now,” Elias breathed.
*Bang.*
He threw a disruptor grenade. A blinding white flash ripped through the station. The Enforcers screamed, clutching their visors.
I bolted. No thinking, just running. Boots pounding concrete, the bond pulling tight as Elias covered my flank. His gun barked three times—short, precise bursts. Guards went down.
I reached the console, fingers trembling as I gripped the shard. The second my skin touched the crystal, data flooded my brain. Not code. A voice. A recording.
*Nora... if you're hearing this... the cost...*
“Got it!” I yelled, ripping the shard free.
Suddenly, the emergency lights flickered. Not white. Blood-red. A siren wailed, a guttural scream that shook the floor.
“Move! Now!” Elias shouted, grabbing my waist and hauling me back.
But a holographic projector flared to life. A shimmering, translucent figure appeared in the center of the room.
I froze. My breath hitched. “Mom?”
It was her. Not a recording, but an AI ghost. Her eyes held a sadness that felt too real. She didn't look at Elias. She looked straight at me.
Elias stopped dead, his hand still tight on my wrist. His combat mask slipped, replaced by genuine shock.
“Nora,” the projection whispered. “The key is the only way to stop the blackout. But there is a price.”
“What price?” I gasped, stepping forward.
Elias yanked me back. “Don’t. It’s a trap. A lure.”
“Let me go!”
“Listen to me, Nora!”
The projection flickered. She looked at the bond glowing on our wrists—the illegal chain tying our lives together.
“The core restart is the only way to save the city,” the ghost of my mother said, her voice turning clinical. “But the surge is too violent for the neural link. The restart kills the bonded pair first. You cannot both survive the light.”
Silence fell. Heavier than the ruins.
Elias didn't let go. His thumb pressed into my pulse point; I could feel his heart racing through the bond. He looked at the projection, then down at me. His eyes narrowed.
“You’re telling me,” Elias said, his voice dangerously quiet, “that to save the city, we have to die?”
“Not both of you,” the projection replied, her image fading. “Only one of you can stay behind to trigger the switch. The other must be severed, or you both burn.”
As the hologram vanished, the sound of boots returned. Closer. Dozens of them. The exit was blocked.
Elias pulled me flush against his chest, his arm locking around me, weapon pointed at the door. He leaned down, lips brushing my ear, his voice a lethal promise.
“Well,” he whispered, “looks like we’re officially in a suicide pact.”