Chapter 7 · The Convoy Map
"Move, Nora. Now!"
Elias slammed her against the vent wall. A burst of rifle fire chewed through the grate behind her, screaming metal and sparks showering her hair.
*Crack.*
A round punched through the gap, clipping the pipe inches from her ear.
"You keep saying that like I have somewhere to go!" Nora snapped.
"You have six inches of tunnel and three soldiers closing in. Pick one."
He pinned her. His body was a wall of heat, one arm braced beside her face. His breath hit her cheek—fast, rough, desperate. Under her skin, the bond pulsed.
*One-two. One-two.*
Too fast. He was terrified, and she was feeling every beat of it.
Another shot shattered the grate. Nora ducked under his arm and kicked the maintenance panel at their feet. The rusted cover buckled, but stayed shut.
"Help me!"
"I am helping you!"
"You're standing on my hand!"
Elias looked down. His boot was planted square across her fingers. He jerked back, but as she slipped on the slanted floor, his palm caught her waist.
*Zap.*
The touch triggered a flash through the bond.
A command room. Red warning lights. Thorne’s hand resting on a glass console.
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