Chapter 12 · Judge on Trial

"They're coming through the east wall in ninety seconds." Kael's voice cut through the safehouse quiet like a blade. "Get up."

Sienna didn't move from the couch. The moonmark still throbbed under her sleeve, hot and raw from last night's proximity burn. She looked at him standing by the window, one hand on the frame, the other loose at his side. Too calm. Like he'd been waiting for this.

"How do you know?" she said.

"Because I set the same breach pattern in Kandahar." He turned. His eyes were flat. "Lockwood's using my playbook."

Her stomach dropped. "You taught him how to—"

"I taught everyone." He crossed the room in three strides, grabbed her wrist, pulled her up. His palm was hot against her skin. The bond flared, sharp and immediate, and she yanked free.

"Don't touch me."

"Then move faster." He was already at the hall closet, pulling out a go-bag she didn't know existed. "Thirty seconds to the stairwell. Twenty more to the garage. After that we're on foot."

"I'm not running."

He stopped. Looked back at her. "Yes, you are."

"I'm a sitting judge. I don't run from—