Chapter 21 · Blood Key

"Get your damn hands off him, Maya!"

Jax’s voice was a wet rattle. He was pinned six feet off the ground, a thick, pulsing violet tendril wrapped around his chest like a python. The spike had gone through his shoulder, and blood was painting the concrete in jagged, hot streaks.

I didn't move. I couldn't. My boots were locked to the floor by a dozen smaller filaments, shivering with a hunger that felt almost human.

"Pip, do something!" I screamed. I lunged forward, but the filaments tightened, slicing into my ankles. I hissed, my knees buckling. "Pip!"

From the crook of my arm, the plush toy flickered. His voice wasn't the sassy, arrogant tone from ten minutes ago. It was distorted, cracking like a dying radio.

"I'm... trying... Maya... the signal... it's too loud..."

He looked like scrap. The stitching on his chest was fraying, a dim, flickering blue light pulsing behind the fabric. He wasn't just glitching; he was fading.

"Don't just try, you useless piece of stuffing!" I snarled, struggling against the vines. "Jax is dying!"

"He is," Pip buzzed, a spark of static jumping from his ear. "And you're next. That thing—the Heart—