Chapter 12 · Marked for Purging

The tunnel smells like rot and old blood. I can't see the end of it. Drake's collapsed against the stone wall, his face half-black now, veins crawling up past his jawline like cracks in glass. Lucas is on his knees a few feet away, clutching his side where the crossbow bolt went through. He's not healing. Guild silver, probably.

I pull Drake's arm over my shoulder and drag him deeper in. His weight almost drops me. Six hundred years and I still forget how heavy dead weight is.

"Ella." Lucas's voice is rough. "Is there a way out?"

"There was." Four hundred years ago. I don't know if it's still open. "My mother used to bring me down here. Said it was older than the monastery."

Drake's head lolls. His eyes crack open, just a sliver, and they're bloodshot all the way through. "Guild's coming."

"I know."

"They'll kill you."

"I know that too."

He tries to push me off. Doesn't have the strength. "Go. Leave me."

I tighten my grip on his wrist. "Shut up."

Lucas gets to his feet, stumbles, catches himself on the wall. Blood's soaking through his jacket. "We can't fight them down here.