Chapter 29 · The Blood Hand at the Top

Drake hit the floor before I could catch him.

His shoulder slammed into the stone. The syringe skittered from his fingers and spun under the iron table, its empty barrel flashing in the candlelight.

"Drake."

He tried to push himself up. His arm gave out.

I dropped beside him and grabbed his face. His skin was cold. Too cold. Thin silver veins crawled beneath his throat, glowing every time his heart kicked.

"Tell me what you injected."

"You watched me do it. Don't start asking dumb questions now."

His voice still had teeth in it. That was good. Weak Drake scared me. Silent Drake terrified me.

I pulled his coat open. The old blood mark over his ribs had split again. Black lines spread from it, crawling toward his heart. The pact wasn't just drinking his blood anymore.

It was eating the rest of him.

"The inhibitor was supposed to slow it down," he said through clenched teeth.

"It slowed nothing."

"Maybe your mother built a bad one."

My hand tightened against his chest. "Don't talk about her."

"Why? You found the contract. You read it.