Chapter 13 · No Way Out at Midnight

"Your brother's alive."

Kael says it like he's commenting on the weather. Like Milo isn't bait. Like I didn't just bleed on his death mark to keep him breathing past midnight.

I'm still on my knees. My hand's still pressed to his chest. His heart's hammering under my palm, too fast, too hard. The mark's stopped crawling for now. Black veins trail up his throat like cracks in ice, but they're not moving.

"Where is he."

Not a question. I don't have the air left for questions.

Kael's looking at me the way you'd look at a dog that just bit you. Surprised. Almost impressed. "Safe," he says. "For the next four hours."

I shove off him. My hand leaves a bloody print on his shirt. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to dangle him and call it safe."

"I just did."

He sits up slow. The penthouse is a wreck. Shattered glass everywhere. The blast door's still smoking where Crowe's people tried to burn through. My lighter's on the floor, obsidian cracked clean down the middle.

"They took him two hours ago," Kael says. "Crowe wanted leverage.