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"Your brother's already a target."
Kael says it flat, like he's reading a weather report. I'm still standing by the window, my burned wrist throbbing under the bandage he wrapped twenty minutes ago. The mark underneath pulses every few seconds, hot and angry.
"Don't," I say.
"Don't what?"
"Don't use Milo to keep me here."
He's leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed, shirt sleeves rolled up. The death mark on his neck is fainter now, a smudge of charcoal instead of spreading ink. Mine's doing the opposite. Getting darker. Getting worse.
"I'm not using him," Kael says. "I'm telling you what's already happening. Selene Crowe posted a bounty on you two hours ago. Five hundred thousand for you alive. Half that for your brother, any condition."
My stomach drops.
"You're lying."
"Check your phone."
I don't want to. I pull it out anyway. Three missed calls from Milo. One text: *where are you*
Another text, ten minutes later: *someone's outside*
Nothing after that.
"Call him," Kael says.
I already am. It rings. And rings. Then Milo's voice, breathless.
"Nora?"
"Where are you?"
"Home. I locked the door. There's a guy in a black sedan across the street. He's been there since midnight."
I close my eyes. "Stay inside. Don't open the door for anyone."
"What the hell did you do?"
"I'll fix it. Just stay inside."
I hang up before he can argue.
Kael's watching me. "You can't go back there."
"He's seventeen."
"And you're marked. You show up at that apartment, Selene's hunters will be through the door in under five minutes. They'll take both of you."
"So what, I just leave him there?"
"No." Kael straightens, walks toward me. "You bring him here."
I laugh. It comes out sharp and bitter. "Right. Great plan. Trap him in your murder penthouse."
"This penthouse has three layers of warding, a private elevator, and enough firepower to hold off a small army. Your apartment has a broken fire escape and a landlord who hasn't fixed the locks in six months."
He's right. I hate that he's right.
"Why do you even care?" I ask.
Kael stops two feet away. Close enough that I can see the faint scar along his jawline, the way his pupils are still too sharp, too focused.
"Because if they take your brother, they'll use him to make you talk. And you'll tell them everything you saw at that auction. Everything you did to break my mark."
"So this is about you."
"This is about both of us staying alive."
He reaches out, and before I can pull back, his hand closes over my wrist. Not the burned one. The other. His grip is firm, warm, and I feel the pulse in his thumb against my skin.
"Let go," I say.
"Your mother saved my life once."
Everything stops.
I stare at him. "What?"
"Eight years ago. I was nineteen, bleeding out in an alley off Ninth Street. She found me. Used something small and black to burn the mark off my chest. Then she disappeared before I could ask her name."
My throat goes dry. "You're lying."
"Obsidian lighter. Engraved on the side. Latin phrase."
I can't breathe.
*Lux in tenebris.*
Light in darkness.
The lighter I used on him in the elevator. The one my mom left me. The only thing she left me.
"How do you know that?" My voice comes out too quiet.
Kael's still holding my wrist. His eyes don't leave mine. "Because I spent three years looking for her. I wanted to pay the debt. I wanted to know what she was. Every lead went cold. Then I heard she disappeared five years ago. No body. No witnesses. Just gone."
"Stop."
"Selene Crowe was hunting her."
I yank my wrist free, step back. My shoulders hit the window. "You don't know anything about my mother."
"I know she knew how to break a death mark without dying. I know Selene wanted that knowledge. And I know your mom went missing the same month Selene took over the hunter guild's inner council."
My hands are shaking. I shove them into my pockets.
"Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because you need a reason to stay," Kael says. "And revenge is a good one."
"I don't want revenge. I want my brother safe."
"Then we go get him. Together. Right now."
I look at him. Really look at him. The too-steady hands. The scar. The faint shadow of the mark on his neck that should've killed him by now.
"If you're using this to manipulate me—"
"I'm not."
"—I will find a way to put that mark back on you."
Kael almost smiles. Almost. "Deal."
He walks to the kitchen, pulls a black duffel bag from under the counter. Inside: two handguns, a folded knife, a brick of cash, and a keycard.
"We take the service exit," he says. "My car's in the underground garage. Fifteen-minute drive to your place. We get your brother, we're back here before Selene's people know we moved."
"What if they're already inside?"
"Then we go loud."
He hands me one of the guns.
I take it. Check the clip. Full.
"You know how to use that?" he asks.
"My mom taught me."
Something flickers across his face. Respect, maybe. Or recognition.
"Let's go," he says.
We're halfway to the elevator when my phone buzzes.
A text from Milo's number.
*He's at the door. He's knocking.*
Then another.
*Nora he says he knows you*
I'm running before I finish reading. Kael's right behind me, the duffel slung over his shoulder. The elevator doors slide open and we're inside, dropping fast.
"Call him," Kael says.
I'm already dialing. It rings once.
Twice.
Then Milo's voice.
"Nora?"
"Do not open that door."
"He says Mom sent him."
My blood turns to ice.
"Milo, listen to me—"
The line cuts.
I call again. Straight to voicemail.
The elevator hits the garage. The doors open. Kael's already moving, keys in hand. His car is a black sedan, low and fast. I'm in the passenger seat before the engine starts.
We peel out, tires screaming on concrete.
"How far?" Kael asks.
"Ten minutes. Maybe less."
He takes a corner too fast. I brace against the door.
"If he opened that door—" I start.
"He's seventeen and scared. He opened it."
I want to argue. I can't.
Kael's phone lights up on the dash. Unknown number. He hits speaker.
"Mercer."
A woman's voice. Smooth, cold, familiar.
Selene.
"I have something of yours," she says.
"I'm listening."
"The boy. He's very chatty. Wants to know where his sister is."
My hands curl into fists.
"What do you want?" Kael asks.
"The girl. Unmarked. At the Pier Twelve warehouse in one hour. You don't show, I send him back in pieces."
The line goes dead.
Kael doesn't slow down. He takes another turn, hard enough that the tires skid.
"We're not going to the warehouse," I say.
"No."
"We're going to my apartment first."
"Why?"
"Because if Selene has Milo, she's not there. She's at Pier Twelve. And she left someone behind to clean up."
Kael glances at me. "You think she's sloppy?"
"I think she's confident."
We pull onto my street. The black sedan is still there, parked across from my building. Empty.
Kael kills the engine two blocks down. We move on foot, fast and quiet. He's got the gun out, low at his side. I've got mine in my jacket pocket.
The apartment door is open.
Not broken. Just open.
Kael goes in first. I'm right behind him.
The place is trashed. Couch cushions on the floor. Milo's laptop smashed on the kitchen counter. Blood on the doorframe, not much, just a smear.
And in the middle of the floor, Milo's phone. Screen cracked. Still on.
I pick it up.
There's a video playing. On loop.
Milo, tied to a chair in a dark room. Someone off-camera.
"Say it," a man's voice.
Milo's face is pale, but his jaw is set. "Go to hell."
A hand comes into frame. Slaps him. Hard.
"Say it."
"Nora, don't—"
The video cuts.
Starts over.
Kael's standing in the doorway to Milo's room. "There's no one here."
I'm still staring at the phone.
Then I hear it.
Footsteps.
In the hallway outside.
Kael hears it too. He moves to the door, gun up.
A voice. Muffled. Familiar.
"Nora?"
Milo.
I move toward the door. Kael grabs my arm.
"Wait," he says.
"That's my brother."
"That's what they want you to think."
The footsteps stop. Right outside.
"Nora, are you in there?"
Kael's grip tightens.
I look at the door.
Then back at the phone in my hand.
The video is still playing.
Milo, in the chair.
Milo, in the hallway.
Both at the same time.