Chapter 7 · He Knows Your Blood

Silas Grave smiled like he'd just won something.

Mara's hand was still on Kade's shoulder. The music kept going. People kept swaying around them, champagne and polite laughter, and none of them knew the man in the slate-gray suit had just called out a ghost.

Kade didn't move. His palm stayed flat against her lower back, warm through the silk, but his fingers went still.

"Wraith-Seven," Silas said again, quieter this time. He tilted his head, studying Kade the way someone studied a car they used to own. "Or should I say Kade Rourke? I heard you died in the Karachi drop. Guess that was optimistic."

Mara kept her face smooth. She'd learned that in the clinic. When someone's bleeding out and screaming, you don't flinch. You just work.

"I think you have the wrong guy," she said. Her voice came out easy, bored even. "We're just here for the wine."

Silas didn't look at her. His eyes stayed locked on Kade. "The wine. Right." He took a step closer, and the crowd parted for him without thinking about it. "Funny thing. Your date's been dead for ten years. At least, that's what her file says.