Chapter 16 · Old Debts

"Still wearing their collar, Cain?"

The boot slammed into his chest before I could even scream.

Cain didn't fight it. He didn't even flinch. He just stood there in the dirty light of the vent, taking the hit like he deserved it.

The man in the Council blacks was a mountain of a human. A jagged scar ripped down his throat, and the Enforcer insignia had been crudely burned off his sleeve. He pressed the muzzle of his gun right under Cain's chin and looked at me with a sick little smile.

"You must be the battery," he said. "He didn't tell you, did he?"

"Get away from him!" I snapped.

My core was still buzzing, hot and electric under my skin from the vent. My hands were shaking, but I stepped between them anyway. I didn't care.

Cain's hand shot out. He yanked me back—hard. His fingers dug into my wrist, bruising the skin.

"Don't," he said. Low. Flat. He wasn't talking to the guy. He was talking to me.

"Oh, she doesn't know," the scarred man laughed. "Cain, you always did like them stupid and loyal. Just like your brother."

Cain flinched.