Chapter 11 · Win Dirty

The guard captain's blade stopped an inch from Cass's throat.

Not because the man had mercy. Because Seraphina Quill was standing in the doorway with her hand raised, and when Seraphina raised her hand, people stopped moving.

"That's enough." Her voice was silk over steel. "Lower your weapon."

The captain's jaw worked. His blade didn't move. "Miss Quill, these two broke into restricted archives. They assaulted—"

"I said lower it."

The blade dropped.

Cass didn't breathe. Mara was still pressed against his back, her knife out, her whole body coiled like a spring. He could feel her heartbeat through his shirt. Fast. Angry. Scared.

Seraphina stepped into the archive room. Her uniform was perfect. Her hair was perfect. Even the way she looked at the chaos—scattered files, broken lock, blood on Cass's sleeve—was perfect. Like she'd expected this.

"Leave us," she said to the guards.

The captain opened his mouth.

"Now."

They left. Cass watched them go and tried to figure out what fresh nightmare he'd just walked into. Seraphina never helped anyone unless it served Seraphina.

She closed the door. Locked it with a flick of her fingers.