Chapter 19 · Echoes of the Discarded

"Don't move another inch, or I'll rip your throat out before you can blink," Kane snarled, his fingers locked around the man's collar, hoisting him off the floor.

The man—a twitchy, middle-aged rat named Silas—was pinned against the damp concrete wall of the basement. He was shaking, his eyes darting toward the door every time a distant siren wailed through the neon haze of Knox City.

"I don't have it! I swear!" Silas shrieked, his voice cracking. "I only held it for a week!"

Kane didn't loosen his grip. Instead, he leaned in, the smell of old copper and ozone clinging to the air. He could feel the man's pulse hammering against his palm, fast and terrified. "Wrong answer. I don't do 'swear' and I don't do 'don't have it.' I do results. Now, where is the fragment?"

Evelyn stepped forward from the shadows, her heels clicking sharply on the concrete. She didn't look at Silas. Her gaze was fixed on Kane, tracking the way his knuckles were white, the way his jaw was locked in a line of pure, jagged hatred.

"Kane, you're shaking," she said quietly. Her voice wasn't soft—