Chapter 5 · Pain's a Two-Way Street

"Get your hand off me!" Evelyn hissed, her voice cracking as she tried to shove Kane back against the damp brick of the alleyway.

He didn't budge. Instead, he leaned in, his chest nearly brushing hers, the heat radiating off him in waves despite the midnight chill. He looked like a ghost—pale, sunken eyes, skin clinging to bone—but his grip on her wrist was like a vice.

"You're not leaving," Kane rasped. His voice sounded like gravel grinding together. "Not until you tell me how to bypass that scanner without triggering every alarm in the district."

"I told you, I don't know!" she snapped, struggling against him. "Marcus changed the encryption last month. You're a Discard, Kane. You're a glitch. The second you step inside, that machine is going to scream your name to every guard in the building."

Kane's lips curled into a jagged smile. He didn't let go. Instead, he slowly shifted his weight, pinning her more firmly against the wall. He could smell her perfume—something expensive, like jasmine and ozone—and the sharp, metallic scent of her fear.

"You're lying," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "You know a way. You just don't want to risk your pretty little neck for a dead man."

"I'm not risking anything for you!" Evelyn yelled, her chest heaving. "You're a liability. A parasite. I'm only here because if you die, the bond might drag me down with you."

Kane let out a low, dry chuckle. Then, without warning, he shifted his hand. He didn't reach for her throat or her waist. He reached for the jagged piece of reinforced glass sticking out of his own forearm—a souvenir from the fight at the clinic.

Evelyn's eyes widened. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Testing the connection," Kane said.

He didn't flinch. He gripped the shard and drove it deeper into his own flesh with a slow, deliberate twist.

Evelyn screamed.

She didn't feel the glass, but she felt the *agony*. It hit her like a lightning strike—a searing, white-hot spike of pain that ripped through her own arm in the exact same spot. Her knees buckled, and she slumped against the wall, gasping for air, her fingers clawing at her skin where no wound existed.

"Stop it!" she gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "Stop! Please!"

Kane didn't stop. He leaned closer, his face inches from hers. He looked almost manic, the pain fueling a dark energy in his eyes. He twisted the shard again, a slow, grinding motion.

"This is the problem with you, Evelyn," he breathed, his voice steady even as he bled. "You think you're the one in control because you have the keys to the city. But we're bound. Your nerves are my nerves. Your screams are my screams."

"You're insane," she sobbed, her body trembling. The shared agony was overwhelming, a psychic bridge that turned his self-destruction into her torture.

"I'm desperate," Kane corrected. He let the shard slip from his fingers, and it clattered onto the pavement. The pain vanished as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Evelyn shaking and breathless in the dirt. "Now. Let's try this again. How do we get past the scanner?"

Evelyn looked up at him, her gaze flickering between hatred and a new, terrifying kind of respect. She hated him for this. She hated that he had found the one way to make her feel as broken as he was.

"You're a monster," she whispered.

"I was a Hunter," Kane said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "Monsters are just the guys who survived the training. Now talk. Or I start seeing how much pain we can both take before you pass out."

Evelyn shuddered, her breath coming in jagged hitches. She reached up, wiping a stray tear from her cheek, her eyes scanning the mouth of the alley. The red glow of the club's neon sign flickered above them, casting long, bloody shadows across the pavement.

"There's a service entrance," she finally admitted, her voice trembling. "In the back. It's used for the soul-shards they import from the wastes. The scanner there is older, less sensitive. If we time it with the shift change, we might have a three-second window where the system reboots."

Kane stepped back, giving her room to breathe, but he didn't stop watching her. "Three seconds. That's all I need."

"You'll probably still get caught," she said, trying to regain some shred of her dignity. She stood up slowly, brushing the grime off her designer dress. "And when you do, I'm pretending I've never seen you before in my life."

"Liar," Kane said, a ghost of a smirk on his face. "You're already starting to like the rush."

"I hate you," she snapped, but she didn't move away when he stepped back into her space.

He reached out, his fingers barely grazing the fabric of her sleeve. The tension between them was thick, a heavy, electric charge that had nothing to do with the bond and everything to do with the way they were both staring at each other—like two predators who had realized they were trapped in the same cage.

"Good," Kane whispered. "Hate keeps you awake. I need you awake for this."

He turned and started walking toward the back of the club, his gait still unsteady but his resolve like iron. Evelyn lingered for a second, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked at the blood on the pavement, then at the man who had just used his own pain to blackmail her.

She followed him, her heels clicking softly on the asphalt.

As they approached the service entrance, the air grew heavy with the smell of ozone and old blood. The door was a heavy slab of reinforced steel, guarded by a single, humming turret that scanned the area every ten seconds.

"Wait," Evelyn whispered, grabbing his arm. Her touch was tentative, her fingers lingering on his skin longer than necessary. "The reboot happens at exactly midnight. If we're a second late, the turret will liquefy your brain before you can even blink."

Kane checked the cracked screen of his watch. 11:58.

"Two minutes," he said. "Tell me one more thing. If Marcus sees me... if he recognizes my soul signature, what's the plan?"

Evelyn paused, her expression darkening. She looked at the imposing silhouette of the 'Velvet Void' club, the epicenter of her family's cruelty and Marcus's ambition.

"He won't just recognize you, Kane," she said, her voice dropping to a chilled whisper. "He's been waiting for you to come back. He didn't just steal your fragments to get stronger. He's been using them to build something. A trap."

Kane stiffened. "What kind of trap?"

Evelyn looked him dead in the eyes, and for the first time, he saw genuine pity in her gaze.

"The scanner isn't just for security," she said. "Marcus has installed a soul-siphon in the main hall. The moment you step into the light, it won't just detect you. It'll start pulling the rest of your soul out through your pores."

Before Kane could respond, a sharp, electronic chirp echoed from the alley. The turret above them paused, its red light flickering to a dull grey.

"Now!" Evelyn hissed, shoving him toward the door.

They dove through the opening, the heavy steel door slamming shut behind them with a boom that vibrated in their chests. They were inside. The air was cold, smelling of sterile chemicals and expensive cigars.

But as they pressed their backs against the interior wall, a loud, piercing siren suddenly erupted from the ceiling. A red strobe light began to flash, painting the hallway in the color of an open wound.

Evelyn froze, her face going pale.

"What is that?" Kane demanded, his hand flying to the knife at his belt.

"The secondary sweep," Evelyn whispered, her eyes wide with horror. "I thought it was offline, but Marcus... he must have upgraded the system. The alarm isn't just ringing, Kane. It's a lock-on signal."

From the end of the hallway, the sound of heavy boots began to thunder toward them, accompanied by the unmistakable metallic click of rifles being readied.

"He knows," Evelyn breathed, her grip tightening on his arm. "He knows you're here."