Chapter 16 · Spire Express

"Hold the damn cable or we both end up as street paint!"

Lyra’s scream was barely audible over the shrieking metal of the lift box. The severed cable snapped with a sound like a gunshot, and the world dropped. My stomach slammed into my throat as the lift plummeted down the shaft, gravity trying to rip us apart.

I didn't think. I lunged, my mechanical arm hissing as I slammed my fingers into the rusted ceiling grate. The metal groaned, screaming under the pressure, but it held. Lyra was a blur of black leather and panic, sliding toward the open edge of the box.

"Grab me!" she yelled, her boots skating on the oil-slicked floor.

I reached out with my organic hand, catching her wrist just as she tipped over the ledge. I yanked her back in with a grunt, slamming her against the shaking wall. We were falling at a hundred miles an hour, the wind howling through the gaps in the lift cage like a dying god.

"You're shaking," I noted, my voice rasping. I didn't let go of her wrist. Her skin was hot, her pulse hammering against my palm like a trapped bird.

"Shut up, Vance!"