Chapter 24 · The Traitor's Beat

"Move your ass or we're both dead in the street," Sloane snapped, her grip on my wrist tight enough to bruise.

She didn't just pull me; she practically dragged me through the grime of the lower-level alley. I stumbled, my boots skidding on a patch of iridescent oil. The air here tasted like ozone and old copper, the kind of smell that usually meant someone had just been vaporized.

"I can walk, Sloane. Give me a second to breathe," I hissed, trying to wrench my arm away.

She stopped dead and spun me around, slamming my back against a damp brick wall. The impact knocked the wind out of me, but she didn't let go. Instead, she crowded into my space, her chest nearly touching mine. I could feel the heat radiating off her, a sharp contrast to the freezing drizzle starting to fall around us.

"Breathe on your own time," she whispered, her voice a dangerous low vibration. "The Hounds are three blocks out. If they catch a scent of your gene-signature, they won't arrest you. They'll disassemble you while you're still screaming. Do you get that?"

I looked up at her, my heart hammering against my ribs.