Chapter 32 · Traitors of the Neon

"Get your ass up or we both burn in this hole!"

Sloane’s voice ripped through the static in my head. I felt her hand clamp onto the collar of my jacket, hauling me backward just as a secondary explosion tore through the floorboards behind us. The blast threw us both against the corrugated metal wall with a bone-jarring thud.

I coughed, tasting copper and ozone. Dust choked the air, turning the neon glare of the slums into a muddy, flickering mess. Above us, the ceiling was raining sparks and chunks of reinforced concrete.

"Stay down," she snapped, her breath hot against my ear. She didn't let go of my collar. Instead, she pinned me harder against the wall, her body a shield between me and the collapsing corridor.

"I can... I can move," I wheezed, trying to push her back.

"Shut up. You’re glitching," she countered, her eyes scanning the smoke. "Your eyes are glowing like a fucking Christmas tree, Kael. If you try to stand now, you’ll probably trip over your own neural pathways and get us both killed."

I looked down. My hands were shaking, but not from fear.