Chapter 6 · Blood Money and Breathless Air

"You’re paying too much for a hack-job surgery, Vane. This doc’s shaking like a leaf," Roxie whispered, her shoulder brushing mine as we crowded into the cramped, sterile-smelling basement.

I didn't look at her. I kept my eyes on the surgeon, a disgraced corporate vet whose hands were indeed trembling as he hovered over Mina. The kid was out cold, her breathing shallow, hooked up to a machine that looked like it had been scavenged from a scrap yard.

"He’s not shaking because he’s scared of me," I said, my voice low, a vibration that seemed to make the surgical tools on the tray rattle. "He’s shaking because he knows if he slips, I’ll collapse the ceiling onto his head before he can even scream."

Roxie let out a sharp, dry laugh, though she didn't move away. She was too close—I could smell the ozone and burnt rubber that always clung to her after a high-speed run. "Real romantic. You know, most guys just buy flowers. You buy a basement and threaten the staff."

"Shut up, Roxie."

"Make me," she countered, her voice dropping an octave. She leaned in, her breath warm against my ear, a deliberate provocation.