Chapter 7 · Echoes in the Kill Code

Kade's hand locked around my wrist before I could reach the door.

We'd made it three blocks from the clinic, zigzagging through alleys that smelled like piss and burnt oil. My lungs were raw. My shift bag kept slamming into my hip. And now Kade had stopped moving.

"Let go," I said.

He didn't. His fingers were cold. Not corpse cold, but close. The kind of cold that comes from a body that doesn't waste energy on heat.

"Kade."

His eyes weren't tracking me. They were fixed on something past my shoulder, something I couldn't see. His jaw was tight. His other hand had curled into a fist.

I knew that look. I'd seen it in the transport wreck, right before he tore the restraints off.

"Kade, look at me."

Nothing.

I grabbed his face with my free hand. His skin was cool under my palm. "Hey. You're not back there. You're here. With me."

His eyes snapped to mine. For a second I thought I'd pulled him out of it. Then his grip tightened and I felt the bones in my wrist grind together.

"Shit—Kade, stop—"

"I can't." His voice came out flat. Dead. "New directive."

My stomach dropped.