Chapter 17 · The Caged Sparrow

"Sparrow."

The word hit me before I could see her face.

Mom used to call me that. Only Mom. Not Nora. Not even Eli when he was little and copying everything she said.

The woman stepped into the thin emergency light spilling from the corridor behind us. Black metal collar around her throat, electrodes soldered into the seams. Her skin was too pale, like she hadn't seen real sun in years. But her eyes were sharp, dark, focused.

On me.

"Who the hell are you?" I said.

Kane moved in front of me, one hand already pushing me back. His other hand was clawed, half-shifted, still shaking from whatever he'd barely held down two minutes ago.

"Lark," he said. Low. Careful. "You shouldn't be out."

"And you shouldn't be here," Lark said. Her voice was hoarse, like she hadn't used it in days. "But here we all are."

She looked past Kane. Straight at me.

"Let me see her."

"No," Kane said.

"I'm not asking you, beast king." Lark's mouth twitched into something that might've been a smile once. "I'm asking the girl with the mark."

My wrist throbbed under the bandage.