Chapter 7 · The King Under the Tracks

"Your brother's awake."

Kane said it like he was offering me coffee, not the one thing I'd been clawing for since I signed that contract. I stopped halfway down the metal stairs, grip tight on the railing.

"Where."

"Quarantine wing. East tunnel, past the old red line tracks." He didn't look back. Just kept walking, boots echoing off concrete. "He's not stable."

"You think I care about stable? You've had him for two days and didn't tell me."

"I told you when he could talk."

I caught up and shoved past him, shoulder hitting his arm. He didn't move. Didn't even flinch. I hated that.

"Don't walk ahead of me down here," Kane said.

"Or what."

"Or you'll get lost, and I'll have to carry you back."

The tunnel opened into something wider, older. Train tracks split off in three directions, rails rusted orange under the flicker of work lights strung along the ceiling. People moved through the space like ants, hauling crates, checking junction boxes, speaking in low voices that didn't carry. A few looked up when Kane passed. No one looked at me.

"They know who I am," I said.

"They know you're mine."

"I'm not.