Chapter 23 · Someone Waiting at the Old Chapel

"Stop here."

Adrian cuts the engine two blocks from the old chapel. His hand stays on the wheel, knuckles pale, blood dried along his sleeve.

"You said the chapel was empty," I tell him.

"I said it was abandoned."

"That's not the same thing."

"No. It isn't."

He gets out before I can argue. I follow, one hand pressed over the mark on my chest. His blood sealed it, but the seal feels too tight under my skin, like something's trying to claw its way out.

North District is all dead warehouses and cracked streets. No lights. No traffic. No witnesses.

Adrian slows beside me.

"You good?"

"I'm walking, aren't I?"

"That's not what I asked."

"Then ask a better question."

His mouth tightens. He hasn't fed since giving me his blood. Every step costs him now, but he still keeps himself between me and the empty street.

The chapel waits at the end of it, roof half-collapsed and windows nailed shut with rotten plywood.

The front door hangs open.

Adrian's fingers close around my wrist. "We go back."

"You brought me here."

"The door wasn't open before."

"Then somebody's inviting us in."

"Lynn.