"Get your hands off me!"
Vivian’s voice echoed through the shattered atrium of the Grand Plaza Mall, but she wasn't shouting at me. She was yelling at the two armored goons trying to drag her away from the edge of the collapsing mezzanine.
I stood ten feet away, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. My hands were shaking, and not just because of the cold. The collar around my neck was pulsing a dull, warning red.
*Kill the target,* Silas’s voice hissed in my earpiece. *The structural integrity is at ten percent. One good gravity surge and the whole ceiling drops on her. Do it now, Fallstar, or the contract is void.*
"I can't," I whispered, my voice cracking.
"What was that?" Silas snapped. "You're not paid to have a conscience, Tess. You're paid to be a disaster. Drop the floor. Now."
I looked at Vivian. She was pinned against a jagged piece of reinforced concrete, her golden hero suit torn at the shoulder, eyes wide and fierce. Even covered in dust and blood, she looked like something out of a damn painting. She looked at me—not with fear, but with this annoying, stubborn hope that I was actually going to help.
"Tess!" she screamed, her voice strained. "The pillar! It's going!"
I didn't think. I just moved.
I lunged forward, slamming my palms against the air. I didn't push the gravity down—I pulled it. I yanked the local field upward with everything I had, fighting the natural pull of the earth. For a second, the massive slab of concrete hovering over Vivian stopped mid-air, trembling under the invisible pressure of my will.
"Are you insane?" Silas roared in my ear. "You're saving her!"
"Shut up!" I yelled back, my teeth gritting so hard I thought they'd crack.
I felt the burn in my veins, that sickening heat that always came when I pushed my powers too far. My vision blurred. The slab groaned, a sound like a dying giant, and then it shifted.
I didn't have enough strength to hold it. Not for long.
I dove.
I tackled Vivian just as the world decided to give up. We hit the marble floor hard, sliding across the slick surface as a thunderous crash erupted behind us. Dust exploded in a white wall, choking the air, turning the bright mall into a gray tomb.
For a moment, there was only the sound of ringing ears and the smell of pulverized stone. Then, I felt it.
Vivian was pinned beneath me. Her chest was heaving, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps that brushed against my neck. I could feel the heat radiating off her skin, the frantic beat of her heart mirroring mine. My hands were planted on either side of her head, my fingers digging into the debris.
We were so close I could see the gold flecks in her irises. I could smell the ozone and expensive perfume, now mixed with the metallic tang of blood.
"Why?" she whispered. Her voice was barely a thread. "You're... you're the one who caused this. Why save me?"
I stared at her, my mouth dry. I wanted to tell her I wasn't the monster she thought I was. I wanted to tell her that the collar on my neck was a leash and I was just a dog in a fancy suit. But I couldn't. If I spoke the truth, Silas would trigger the collar, and I'd be a brain-dead husk before I could blink.
"I just... don't like seeing things break," I managed to mutter.
Vivian’s eyes narrowed. She didn't move. Her gaze dropped to my lips for a split second—a tiny, flickering moment of tension that made my stomach flip—before she looked back up, searching my face for the lie.
"You're a terrible villain," she breathed.
"And you're a terrible damsel," I shot back, though there was no bite in it.
I started to push myself up, but the movement brought us even closer. My chest brushed hers, and I felt a jolt of electricity that had nothing to do with gravity. Her hand came up, not to push me away, but to grip my forearm. Her fingers were cold, but her grip was desperate.
"Stay," she whispered. "Just for a second. I can't... I can't breathe."
I froze. I should have run. I should have disappeared into the dust and gone back to my shitty apartment to count my dwindling credits. But I stayed. I let my weight settle slightly, shielding her from the falling grit, my heart racing so fast it felt like it might burst through my ribs.
"You're shaking," she noted, her voice softer now, almost tender.
"It's cold," I lied.
"Liar," she murmured.
Suddenly, the collar around my neck flared. A sharp, searing heat spiked through my nerves, forcing a gasp out of me. I jerked away, clutching at my throat, the sudden movement breaking the spell.
"Tess!" Silas's voice was no longer a hiss; it was a scream. "Get out of there! The cleanup crew is moving in. If they find you with her, you're dead. Move!"
I scrambled to my feet, my legs feeling like jelly. I looked down at Vivian. She was still lying there, staring up at me with an expression I couldn't decode—something between suspicion and longing.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice regaining its strength. "Really?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. I turned and bolted, leaping over a pile of rubble and disappearing into the gray haze just as the first sirens began to wail in the distance.
I didn't stop running until I reached the alleyway three blocks away. I slumped against a brick wall, gasping for air, my chest burning. I reached up to touch the collar, which was still humming with a low, menacing vibration.
"You're on thin ice, Fallstar," Silas said, his tone now dangerously calm. "You saved the target. That's a breach of contract. I'm docking your pay for the month. And if you do it again? I'll let the collar do the talking."
"Go to hell," I spat, sliding down the wall until I hit the pavement.
I reached into my pocket and felt something. A piece of fabric.
I pulled it out. It was a small scrap of my own cloak—black, reinforced synth-silk—that must have torn off when I tackled her. It was a tiny thing, barely two inches long.
I thought I had it. But then I remembered the way Vivian had looked at me. The way she had gripped my arm.
I didn't know it then, but back at the mall, Vivian Cross wasn't looking at the rubble. She was staring at a different piece of black fabric clutched in her hand, her eyes narrowing as she traced the unique weave of the material.
She didn't call for the medics immediately. She didn't even stand up. She just held the scrap up to the dim light filtering through the dust, her voice a low, dangerous whisper.
"I've seen this before."