Chapter 6 · Sump Water Pact

"Get off me!" Vesper drove her elbow into my ribs and slammed the muzzle under my jaw.

The shot never came. Her finger jerked against the trigger, and the tether punched the pain straight through my skull.

I hit the concrete on one knee. She staggered with me, one hand clamped over her temple.

"Don't shoot," I rasped. "Unless you want your brain cooked with mine."

"You don't get to give me orders." Vesper pressed the pistol harder against my throat. Her breath brushed my cheek, hot and sharp with panic. "You grabbed the blade. You took the hit. Why are you still standing?"

"Because I'm stubborn."

"Because you're infected."

A burst of white static flashed behind my eyes. I saw her pain before I felt my own. The live tether carried everything now. Her pulse. Her fear. The hard little spike of rage she kept buried under that cold corporate face.

Then the sewer shook again.

A section of floor behind us dropped with a grinding crack. Pipes snapped. Black water rushed across the concrete, dragging chunks of metal into the open shaft.

Vesper shoved herself up and aimed down the passage. "Boris.