"Don't you fucking move that hand, Vesper."
Kael's fingers lock around my wrist mid-air and slam it back against the wall. Hard.
My knife clatters to the floor. The whole bunker shakes as the city sirens rip through the concrete above us.
"Let go of me," I snap. "Or I swear I'll bite your throat out."
"Try it," he says, his voice low and flat. "And you'll bleed out before you get your teeth in."
His body pins mine. Chest to chest. One hand still crushing my wrist, the other pressed against my ribs where the serum is burning like acid under my skin.
The lights overhead flash red. Again. Again. The city-wide alert is screaming.
"City lockdown initiated. Level Black. All exits sealed," the bunker AI drones over us. "Biometric manhunt in progress."
I twist. I can't get leverage. His knee is between my legs, his weight holding me down, and I hate how steady he is while I'm shaking apart.
"Get off," I hiss. "Get off me, you corporate psycho."
"No." His eyes drop to my neck, to the vein pulsing there. "You're hemorrhaging. Your mods are rejecting the serum. If I let go, you seize."
"I don't need your help."
"You need exactly my help. That's the point."
The sirens get louder. Through the tiny slit window near the ceiling, I can see the search drones sweeping the Neon Slums. Red beams cutting through smog. Hundreds of them.
"What did you do?" I snarl. "What did you trigger?"
"I triggered nothing," Kael says. "You did. Your agency just put a city-wide kill order on you. Congratulations. You're famous."
He finally lets go of my wrist just enough to flick his holo-watch. A projection explodes in the air between us.
WANTED: VESPER - GENE-MOD CLASS A - DEAD OR ALIVE. REWARD: 50 MILLION CREDITS.
My face. My old agency ID photo. Stamped with a traitor mark.
My stomach drops.
"They burned me," I whisper. "They actually burned me."
"They didn't just burn you." Kael swipes again. Another file pops up. "They sold your genetic code to every hunter in the lower city. Every junkie with a knife is looking for you right now. You walk out that door, you die in thirty seconds."
"So what? You gonna hide me in your basement forever? That your plan, heir boy?"
"My plan is to keep my investment alive." He leans in. His breath is hot against my cheek. He smells like cold metal and expensive cologne and it makes my head spin. "And right now, you're a bad investment. You're unstable."
"I'm not unstable, I'm pissed!" I shove at his chest. He doesn't budge. "You dosed me with that shit without asking! You branded me like a dog!"
"I saved your life," he says, calm as ice. "You were flatlining in the slums. That serum was the only thing that could reboot your system."
"You call this saving?" I yank my collar down, showing the fresh black veins crawling up my neck where his serum went in. "I'm synced to you now. I can feel your fucking heartbeat in my head!"
"Good," he says. "Then you know I'm not lying."
I am shaking. I hate it. My hands won't stop. Rage is pouring through me so fast I can't breathe right.
"You think you own me now?" I spit. "You think I'm your private hound?"
"That's exactly what you are," he says. No smile. No joke. "Until you pay off your debt."
He steps back. Just an inch. But his hand stays on my ribs, palm hot through my torn shirt. Checking the damage. His thumb presses just under my sternum and I flinch.
"Does it hurt here?" he asks.
"Don't touch me."
"Answer the question, Vesper."
"Yes," I bite out. "It hurts everywhere, asshole. Happy?"
His jaw tightens. For a second, something flickers in his eyes. Not pity. Something tighter. Annoyance, maybe. Or worry he won't admit.
"Your mods are fighting the protocol," he mutters. "We need to bind it. Now. Or you'll crash again in an hour and this time you won't wake up."
"Bind it how?"
He lets go of me completely and walks to the steel case on the table. He pops it open. Inside is a second vial. Black liquid, glowing faintly blue at the core. And a contract pad.
"The Forbidden Protocol," he says. "Full genetic binding. My signal locks your code. Your code stabilizes my signal. We share vitals, location, pain. You can't die without me knowing. I can't be poisoned without you feeling it."
"You're insane," I say. "That's a leash."
"It's a contract," he corrects. "With terms."
"What terms?"
"You work for me. Exclusively. You hunt who I tell you to hunt. You kill who I tell you to kill. In return, I keep you alive, I keep the hunters off you, and when the debt is paid, I cut the link and you walk away free. With your record wiped."
"And if I say no?"
"Then you seize on this floor in the next forty minutes and I watch you die," he says, blunt. "And I lose a very expensive asset. So don't say no."
I stare at the vial. My hands are still shaking. My vision blurs at the edges. He's right. I can feel it. The cold creeping back in. The serum from last night isn't enough. It's tearing me apart from the inside.
"That's not a choice," I say. "That's coercion."
"It's business," he says. "Welcome to the corporate throne, Vesper."
I laugh. It comes out as a snarl. "You really think I'll just sign? Just like that?"
"I think you want to live long enough to kill the people who put that bounty on your head," he says. His voice drops. "Don't you?"
That hits. Hard.
He knows. Of course he knows.
"Who?" I ask. "Who do you want me to kill first?"