"Stop fighting me, Kaelen. You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be," Seth murmured, his voice a low vibration against the shell of my ear.
He had me pinned against the cold metal of the workbench, one hand locking both my wrists above my head. The grip wasn't just tight; it was absolute. He smelled like ozone and expensive rain, a scent that didn't belong in this grease-stained hole of a hideout.
"Get off me," I spat, twisting my shoulder. "You’re an Enforcer. Your job is to drag me back to Vera in a bag, not play bodyguard."
Seth shifted, his chest pressing firmly against my back. I could feel the steady, heavy thrum of his heart. He didn't budge. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath hot against my neck. "Vera wants you dead. I want the code. Those are two very different outcomes for you, aren't they?"
I stopped struggling. The logic was sound, which made it even more infuriating. "And why would a corporate lapdog like you care about a gutter-rat's glitch?"
"Because your 'glitch' is the only thing that can stop the rot in my head," he whispered. His tone had changed. The coldness was still there, but there was a hairline fracture in it—something that sounded like desperation. "Now, give me the contract. The real one. Not the fake encryption you tried to slide me earlier."
I let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "Oh, so you figured it out? You're faster than you look, Seth."
"I'm faster than anyone you've ever met," he countered, his grip tightening just a fraction. "The deal is this: you bind your plug-in to my neural signature. You become my eyes, my early warning system. In exchange, I keep Vera’s cleaners off your back until we find the cure. You get your revenge, I get my sanity. Simple."
"Simple?" I scoffed, tilting my head back to look at him. We were so close I could see the gold flecks in his dark irises. "You want me to literally plug my soul into yours? What happens when you decide to sell me out for a promotion?"
Seth’s gaze dropped to my lips for a split second before snapping back to my eyes. The tension between us was thick, electric, and completely dangerous. "If I betray you, the blood-contract fries my brain from the inside out. I'm betting my life on your loyalty, Kaelen. Don't make me regret it."
I felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the draft in the room. "I don't do loyalty. I do survival."
"Same thing in this city," he said. He released my wrists, but before I could bolt, he reached for the small, obsidian-colored needle on the table. "Turn around."
I didn't move. "Why the needle? I thought this was a digital handshake."
"The God-tier plug-in doesn't run on software alone," Seth explained, his voice dropping to a dangerous, silky register. He stepped around me, forcing me to face him. He was a wall of muscle and tailored fabric, dwarfing me. "It needs a biological anchor. Blood. A physical bridge between the hacker and the host."
He didn't wait for my permission. His hand shot out, cupping the back of my neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive dip just below my jaw. The heat of his palm sent a jolt through my spine.
"Stay still," he commanded.
I tried to pull away, but he leaned in, his body crowding mine, pinning me into the corner of the bench. "One twitch and I miss the vein. Then we both lose."
I glared at him, my breath hitching. "You're a real jerk, you know that?"
"I've been called worse by better people," he replied.
He pressed the needle into the side of my neck. I gasped, the sharp sting radiating through my nerves. But then, something shifted. The plug-in in my brain—the forbidden piece of code that predicted the next three seconds of reality—suddenly flared.
*Vision: Seth’s hand sliding from my neck to my waist. Vision: A sudden jolt of electricity. Vision: His eyes darkening.*
It happened exactly as the plug-in predicted. Seth’s hand shifted, pulling me flush against him. The physical contact was overwhelming. I could feel the heat of his body through his clothes, the hardness of his chest, the way his breathing had become just as ragged as mine.
"There," he breathed, his face inches from mine. "The link is established."
I could feel it now. A strange, humming connection in the back of my skull. I wasn't just seeing the world; I was feeling a ghost of his consciousness. Cold, disciplined, and currently... starving.
"What is this?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "I can feel... you."
"That's the price of the contract," Seth said, his gaze intense. He didn't let go. He didn't move. He just stood there, holding me in the silence of the hideout, the air between us vibrating with a tension that felt like it was about to snap. "Now we're tied. Your life is mine, and mine is yours. If you die, I go blind. If I die, you lose the plug-in."
"Great," I muttered, though I didn't push him away. "I'm stuck with a corporate hitman."
"You're stuck with the only man who can get you into the Cloud District," he corrected.
He started to pull back, his hand lingering on my waist for a second too long, a silent admission of the pull between us. I opened my mouth to say something—something biting, something to reclaim my pride—but the plug-in screamed.
*Vision: The front door exploding. Vision: A red laser dot on Seth's chest. Vision: A blade slicing through the air.*
"Get down!" I shrieked, throwing my entire weight into him.
We hit the floor in a tangle of limbs just as the heavy steel door of the hideout was blown off its hinges with a deafening roar. The shockwave rattled my teeth and sent shards of glass raining down on us.
Seth reacted instantly, rolling me behind a reinforced shipping crate and drawing his weapon in one fluid motion. He looked at me, his expression grim. "Who the hell is this? Vera doesn't send cleaners this early."
"I don't know!" I yelled over the ringing in my ears. "But they aren't here to arrest us!"
From the smoke and debris of the doorway, a figure emerged. Not a corporate soldier. This was something else. He wore a matte-black stealth suit that seemed to swallow the light, a jagged vibro-blade humming in his hand. He didn't speak. He didn't demand surrender. He just started walking toward us, his movements precise and predatory.
Seth checked his magazine, his jaw tight. "Third party. Someone else knows about the plug-in."
I scrambled to my feet, my heart hammering against my ribs. The plug-in flared again, showing me the next three seconds: the assassin leaping, the blade descending, and the blood spraying across the floor.
"Seth, he's going to jump!"
Seth didn't hesitate. He stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body, his gun leveled at the intruder. "I've got you. Just tell me where he's landing."
"Left! Six o'clock!"
As the assassin launched himself into the air, a piercing alarm suddenly tore through the room—not the hideout's alarm, but a high-frequency corporate signal. A voice boomed through the intercoms, cold and mocking. It was Vera.
"How touching," Vera's voice echoed, dripping with fake sweetness. "A blood-bond. I really should have charged you more for the entertainment, Seth. But now, let's see which one of you breaks first when I start killing the people on your list."
Seth froze. The assassin was mid-air, the blade inches from his shoulder, and the door was wide open to a nightmare.
"Vera, you bitch!" Seth roared, but he didn't fire. He was looking at the screen on the wall, where a list of names was scrolling by—names of people I thought were long gone.
"Wait," I whispered, staring at the screen. "That name... that's impossible."
At that moment, the assassin's blade descended, and the intercom cut to a scream that sounded exactly like—