Chapter 8 · Steal a Dead Man's Chrome

“Get out of my head!”

Cael’s hand clamped over my mouth before the words could turn into a scream.

His other arm locked around my waist and dragged me behind the dead courier’s armored van. A burst of blue rounds chewed through the van’s side panel. Metal screamed beside my ear. Cael pulled me lower, putting his body between mine and the street.

“Quiet,” he breathed against my hair. “They can track your voice.”

I bit his palm.

He hissed and loosened his grip. “Seriously?”

“You put your hand over my mouth, you get bitten.”

“Noted.” He glanced around the van. “Can you stand?”

“I can run.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

Another round punched through the van. A hot shard of metal grazed my cheek.

I touched the cut and looked at the blood on my fingers. The blood was mine. The sharp stab in Cael’s ribs was not.

He had taken the first hit for me. I’d felt it through the ghost-bind before I saw him move. A flash of pain had ripped across my chest, followed by his heartbeat slamming hard against my own.

Now both pulses were racing in the same rhythm.

“Your side,” I said.