Chapter 9 · Daddy's Ghost Card

"Drop the card, Cole. Now."

Eve’s voice wasn't a suggestion. She had me pinned against the peeling wallpaper of the safehouse, her forearm pressed hard against my windpipe. The air was thin, smelling of her expensive, sharp perfume and the metallic tang of the Pact Deck vibrating in my hand.

I gasped, my fingers tightening around the card. The image on the face was still swirling—a blurred, charcoal sketch of a man who looked exactly like the ghost I’d been chasing for ten years.

"It's him," I managed to choke out, my boots scuffing the floor as I tried to twist away. "Eve, it's my father. He's in the deck."

"It's a lure, you idiot!" She shifted her weight, driving her shoulder into my chest to keep me locked. Her eyes were wide, flashing with a mix of panic and something that looked dangerously like pity. "The Council doesn't leave breadcrumbs. They leave bait. You think they just handed you a direct line to the man who vanished? This is a trap designed to bleed your memories dry."

I glared at her, the heat of her body pressing into mine. We were too close—