Chapter 52 · You have less than a minute

She tore the poison-soaked sleeve away from her coat and bit down on the leather strap around her wrist. Her right hand had begun to stiffen. The fingers barely closed.

Cassian's voice dropped.

"You have less than a minute."

"I know."

"You need my control."

"I need an antidote."

"There is one beneath the rear bench."

Sylvia glanced over her shoulder. "You knew that and waited until now?"

"I was waiting for you to ask."

"You could have said something."

"You were busy insulting me."

"You enjoy that."

"More than I should."

The answer slipped through so cleanly that Sylvia almost missed it.

She stared at the empty space in front of her, as if Cassian might be standing there.

"What did you say?"

"The antidote is beneath the rear bench."

"No. The other thing."

"You are losing sensation in your arm."

"Cassian."

"Move."

The hounds slammed into the carriage.

The frame shook. Claws scraped across the roof. One beast shoved its head through the broken window, pale eyes fixed on Sylvia.

She grabbed the iron hook beside the seat and drove it into the hound's shoulder. It snapped at her wrist.