Long-press a paragraph to send danmaku
The watch swings on its chain like a pendulum counting down to something I don't want to see.
I'm standing in front of the warehouse door, and Evan's blood is still wet inside the key's teeth. My hand won't stop shaking. Julian's behind me, leaning against the wall because he can barely stand. The curse mark's halfway to his heart now, black veins crawling under his shirt collar. Sera's got one hand on her gun and the other pressed to the gash in her side.
Nobody's saying what we're all thinking. That Evan left this here. That he knew I'd come.
"Open it," Julian says. His voice is rough, like every word costs him.
I want to tell him to shut up. I want to scream at him that my mother's key warned me not to open anything for a Cross, and here I am about to do exactly that. But Evan's blood is right there, dark red in the grooves, and I can't walk away.
I slide the key into the lock.
It turns smooth, too smooth, like the door's been waiting. The whole frame shudders. Then it swings open, and cold air rushes out, the kind that's been trapped for years.
Inside is a chapel.
Not a warehouse. A chapel. Stone floor, wooden pews cracked down the middle, stained glass so dirty I can't tell what it used to show. There's an altar at the far end, and on it sits a single black candle, already burning.
"What the hell," Sera mutters.
Julian pushes past me and nearly falls. I catch his arm, and he's burning up, fever-hot through his jacket. The curse is eating him alive.
"We need to get you out of here," I say.
"No." He pulls free and stumbles toward the altar. "This is it. This is where the vow happens."
I freeze. "What vow?"
He doesn't look at me. Just keeps walking, one hand on the pews for balance. "The one that keeps me alive. The one that gets your brother back."
Sera moves up beside me, and her gun's out now. "Cross, if you're about to do something stupid—"
"It's already done," Julian says. He reaches the altar and braces both hands on the edge. The black candle flickers, and I swear the flame turns blue for a second. "Nia. Get up here."
My legs don't want to move, but I make them. I walk down the aisle, past the broken pews and the smell of old smoke, and I stop two feet from him.
"What is this?" I ask.
He finally looks at me, and his eyes are tired. Not scared. Just tired. Like he's been carrying this for too long. "A binding vow. The only thing strong enough to override the pact mark. I marry you, the curse stops spreading. You get access to the vault under the clocktower. And the Court releases Evan."
I stare at him. "You're insane."
"Probably." He almost smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "But it's the only way. The Court needs a Vale bloodline lockbreaker married into the Cross family to open the vault legally. I need the vow to stabilize the mark. You need Evan. Everybody wins."
"Except we're lying," I say. My voice is shaking now, and I hate it. "We're not in love. We don't even like each other. You think some chapel vow is going to—"
"It doesn't care about love," Julian interrupts. "It cares about blood and intent. You want your brother. I want to live. That's enough."
Sera steps forward. "This is a terrible idea."
"Yeah, well, you got a better one?" Julian snaps. The curse mark pulses under his skin, and he flinches. "Because I've got maybe two hours before this thing hits my heart, and then none of us get what we want."
I look at Sera. She's watching me, and I can see it in her face. She thinks I should walk. She thinks I should leave Julian here and run.
But Evan's blood is still on the key in my pocket.
I turn back to Julian. "How does it work?"
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a folded piece of paper, old and yellow at the edges. "The vow's already written. We say the words, we mark the contract with blood, and the binding takes. Three minutes, tops."
"And then what?"
"Then the Court has to honor the deal. They release Evan. We open the vault. And I don't die." He holds out the paper. "That's it."
I don't take it. "What aren't you telling me?"
His jaw tightens. "Nia—"
"What. Aren't. You. Telling. Me."
He looks away. "The vow leaves a mark. On both of us. It's not just legal. It's physical. A brand that links us until the vault's open and the contract's fulfilled."
"A brand," I repeat.
He nods. "On your wrist. Same as mine. It'll burn when we're close to what we're looking for. The vault, the cure, whatever the hell's inside. It's a tracker. A leash."
I want to hit him. I want to grab Sera's gun and put a bullet in his knee and leave him here to bleed out on the altar. But Evan's face is in my head, pale and scared the last time I saw him, and I can't.
I hold out my hand. "Give me the paper."
Julian blinks. "You're serious."
"Give it to me before I change my mind."
He hands it over, and I unfold it. The words are in old script, half of them I don't recognize, but the meaning's clear enough. I, Nia Vale, take Julian Cross. I bind my blood to his. I open what was sealed. I take what was lost.
At the bottom, there's a line for blood.
"Do we need a knife?" I ask.
Julian pulls a small blade from his pocket, the kind you use to cut cigars. "Already got one."
Of course he does.
Sera moves closer. "Nia. You don't have to do this."
I look at her. "Yeah, I do."
She doesn't argue. Just steps back and crosses her arms, her gun still in her hand.
Julian takes the paper from me and sets it on the altar next to the black candle. The flame's still blue now, bright enough to make shadows crawl up the walls. He picks up the blade and cuts his palm, fast and clean. Blood wells up, dark red, and he presses it to the paper.
Then he holds the blade out to me.
I take it. The handle's warm from his hand. I stare at my palm for a second, then I cut. It stings, sharp and immediate, and blood runs down into my life line.
I press my hand to the paper, right next to Julian's mark.
The candle flares.
The flame shoots up three feet, blue and white and burning cold. The words on the paper start to glow, first red, then gold, then something I don't have a name for. My hand's stuck to the page like it's been glued, and I can feel Julian's pulse through the blood, fast and uneven.
"Say the vow," he whispers.
I don't know the words, but they come anyway, pulled out of me like something's been waiting for this my whole life. "I take your name. I take your blood. I take your curse."
Julian's voice joins mine. "I take your name. I take your blood. I take your curse."
The paper catches fire.
It burns from the center out, fast and silent, and the flame spreads to our hands. I try to pull back, but I can't move. The fire doesn't hurt. It's cold, ice-cold, and it wraps around my wrist like a bracelet.
Julian's staring at his own wrist, and I see it. A black line, thin and sharp, curling around his skin. The same line's forming on mine, burning itself in, and I bite down on a scream.
Then it stops.
The candle goes out. The paper's gone, nothing left but ash on the altar. My hand's free, and I stumble back, clutching my wrist. The mark's still there, a perfect black band, and it's warm. Not burning. Just warm.
Julian's breathing hard. The curse mark on his chest has stopped moving. It's still there, still black, but it's not crawling anymore.
"It worked," he says. He sounds surprised.
I look down at my wrist. The mark's starting to glow, faint and red, and it's pulling. Not hard. Just a tug, like someone's tied a string to my bone.
It's pointing east.
Sera steps up beside me. "Nia. Your wrist."
"I know." I turn, following the pull, and it gets stronger. The mark flares hot, bright enough to see through my sleeve.
It's pointing straight at the clocktower.
Julian sees it too. He's staring at his own wrist, and the mark there is glowing the same red. "The vault," he says. "It's under the clocktower. Just like the records said."
I swallow. My throat's dry. "Then we go."
"Now?" Sera asks.
"Now," Julian says. He's steadier now, the fever gone from his skin. The vow did something to him, something more than just stopping the curse. He looks alive again. Dangerous.
I hate him a little more for it.
We head for the door, and I'm halfway there when I hear it. A voice, low and crackling, like it's coming through a broken radio.
"Nia."
I stop. Turn.
There's nothing behind me. Just the empty chapel and the dead candle.
But I heard it. I know I did.
"Nia, come on," Sera calls from the doorway.
I follow her out, but the voice stays in my head, and I know whose it was.
Evan's.
And he sounded scared.