Chapter 19 · Her First Drop of Blood

"Don't move." Iris's voice cut through the silence before I could blink the ghost's last breath out of my eyes.

I looked down. The blood mark on my chest wasn't fading. It was spreading.

Thin lines crawled under my skin like cracks in glass, branching out from the center where the ghost had pressed its palm. Dark red. Almost black at the edges. I could feel it moving, cold and sharp, like something alive burrowing through muscle.

"What the hell is this?" I said.

"The collection mark," Iris said. She was standing three feet away, arms crossed, but her eyes were locked on my chest. "The ghost gave up its debt, but the debt didn't go anywhere. It just transferred."

"To me."

"To you."

I pressed a hand over the mark. The skin was hot, fever-hot, and the lines pulsed under my palm like a second heartbeat. "So what, I owe somebody now?"

"No." She stepped closer, and I caught the faint smell of smoke and something sharper—iron, maybe blood. "You're holding it. The debt's inside you until we close it.