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The lock clicked open upstairs.
Evelyn yanked her hand back. The gold print on Nolan's chest pulsed once, then dimmed to a faint outline under his torn shirt. He was still breathing. That was more than she'd expected ten minutes ago.
"Get up," she said.
Nolan didn't move. His eyes tracked her face, then dropped to her burned palm. The skin was blistered in the shape of his sternum, red and black around the edges. She flexed her fingers. It hurt like hell, but she'd had worse.
"You put a marriage pact on me," he said. His voice was steadier now, but there was something raw underneath it. "Do you even know what that means?"
"I know it means you're not dying in my basement." She grabbed her jacket off the hook and shoved her arms through the sleeves. Her whole body was shaking. The black fire had recognized her. It knew her mother's name. It knew Theo.
Footsteps overhead. Two sets, maybe three. Heavy boots.
"Evelyn." Nolan pushed himself up on one elbow. The movement made him wince, but he kept his eyes on her. "If the Guard finds you with me, they'll kill you."
"Thanks for the tip." She pulled the knife from her belt and checked the hallway. The basement had two exits: the stairs she'd come down, and a service chute that led to the alley behind the old factory district. The chute was narrow and it stank like dead rats, but it didn't have armed guards at the top of it.
Nolan was watching her. "You don't understand. My family—"
"Your family tried to kill you." She turned back to him. "That curse didn't crawl into your chest on its own. Someone put it there. Someone who knows what a Morrow is."
His jaw tightened. For a second she thought he'd argue. Then he looked down at the gold mark on his skin and said nothing.
The door at the top of the stairs rattled. A man's voice, clipped and cold: "Ground floor clear. Checking the basement."
Evelyn crossed the room in three steps and hauled Nolan upright. He was heavier than he looked, all dense muscle under the blood-soaked shirt. He sucked in a breath but didn't make a sound.
"Can you walk?"
"I can walk." He caught her wrist. His grip was weak, but deliberate. "If we run, they'll shoot you on sight. If you let me talk to them—"
"They'll arrest me and put you back in whatever house just tried to burn you alive." She shook him off. "I'm not betting my life on your family's mercy."
"Then bet it on mine."
She laughed. It came out sharp and bitter. "I don't even know you."
"You know I'm the only reason you're getting past the Guard."
The footsteps were halfway down the stairs now. Evelyn looked at Nolan. His face was pale, his breath coming shallow, but his eyes were clear. He meant it. He thought he could walk her out of here with his name and his bloodline and whatever was left of the Kade family's reputation.
She thought about her mother's face the last time she'd seen her. She thought about Theo's voice on the other end of a dead phone line, six years ago, saying someone was at the door.
She thought about the black fire calling her Morrow's daughter like it had been waiting.
"No," she said.
She grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him toward the chute. He tried to pull away. The gold mark flared. Black fire cracked across his collarbone, thin as a razor, and he choked on a sound that might've been her name.
Evelyn stopped. The fire was back. Not the flood from before, just a thread, but it was growing. She could see it spreading under his skin, tracing the veins in his neck.
"Don't," Nolan said. His voice was shaking now. "Don't step back."
She looked at her hand. The burn was still smoking.
"What happens if I do?"
"It kills me." He met her eyes. "The pact tied you to the curse. You leave, it finishes what it started."
The door at the top of the stairs slammed open. Boots on concrete, fast and synchronized. A woman's voice, sharp with authority: "Evelyn Morrow. Hands where we can see them."
Evelyn didn't move. She was still holding Nolan's shirt. The black fire was at his throat now, a thin line crawling toward his jaw. His pulse was hammering under it.
She'd walked into this job because Mara Quinn had promised her enough money to disappear. She'd put her hand on a dying man because that was the work, and the work paid. She hadn't signed up for a marriage pact or a death sentence or whatever the hell this was.
But she'd signed up for Theo. She'd signed up for answers. And the black fire knew something.
"Sorry," she said.
She shoved Nolan into the chute.
He fell backward with a startled grunt, arms flailing for the edges. Evelyn grabbed the handle and swung herself in after him. The chute was steep and slick with old grease. She hit Nolan's shoulder, and they both went sliding down into the dark.
Behind them, the woman's voice again, louder now: "Morrow is armed and running. She has the Kade heir. Shoot her on sight."
The chute spat them out into the alley. Evelyn hit the ground first, rolled, and came up with her knife in her hand. Nolan landed hard on his side and stayed there, breath coming in short gasps. The black fire was worse now. It covered half his neck and part of his jaw, thin lines branching like cracks in glass.
She knelt beside him and pressed her burned palm to his chest.
The gold flared. The black fire hissed and pulled back, retreating under his skin. Nolan's breath evened out. He opened his eyes and looked at her.
"You're insane," he said.
"You're welcome." She pulled him upright. "Can you run?"
"I can try."
"Good enough."
She hauled him toward the mouth of the alley. Behind them, the chute rattled. Voices echoed down from the basement. The Guard was coming.
Nolan stumbled, caught himself, and kept moving. He was favoring his left side, and his face was the color of old paper, but he was on his feet. That was something.
Evelyn glanced back once. The factory district was a maze of old buildings and dead-end alleys, but the Guard knew it as well as she did. They had minutes, maybe less.
"Where are we going?" Nolan asked.
"Somewhere your family can't find us."
"That doesn't exist."
"Then I guess we'll make it up as we go."
They reached the end of the alley. Evelyn stopped at the corner and checked the street. Empty, for now. The market district was six blocks east, and Mara's contact house was buried somewhere in the middle of it. If Mara was smart, she'd already burned the address. If she wasn't, Evelyn was going to burn it for her.
She turned back to Nolan. He was leaning against the wall, one hand pressed to the gold mark on his chest. The black fire was quiet, but she could see the faint shimmer of it under his skin, waiting.
"What did your family do to my mother?" she asked.
Nolan looked at her. For a long moment he didn't answer. Then he said, "I don't know. But my father did."
"Your father's dead."
"I know." His voice was flat. "Someone in my house killed him three days ago. Same curse. Same fire." He pushed off the wall and met her eyes. "You want answers? So do I. But we're not getting them if the Guard puts a bullet in your head."
Evelyn opened her mouth. Closed it. The street was still empty, but she could hear the distant wail of a siren, growing louder.
"Fine," she said. "But if you slow me down, I'm leaving you."
"No, you're not." Nolan stepped past her into the street. "The pact won't let you."
She hated that he was right.
They ran.