Long-press a paragraph to send danmaku
Evelyn shoved Nolan through the busted side door of an old loading depot before the next Guard patrol turned the corner.
He hit the wall shoulder-first and made a rough sound through his teeth.
“Careful,” he snapped.
She stared at him. “You want careful? Try not bleeding black fire all over my coat.”
Outside, boots slapped wet pavement. Three sets. Maybe four.
Nolan pushed away from the wall like he hadn’t almost folded in half. His expensive shirt was ruined, dark at the ribs and burned through at the chest. The mark between his collarbones glowed under the blood. Not red. Not gold.
Black.
It pulsed once.
He sucked in a breath so sharp it sounded like somebody had stabbed him.
Evelyn grabbed his wrist before he could drop. “Move.”
“I can walk.”
“Then walk faster.”
The depot smelled like rust, oil, and old rain trapped in concrete. Half the ceiling had collapsed years ago. Moonlight leaked through broken panels overhead, striping the floor in pale bars.
Nolan limped after her anyway.
They crossed behind a row of dead forklifts and a mountain of dented steel drums. Evelyn kept one hand on the knife at her thigh. Her other hand stayed locked around Nolan’s wrist.
She hated that part.
Not because his skin was warm. Too warm, actually. Fever-hot.
Because every time she loosened her grip, the curse under his shirt woke up.
The black mark tightened over his chest like something breathing there.
He noticed her looking.
“You can stop checking,” he said. “I’m still alive.”
“For now.”
“That supposed to comfort me?”
“No.”
A whistle cut through the night outside.
Both of them froze.
A Guard voice called from the street. “Search the warehouses. Kade was taken this way.”
Taken.
Evelyn almost laughed. It came out ugly and quiet.
Nolan looked at her. “What?”
“They put out a kidnapping notice in under an hour.”
“My family has people everywhere.”
“Yeah. I noticed when they put a kill order on my face.”
His jaw tightened.
“Don’t,” she said.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t give me that look like this wasn’t your fault.”
“It isn’t.”
“Oh, great. Even better. Then I guess the city just decided to hunt me for sport.”
Nolan took one step closer. He had to brace a hand against a steel drum to do it, but he still managed to look down at her like he owned the air around him.
“You tied yourself to me.”
Evelyn’s laugh died.
“I did not.”
“The pact is on both of us.”
“I know it’s on both of us.” She shoved a finger against his chest, stopping just short of the black burn. “I also know I didn’t walk into that room planning to marry a half-dead Kade heir.”
His eyes went cold.
“Watch your mouth.”
“There it is.” She leaned in. “That Kade thing. You’re dying in a warehouse, people are trying to shoot us both, and you still think you get to tell me what to do.”
For a second, he didn’t answer.
Then the black mark on his chest flared.
Nolan jerked hard enough to knock the drum over.
It crashed across the concrete.
“Shit,” Evelyn breathed.
Outside, the patrol went quiet.
A Guard shouted, “Inside!”
Evelyn caught Nolan under the arm and dragged him toward the far end of the depot. He was heavier than he looked. Not broad-shouldered rich-boy heavy. Dead-weight heavy.
His boots scraped the floor.
“Come on,” she hissed. “Come on, damn it.”
“I’m moving.”
“You’re being carried.”
“That’s different.”
“It’s really not.”
There was an old service hatch behind a stack of broken pallets. Mara had shown it to Evelyn once, years ago, back when Evelyn still believed the broker only gave favors because she liked her.
Cute.
Nobody in the guild did anything for free.
Evelyn kicked aside a loose board and dropped to one knee. Her fingers found the rusted latch.
Locked.
Of course it was locked.
Behind them, the depot door groaned open.
“Guard!” somebody called. “Show yourself!”
Nolan swayed beside her.
“Move,” he said.
She looked over her shoulder. “What?”
“You go. I’ll slow them down.”
Evelyn blinked.
Then she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down close enough that he had to look at her.
“Are you stupid?”
“No.”
“Because that sounded stupid.”
“They want me alive.”
“Maybe. They want me dead. And if I leave, your little chest demon eats you before they can carry you home.”
His face changed at that. Just a little.
Not fear. Nolan Kade probably didn’t let himself do fear where anyone could see it.
But he knew she was right.
The curse had already proved it.
She let go of his shirt and pulled a thin metal pick from her sleeve.
“Hold still.”
“I am holding still.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m not.”
“You are literally shaking against me.”
His mouth flattened.
Evelyn shoved the pick into the lock.
The latch had cheap pins, old springs. Easy work. Her hands were less steady than she wanted, though. Nolan’s heat pressed against her side. Every breath he took came too fast.
The patrol spread through the warehouse.
Boots. Flashlights. The dry click of spell rifles charging.
“Evelyn,” Nolan said quietly.
“Not now.”
“You need to hear me.”
“Nope.”
“My uncle—”
The lock snapped open.
Evelyn pulled the hatch wide.
A narrow maintenance tunnel waited below. Black water ran along the bottom. It smelled like dead rats and chemical runoff.
“After you,” she said.
Nolan looked down into it. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“You first, Your Highness.”
He gave her a look that could’ve frozen beer.
Then a beam of white Guard-light swept over the broken pallets.
Nolan dropped into the tunnel.
He landed badly.
Evelyn heard his breath catch.
“Still alive?” she whispered.
His voice came up from the dark. “Unfortunately.”
She climbed down after him and pulled the hatch shut over their heads.
The tunnel swallowed them whole.
For the first thirty seconds, neither of them spoke.
Water soaked into Evelyn’s boots. The ceiling forced Nolan to duck under pipes every few steps. Somewhere above them, Guards crossed the warehouse floor. Their voices came through the metal in ugly little pieces.
“Find the witch.”
“Orders say kill on sight.”
“Don’t damage Kade.”
Evelyn kept walking.
Nolan’s hand closed around her elbow.
“Stop.”
She did, mostly because his fingers suddenly felt wrong.
Cold.
His fever-hot skin had gone cold.
“Nolan?”
He stood bent under a pipe, head lowered. Water dripped from his hair onto his face. His breathing had stopped.
Not slowed.
Stopped.
Evelyn spun toward him. “Hey.”
His eyes lifted.
They weren’t his.
The gray had gone flat and black around the pupils. His mouth opened, but the voice that came out didn’t belong to him.
“Open the house.”
Evelyn’s stomach dropped.
The tunnel walls shook.
Not from the Guards.
From something moving inside the dark.
Nolan grabbed her wrist hard enough to hurt. His fingers locked around the pact mark on her palm.
Black light rushed under her skin.
She gasped.
“No,” she said. “No, no. Let go.”
His grip only tightened.
The water around their boots started to steam.
Then the first ghost crawled out of Nolan’s chest.
It came through the black burn in strips.
A woman’s hand first. Pale fingers. Burned nails. Then an arm, elbow bent the wrong way, dragging itself over Nolan’s shirt while he stood there shaking.
Evelyn stumbled back.
The thing pulled harder.
A face pushed through his ribs.
Not solid. Not alive. Just smoke, ash, and a mouth stretched open in a scream she couldn’t hear.
Nolan made a broken sound.
His knees hit the water.
“Evelyn,” he choked.
His real voice. Barely there.
She looked at the hatch above them.
One climb. One sprint through the warehouse. Maybe she could make it out the far door before the curse got her too.
Maybe.
Her body wanted to run so badly her legs twitched.
A Kade had taken everything from her mother. A Kade name had been stamped on debt papers, guild warrants, every locked door she’d ever hit trying to find her brother.
And now one of them had her hand trapped in his.
“Let me go,” she said.
Nolan’s eyes found hers through the pain. “Can’t.”
“Try harder.”
The ghost tore another inch out of his chest.
Blood ran down his stomach.
Not red. Black at first, then dark wine-red when it hit the water.
Nolan’s fingers slipped against her palm.
“I don’t want to die here,” he whispered.
That did it.
Not the heir thing. Not the bargain. Not the stupid marriage pact burning between them.
Just that.
I don’t want to die here.
Evelyn dropped in front of him.
“Fine,” she muttered. “Fine. But if this kills me, I’m haunting you.”
His mouth twitched once. Could’ve been a smile. Could’ve been another spasm.
She pulled her knife.
Nolan stared at the blade. “What are you doing?”
“Fixing your mess.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s not for you.”
She sliced across the heel of her hand.
Pain hit hot and clean.
Blood welled fast, bright against her skin.
Nolan’s eyes widened.
“Evelyn, don’t—”
She slapped her bleeding palm over his hand.
The pact mark lit up.
Gold this time.
The tunnel exploded with light.
Every pipe overhead screamed. Water jumped off the floor in hard little bursts. The ghost clawing out of Nolan’s chest turned toward Evelyn.
Its mouth opened wider.
She felt it grab for her.
Not her body.
Her memories.
A small boy crying behind a locked door.
Her mother screaming, Run, Evie.
A man’s ringed hand dragging her across a kitchen floor.
Evelyn snarled and shoved back.
“Get out of my head.”
The ghost lunged.
Nolan caught it.
Not with his hands.
With a sound ripped from somewhere deep in his chest.
The black fire surged around him, wrapping over his shoulders and throat. For one awful second, Evelyn thought it had won.
Then Nolan looked straight at her.
“Don’t let go,” he said.
His voice was raw. Human. Terrified.
Evelyn tightened her grip.
“Yeah,” she said. “I heard you.”
The ghost screamed.
This time she heard it.
The sound punched through the tunnel and blew every light fixture overhead. Glass rained down. Nolan jerked backward, but Evelyn held on.
Blood ran between their fingers.
Gold crawled over black.
The ghost’s face split apart like smoke in a hard wind.
Then it was gone.
Nolan collapsed against her.
Evelyn nearly went down with him.
For a few seconds, they stayed kneeling in the filthy water, both breathing too hard.
Her palm burned like somebody had pressed it to a stove.
Nolan’s forehead rested against her shoulder.
“You still alive?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
Her heart kicked.
“Nolan.”
“I’m thinking,” he muttered.
“Oh, thank God. I thought you died.”
“I almost did.”
“Don’t get dramatic.”
He lifted his head slowly. The black around his eyes was gone. His face had gone pale under the grime, though, and there was blood at the corner of his mouth.
“You cut yourself for me.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“You used blood binding.”
“I used the only thing I had.”
“That wasn’t a basic binding.”
Evelyn stared at him. “You want to explain that sentence?”
Nolan looked at their joined hands.
His thumb brushed over the blood on her knuckles.
Too gentle. Too familiar.
She pulled her hand away.
His expression shut down fast.
“There are things my father kept from me,” he said.
“Funny. There are things you keep from me too.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“By lying?”
“By not saying things until I know what they mean.”
“That’s the same thing.”
Above them, a distant bang echoed through the pipework.
Guards were still searching.
Nolan pushed himself upright, slower this time. “Mara’s safehouse. How far?”
Evelyn wiped blood on her coat. “Twenty minutes if we don’t get shot.”
“And if we do?”
“Then less.”
He gave her a tired, annoyed look.
Good. Annoyed meant breathing.
They moved again.
The maintenance tunnel ran under three blocks of the factory district before it opened behind an abandoned laundromat. By then, Evelyn’s hand had stopped dripping, but the cut still pulsed with every heartbeat.
Nolan kept looking at it.
She caught him the third time.
“What?”
“You should wrap that.”
“You have a handkerchief?”
“No.”
“Then stop staring.”
He took off his ruined overshirt anyway. “Use this.”
“It probably costs more than my rent.”
“It’s a shirt.”
“It’s a Kade shirt.”
“Evelyn.”
She took it.
Mostly because she was getting blood on everything.
The laundromat had been closed for years. The front windows were painted black from the inside. One crooked sign still hung over the door: SPIN CITY, with half the letters missing.
Mara’s safehouse was behind it.
Or it had been.
Evelyn stopped across the street.
Nolan noticed right away. “What is it?”
“The ward should be on.”
“What ward?”
“The one that makes this place look like a burned-out rat hole.”
“It already looks like that.”
“Exactly.”
The black-painted windows were clear now.
Not broken.
Clear.
Through the glass, Evelyn could see the old washers lined up against the wall.
And the safehouse door at the back of the shop.
It stood shut.
“No ward,” Nolan said. “That mean Mara’s gone?”
“It means somebody got here first.”
A siren wailed somewhere down the avenue.
Too close.
Nolan reached for her hand. Not the bleeding one. The other.
She looked down at his fingers around hers.
Then up at him.
“We don’t have another place,” he said.
“I know.”
His grip tightened once. “Then don’t let go.”
Evelyn hated that those words landed.
She pulled him across the street.
The laundromat door was unlocked.
That was worse than finding it barred.
Inside, dust covered the floor except for one set of fresh boot prints leading toward the back. The machines sat dead and open-mouthed. Somebody had smashed the coin slots on every single one.
Nolan stayed close behind her.
“Can you sense anyone?” he whispered.
“I’m a curse-breaker, not a damn bloodhound.”
“Useful distinction.”
“Shut up.”
They reached the safehouse door.
Evelyn put her hand on the knob.
It was warm.
Not from the building.
From blood.
Nolan moved in front of her. “I’ll open it.”
“No.”
“Evelyn—”
“If there’s a trap, it’ll probably want you. That’s been the theme of my night.”
She turned the knob before he could argue.
The door swung inward.
The small room beyond was empty.
No Mara. No bags. No weapons stacked by the cot.
Just blood smeared across the far wall in huge shaking letters.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
The message was written in a hand she knew.
I KNOW WHERE YOUR BROTHER IS.
Behind her, Nolan said her name.
Then the blood on the wall started to run.