She spun and caught him by the throat. Not hard enough to crush, but hard enough to pin him against a pipe.
"You think this is a game because you found one loophole."
Kael's hands closed around her forearm. "I think you hate losing control."
"I hate being tied to a man who was supposed to be dead."
That stopped him.
Sloane's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"Who told you I was supposed to be dead?"
"Your file."
"You read my file?"
"I signed your execution order. I read everything."
"Then you know my father disappeared in the Foundry seventeen years ago."
"I know the official report says he died in a gear collapse."
"Official reports are bedtime stories for people who like sleeping."
Her grip loosened by one fraction.
Kael caught it and stepped closer, forcing her back against the opposite wall. The tunnel gave them barely an inch between their bodies. Her pistol wedged between them, its cold metal pressing into his side.
"What else did your file say?" he asked.
"That your father designed the first resonance regulator."
"And?"
"That he was a traitor."
"There it is."
"Don't start."
"Victor called him a traitor, didn't he?"
Sloane's jaw tightened. "Victor calls anyone a traitor who refuses to kneel."
"You sound like you've been practicing that line."
"I sound like someone who knows the Archon better than you do."
"You work for him."
"I work for the city."
"Same uniform. Different lie."
Her gaze dropped to the space between them. His breath caught on the next word. Her fingers were still curled around his throat, but the pressure had faded. The heat from her palm traveled through his skin, right into the mark.
"If you keep pushing me," she said, quieter now, "the pact won't be the thing that kills you."
"You keep getting close enough to threaten me. Maybe you like the convenience."
A sharp pulse snapped through both brands.
Sloane flinched and shoved away from him.
"That wasn't a lie," Kael said.
"It was a provocation."
"The pact disagrees."
"The pact has your sense of humor."
A siren screamed somewhere above them.
The red lamps switched to white. A metal voice crackled through the tunnel speakers.
"Containment breach in District Three. All Inquisitorial units return to assigned posts. By order of Archon Victor, the city gates are sealed."
Sloane looked up. "He knows."
"About the escape?"
"About the mark. About us."
"You think he can see the bond?"
"He can see every arrest, every weapon discharge, every legal seal in Augusta. If he hasn't seen the mark yet, he will in minutes."
She drew a slim brass key from beneath her sleeve and shoved it into a lock set in the tunnel wall.
The panel opened onto a moving freight carriage.
Sloane climbed in and held out her hand. "Get inside."
Kael glanced at the narrow compartment. "You first, remember?"
"I am done arguing about who gets shot first."
"That sounds like personal growth."
She grabbed his wrist and hauled him through. The instant he landed, she slammed the panel shut and locked it.
The carriage lurched forward.
Kael crashed into her. His hands caught her waist before his head struck the ceiling. Sloane's fingers hooked into the front of his coat, keeping him pinned against her as the carriage rattled through the underground rail.
For three heartbeats, neither of them spoke.
Her face was close enough for him to see the tiny scar under her left eye. Her breath hitched against his mouth.
Then she shoved him into the opposite wall.
"Touch me again without permission," she said, "and I break your fingers."
"You grabbed me first."
"I saved your head."
"You saved your weapon."
"Both can be true."
The carriage took a sharp turn. Sloane grabbed the overhead bar. Kael caught the side rail and kept his balance.
"How far to the Foundry?" he asked.
"Four minutes."
"And the guards?"
"Already moving to cut us off."
"So this is a terrible plan."
"It's the only plan that leaves you breathing."
"You keep saying that like you care."
Sloane's eyes locked on his. "I care about keeping what belongs to my family out of Victor's hands. If you die before fixing the rifle, I lose everything. My rank. My name. My family's seat."
"And if I fix it?"
"You walk away."
Kael laughed once. "You can't release me. The pact won't allow it."
"I can release your body from a cell. That's what I promised."
"You promised survival. Not freedom."
"You rewrote the contract. Don't complain about the fine print."
The carriage jolted again. Sloane's shoulder slammed into the wall. Kael moved before he thought, catching her around the ribs and pulling her clear of the exposed bolt.
Her hand landed on his chest.
"I had it," she said.
"You almost didn't."
"Don't make a habit of saving me."
"Don't make a habit of needing it."
The bond warmed between them, no longer painful. Just bright enough to make his skin prickle.
Sloane felt it too. Her thumb stopped against his coat.
"What did you do to the pact?" she asked.
"I made it honest."
"You made it dangerous."
"Same thing, sometimes."
A bell rang over the carriage doors.
Sloane pulled away and drew her pistol. "We're here."
The freight carriage slowed inside a massive underground chamber. Kael felt the vibration through the floor before the doors opened. It wasn't the steady churn of the prison rails. This was deeper. Slower. Each pulse came with a hard metallic thump that climbed through his boots and into his teeth.
He looked at Sloane. "What is that?"
"The Foundry Heart."
"You said the rifle was stored here."
"It is."
"You didn't say the whole building was alive."
"I didn't say the whole building was anything."
The doors split apart.
Three armored guards waited on the platform, rifles raised.
"Inquisitor Sloane," the captain called. "Step away from the prisoner."
Sloane lifted her weapon. "Lower yours."
"You are under review for pact contamination."
"That's not a legal order."