Chapter 9 · The Third Lock

"You've got eight seconds," Dorian said. "If that key doesn't work, we're both dead."

The hidden key burned in my palm.

Behind us, boots pounded down the metal steps. Someone shouted my name. Someone else shouted Dorian's rank, then yelled the order to shoot on sight.

Dorian had one hand clamped over his side. Blood had soaked through his uniform shirt and turned the bandage at his ribs black. He still stood between me and the soldiers.

I jammed the key into the iron case.

"You said ten seconds."

"I rounded up."

"That's not how seconds work."

"Mara."

His voice cut through the gunfire and pounding boots. Low. Hard. Too close.

The key turned.

A tiny click sounded inside the case.

Dorian's eyes dropped to it. "Did it open?"

"Stop breathing on me."

"I wasn't."

His chest brushed my shoulder when the train lurched. My back slammed into the narrow wall between the cars. Dorian's arm shot out beside my head, catching the frame before I hit the coupling door.

Heat rolled off him. Metal, blood, and burnt powder clung to his skin.

"You're absolutely breathing on me."

"Then move faster.