Chapter 18 · The Last Bell Executioner

"Step back, Mara." Dax’s voice was grinding stone. He didn't move, but the air between us tightened. A warning. A threat. I didn't move an inch. Instead, I stepped closer, my boots crunching on the grit of the alley.

"You’re the Judge, right? The big lawman of Glassharbor? Then do your damn job. Arrest her. Take the heart. End this."

"I can't," he snapped.

His hand gripped his sidearm, knuckles white, but he didn't draw. For a second, the mask cracked. I saw it—raw, desperate.

"You don't understand what's at stake," he whispered.

"I understand plenty," I spat. I could feel it—the phantom sting of a dozen deaths I couldn't remember. A thousand cuts across my throat. "I'm the Disaster Maker. I'm the one who kills us all every single night. Why the hell are you still protecting me?"

Evelyn let out a sharp, mocking laugh. She leaned against a rusted beam, tossing the silver heart up and catching it. Casual. Cruel. "He's not protecting you, sweetheart. He's obsessed. There's a difference. One is duty; the other is a sickness."

"Shut up, Evelyn," Dax growled. He stepped toward her, his silhouette towering, oppressive. "The contract is still active.