"Stop yanking — you're gonna bleed out on my boots!"
The chain snapped taut and Lorne hauled him anyway. Shoulder to brick. Brick to spine. The alley stank like wet rust and hot iron.
"Then stop being dead weight!" she hissed. "You were locked in a void-prison five minutes ago. Now you're my problem. Move!"
Sirens wailed off the main street. Too close. Smog choked the light.
Cade coughed. Wet. Sharp. Blood in his hair, blood on his mouth, and still that smug landlord smirk.
"You're welcome, by the way," he said. "Most girls say thanks after a rescue."
"Most girls don't get handcuffed to a wanted fugitive," Lorne snapped. "What is this thing? How do I break it?"
She rattled the chain. Cold. Heavy. No seam. No lock. Just biting straight into skin.
Cade didn't answer right away. He leaned back against the wall like he owned it. Even half-dead he took up too much space.
"You're a lockbreaker, right?" he said. "Little street rat with clever hands. You think everything's a tumbler."
"And you're a prince who got himself locked in a closet. So talk."
He shifted. Just an inch. But suddenly he was in her space. Too close. Too big.
His free hand came up. Cold fingers brushed the pulse point under the chain. Lorne flinched.
"Don't touch me."
"It's not a lock, sweetheart," he murmured. "It's a contract. The Black Door doesn't take bribes. It takes a bond."
His thumb pressed lightly against her wrist. Her pulse jumped.
"Your heart's tied to mine now," he said. "Mine stops? Yours stops. Period."
Lorne yanked. The chain jerked her chest straight into his. Hard. No give.
She could feel it then — his heartbeat. Fast. Uneven. Thudding right through his jacket into her ribs.
"You're lying," she breathed.
"Try me," he said. "Cut it. Use your pretty little picks. Snap it without the key and the contract executes. Messier than the bonding. Way messier."
"I have debts," she said. "I have a life. I'm not dying because you couldn't keep your door shut."
"You're not dying yet," he said. His voice dropped. Rougher. "But you will be when the Wardens see that gate's fixed. Only one person in Greyhaven can fix a failing gate without blowing the block. That's you, Lorne Vale."
Her blood went cold.
"How do you know my name?"
"I know your foster father sold your hands to the black market before you were twenty," he said. "I know you crack safes so collectors don't crack your ribs. I know you're expensive. And rare."
"Stop."
"And I know you're the only reason I'm still breathing."
"Don't," she snapped. "Don't act like I did this for you. I want the master key. You stole it. Give it to me and I'll find a way to cut us loose."
He laughed. Then coughed again. Harder this time. He slid down the brick, head tipping back.
"The key's the only thing keeping this city from folding in on itself," he said. "You think I'm handing it to a girl who can't keep her footing?"
Lorne grabbed his chin. Forced his eyes to hers. Her fingers shook. His skin was too hot, then too cold.
"I'm not a girl," she said. "I'm the one holding the chain. You wanna live the next hour? You treat me like a partner. Not a pet."
For a second he just stared. Pupils blown. Breath warm against her mouth. Too close. The air went thin.
"Partner?" he echoed. "Fine. But you follow. You hesitate on the main road for one second? We both die. Got it?"
"You slow me down and I'm dragging you by the ankles," she said.
"Deal."
He tried to stand. His leg gave. He crashed forward — took her with him.
They hit the pavement tangled. Iron and limbs. His weight pinned her. Her back hit damp concrete. His hand slammed down by her head, fingers digging into dirt.
He didn't get up.
He just hovered there. Breathing hard. Eyes locked on hers.
"You're shaking," he said. Low. Right against her chest.
"I'm cold."
"Liar."
The chain pulsed.
Not bright. Crimson. Dim. Throbbing like a heart.
Lorne gasped. The metal tightened, dragging them closer until there was no air left between them. His jacket pressed to her shirt. His breath hit her lips.
"What is it doing?" Cade snarled. His grip locked on her arm. White knuckles.
"I don't know! Make it stop!"
The light bled into their skin. Hot. Burning. Numbers ghosted in the air between their wrists.
00:05... 00:04... 00:03...
"Is that a countdown?" Lorne shrieked. "What happens at zero?"
"Hold on to me!"
00:02... 00:01... 00:00.
No explosion. No flash.
A jolt slammed through the chain. Pure electricity. Lorne's back hit the wall. Cade hit beside her. Her ears rang.
Silence.
Then — not in the alley. Inside her head.
A woman's voice. Sharp. Terrified. Right on top of Cade's heartbeat.
"Run, you fool! She's right behind—"
Lorne bolted upright. "Who was that? Who the hell was that?"
Cade stared at her. All the color gone. All the smug gone.
"You heard her?" he whispered. His fingers dug into her wrist, too tight, too desperate. "Say it again — whose voice did you hear just now? Say her—"