"Get your hands off me before I rip 'em off."
Cade spat it but it came out a wet rattle. He's slumped against the alley brick, blood soaking his shirt black. The chain between our wrists hums like a live wire.
"You die, I die," I said. "That's the deal, right? So quit squirming, Rook."
"The deal is I don't trust you." He tried to shove me. Couldn't. His palm hit my forearm — hot, shaking, slick with sweat. "Don't play hero, Lorne."
Behind us the Black Door screamed.
Not a metaphor. Real metal screaming. The iron frame shudders so hard it blurs. Red light bleeds through the seams.
"If that thing blows, whatever's on the other side walks straight into Greyhaven," I said. "And we're first on the menu. Since we're the idiots who cracked it."
He laughed. Coughed blood. "Then fix it, Lockbreaker. Do your trick."
"I can't fix shit when you're yanking the chain!" I stepped in. My thigh hit his leg. Too close. Heat rolled off him — fever-hot, sour with blood and ozone. I reached for the lock and the iron bit me.
Zap. Straight up my spine.
*Help him.*
Not out loud. Inside my head. A girl's voice. Small. Terrified. Like she's been screaming for a hundred years.
I flinched back. Nearly ate trash. "Did you hear that?"
Cade's eyes snapped to me. Sharp. "Hear what?"
"The girl! She said help him!"
He went still. Stared at the chain. Then at my face. "You can hear her?"
"Who is she? Who's 'her'?"
"Ghost in the machine." He grabbed my wrist and yanked. Hard. I slammed against his chest. Air punched out of me. His heart hammered against my ribs — fast, uneven, too loud. "If you hear her, the bond's deeper than a death-switch. We're sharing more than a heartbeat."
"I don't wanna share anything with you," I hissed. I clawed at his fingers. "Let go!"
"Not till you shut that door." His voice dropped. Breath warm on my ear. He didn't let go. He pulled me closer. Fabric dragged. His grip burned. "Do it now, Lorne. Or we both stain this pavement."
"You think bossing me helps?" I shoved my fingers into the tumblers. Gears ground. Warped. Melted. Felt like pushing my hand into bone. "I'm trying!"
The door fought back.
Red light blasted. Threw me on my ass. The chain snapped Cade's arm sideways.
"Dammit!" He clutched his wrist. "You trying to kill us?"
I scrambled up, gasping. "It's not broken. It's hungry."
"What?"
"It's a Memory Lock. It wants payment. One memory for one seal. And it has to matter."
He leaned his head back against the brick. Stared at the smog. "Fine. Take mine. Take whatever trash you want."
"Doesn't work like that." I stepped to him. Hand hovering by his jaw. Stubble. Scar through his eyebrow. He didn't pull away. Eyes locked on mine and my pulse went stupid. "We both pay. Contract says together."
"What do you want?" he said, low.
"Something that hurts. That's what it eats."
I closed my eyes. Thought of my foster father. How he sold me. Price tag on a kid. The cold cellar. The day I knew I'd never get out unless I stole my way out. I shoved that — betrayal, concrete, locked door — into the chain.
Cade made a noise. Not words. I felt it anyway. Gold. A spire. Falling. A sister's cold eyes watching him drop. Cast out.
Our memories hit in the chain. Gray and gold swirling. It tugged my chest like someone hooked my ribs and pulled.
*Click.*
Red light died. The Black Door slammed. Hiss of steam. Ground shook.
Silence. Just us breathing. Synced.
I yanked my hand back. Empty. Like someone erased a photo. I couldn't see his face anymore. My foster father's face — gone. Blurred.
"You're a thief," Cade whispered. Not looking at me like a tool now. Like a threat.
"We both paid, Rook. Don't play victim."
"I didn't say you could be in my head." He didn't move away. Still too close. Eyes searching mine. "What else did you see in there?"
"Enough to know you don't get to order me around," I said. "You fell. She watched."
His jaw tightened. "Don't."
Before I could push, the pylons chimed.
High, ugly chime. Blue light washed the alley.
"Attention, citizens of Greyhaven." Serra Rook. Velvet over a razor. "A breach of the High Gate has occurred. Fugitive Cade Rook and accomplice at large."
My stomach dropped.
Two faces on the holo. Cade — arrogant, dangerous. And me. Grainy market cam from ten minutes ago.
"Grade-S bounty," Serra purred. "Dead or alive. Ten thousand credits and a full debt pardon to the captor."
Debt pardon.
Everything I've ever wanted. In one sentence.
I looked at Cade. He looked at me. Saw it.
"Don't," he said. Cold again. "Don't even think it."
"Ten thousand," I whispered. "I could leave. For good. No more slums, no more—"
"You'd have to kill me first." No fear. A dare. His fingers tightened on the chain. "You gonna try, Lockbreaker?"
"You think I'd sell you for a pardon?" I snapped. "You think I'm that cheap?"
"I think everyone's got a price."
The ground groaned.
I looked down. Concrete cracked. Red marks bloomed — same red as the door — like mushrooms after rain. One. Ten. A hundred. Perfect circle around us. Hell-light.
"What is that?" I stepped back. Chain pulled taut.
Cade went pale. "They're not gates anymore."
Thud. Heavy. Metal. From the end of the alley.
Thud again. Closer. Something big. Iron and hunger.
"They're hunting," he said. Grabbed my hand and ran. "They've got our scent — move!"
We bolted for the street. I looked back.
A door — a real wooden door with a brass handle — pushed itself out of the bakery brick like it grew there. Swung open an inch. Turned toward me.
Red light flared right under my boot. The lock in my chest twisted. And that girl's voice wasn't scared anymore.
It was a command.
"Open—"