Chapter 9 · Dead End Sprint

"Move! Now!" Kane’s voice wasn't a request. He grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin with a grip that promised bruises, and yanked me sideways just as a plasma bolt scorched the air where my head had been a second ago.

I stumbled, my boots skidding on the slick, oil-stained concrete of the alley. "I can run on my own, you arrogant prick!"

"Shut up and keep your feet moving," Kane snapped. He didn't let go. He hauled me forward, his shoulder slamming into mine as we dove behind a stack of rusted shipping crates.

I hit the metal hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. Before I could even gasp, Kane was over me. He didn't just lean in; he pinned me against the cold steel, his chest pressing against mine, his breath hot and jagged against my cheek.

"They have the pulse," he hissed, his eyes scanning the mouth of the alley. "The company isn't tracking our phones, Mara. They're tracking the sync. Every time our hearts beat in time, we're basically lighting a flare in the middle of a blackout."

I glared up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs—