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“Put the stray down.”
The commander’s rifle stayed aimed at my heart. Behind me, Nolan was trapped under half a collapsed concrete wall, one hand pressed to his skull and the other gripping my stolen gun.
“Try that order again,” I said.
The commander tilted his helmet. “You heard me, Evelyn.”
My name hit harder than the rifle sight.
Nolan’s fingers tightened around my gun. His knuckles went white. “Evelyn, move.”
“Shut up.” I kept my eyes on the commander. “How do you know my name?”
“Welcome home, Director.”
For one ugly second, nobody moved.
Then the ceiling groaned.
A slab of concrete dropped between us. The commander fired. The shot punched through the dust and clipped the metal beam beside my head. Sparks slapped my cheek.
I hit the floor and rolled behind a wrecked transport crate. Nolan dragged himself free on the other side of the rubble, coughing hard enough to spit blood onto his sleeve.
“Your friends are shooting at us,” he said.
“They’re not my friends.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Can you walk?”
“Can you stop pointing that gun at me?”
I looked down. He had my pistol pressed against his own ribs now.
The cracked service tunnel shook with another burst of gunfire. Dust rained from the pipes. Men shouted beyond the fallen slab, boots scraping over broken concrete.
“Give me the gun,” I said.
“No.”
“Nolan.”
“You brought me into this trap.”
“I pulled you out of a cage.”
“You stole me from a black-market broker.”
“Because the broker was going to drain you.”
“Maybe I deserved it.”
The words came out flat, but his face didn’t match them. Pain had pulled one side of his mouth tight. His eyes looked unfocused, almost silver under the emergency lights.
I crawled closer, keeping the crate between us and the soldiers. “What did the commander mean?”
Nolan stared at me.
“Director,” I said. “Why did he call me that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.”
“You knew this place.”
“I knew the door.”
“You knew the security grid.”
“I guessed.”
“You knew my name.”
His jaw flexed. “I heard it before.”
“From who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Convenient.”
A rifle barrel shoved through the gap above the crate.
Nolan grabbed my wrist and yanked me down. The shot cracked over my head. His palm locked around my skin, hot and hard, his chest pressed against my shoulder as we flattened into the dust.
“Breathe quieter,” he whispered.
“You’re the one making noise.”
“Because your elbow is in my ribs.”
“Then let go.”
“Not while they’re shooting.”
The rifle withdrew. Boots moved past the other side of the slab.
Nolan didn’t release me.
His breath brushed my ear. I could feel each quick pull of air against the side of my neck. For half a second, the gunfire faded behind the beat of his pulse under my fingers.
I jerked my hand away first.
“Touch me again without warning,” I whispered, “and I’ll break your nose.”
“You say that like you haven’t tried.”
“I haven’t tried hard enough.”
His mouth almost curved. Then the pain returned.
Nolan clutched his head and folded forward.
“Hey.” I caught his shoulder. “What’s happening?”
“Get off me.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I said get off.”
His hand struck the floor. The concrete beneath his palm flashed blue.
Not reflected light. It came from him.
Thin lines of light raced up his wrist, vanished beneath his sleeve, and lit the veins along his neck. The emergency lamps flickered in answer. Somewhere behind us, an old generator coughed to life.
I pulled my knife.
Nolan saw it. His eyes snapped up.
“You’re going to stab me?”
“I’m deciding.”
“Decide faster.”
The blue lines spread across his skin. A low vibration rolled through the tunnel. The sealed blast door at the far end unlocked with a heavy clunk.
Outside, someone yelled, “The core is waking up!”
Another voice answered, “Keep the Director alive!”
My grip tightened on the knife.
Nolan forced himself upright against the concrete. “Evelyn.”
“Don’t.”
“You heard them.”
“I heard a lot of things.”
“They’re here for me.”
“They’re here for whatever is inside your blood.”
His stare cut into mine. “You knew?”
“I saw what happened at the dome.”
“No. You saw a dead system react when I touched it.”
“I saw your blood power a dead system.”
“And you still brought me here.”
“You were unconscious.”
“You could’ve left me.”
“I considered it.”
“Liar.”
The word landed too close. I hated that he knew.
I had considered leaving him in the alley. I had even walked three steps away. Then he’d opened his eyes and said Mika’s name, though I had never told him my brother existed.
Now the Authority called me Director. Soldiers were killing anyone between them and Nolan. The man beside me had no memories, no story that stayed straight, and blood that could wake the city’s last safe dome.
I should have stabbed him before the next door opened.
Instead, I grabbed his collar. “Tell me what you know.”
His gaze dropped to my hand, then lifted back to my face. “You want the truth now?”
“I want enough truth to keep us alive.”
“Then stop standing in the open.”
He shoved me sideways as the concrete slab exploded.
A soldier came through the dust with a shock baton raised. Nolan stepped into him before I could fire. He caught the soldier’s wrist, twisted, and drove his shoulder into the man’s chest. The baton cracked against the wall and sent white sparks over Nolan’s back.
Nolan slammed the soldier into the rubble.
I fired twice at the second man coming through the gap.
He dropped.
“Move!” I shouted.
Nolan snatched the fallen soldier’s access card. “Which way?”
“The maintenance shaft.”
“That sounds like a terrible way.”
“It’s the only way.”
“You know this place too well.”
“Keep talking and I’ll leave you behind.”
“You won’t.”
I grabbed the front of his jacket and dragged him toward the narrow shaft entrance. “You’re very sure for someone who was sold by the pound.”
“And you’re very angry for someone who keeps saving me.”
“I’m saving my brother.”
“Same thing, for now.”
We reached the shaft as bullets tore through the crate behind us. I shoved the access card into the panel. The reader flashed red.
“Of course,” I muttered.
Nolan leaned over my shoulder. “Try holding it sideways.”
“I know how cards work.”
“Do you?”
I flipped it and pressed again. The lock clicked.
“Don’t look so pleased,” he said.
“I’m deciding whether to shoot you before or after we climb.”
“After. I’d like to see if you regret it.”
The hatch opened into a vertical service shaft. A ladder disappeared into darkness above and below. The upper level was blocked by twisted metal. Below us, the shaft dropped toward the old water-processing tunnels.
Behind us, the soldiers were getting through.
“Down,” I said.
Nolan looked into the shaft. “That’s not an exit.”
“It is if you don’t fall.”
“I’m wounded.”
“You’re annoying. Keep moving.”
I climbed first. The ladder shook beneath my boots. Nolan followed, one hand gripping the rail and the other pressed against his head.
“Don’t pass out,” I called down.
“I’ll pencil it in.”
“Seriously.”
“You worried about me?”
“I’m worried your body will block the ladder.”
“Sounds personal.”
A round punched through the hatch above him.
Nolan ducked. “They’re coming down.”
“Then climb faster.”
“I’m trying.”
“You’re six feet tall and built like a locked door. Use the legs.”
“You noticed?”
I stopped on the rung above him and looked down.
His face was inches from mine. Dust streaked his cheek. His mouth was open just enough for him to breathe. The blue light under his skin had faded, but it still pulsed at his throat.
“Don’t flirt while people are shooting at us,” I said.
“I wasn’t flirting.”
“Good. You’d be terrible at it.”
“Then why are you still looking?”
A fresh shot struck the ladder.
I climbed.
At the bottom, I jumped onto a narrow platform and turned to catch him. Nolan landed hard, stumbled, and crashed against me. His hands closed around my waist to keep us both from falling through the broken railing.
For one breath, his body pinned mine against the cold wall.
His heat cut through my jacket. His face hovered close. The sharp scent of metal and dust clung to him, mixed with the clean bite of whatever chemical they had used to keep him sedated.
“Let go,” I said.
“You’re welcome.”
“You’re crushing my ribs.”
“You’re holding a knife against my leg.”
“Move and find out.”
His eyes dropped to the blade. He didn’t move right away.
That pause was a mistake. Mine too.
Then he stepped back, and the cold rushed into the space between us.
The hatch above banged open.
“Down there!” a soldier yelled.
I grabbed Nolan’s sleeve and pulled him into the processing tunnel. “Run.”
The tunnel was barely wide enough for two people. Old pipes crowded the ceiling. Black water ran along a channel beside the floor, carrying strips of plastic and ash.
Nolan stayed close behind me. Too close. Every time I turned, his shoulder brushed mine.
“Left,” he said.
I stopped. “You remember the route now?”
“No.”
“Then stop giving directions.”
“The right side is wired.”
I looked down.
A thin red line crossed the floor beneath the dirty water. It led to a small metal box bolted to the wall.
“How did you see that?”
“Because I’ve seen it before.”
His voice had changed. No sarcasm. No loose edge.
“Where?”
He pressed his fingers against the wall. “I don’t know.”
“Try harder.”
His eyes squeezed shut. “There was a door. A white room. People behind glass.”
“People doing what?”
“Watching.”
“Watching you?”
“Watching the machine.”
“What machine?”
He opened his eyes. “The one under the dome.”
A gunshot echoed from the shaft.
Nolan took my hand.
I looked down at our joined fingers. “What are you doing?”
“Moving.”
“I can move without you.”
“You can also step on the wire without me.”
He pulled me left, keeping our shoulders pressed together as we edged along the wall. His thumb dragged once over the back of my hand. Maybe accidental. Maybe not.
I didn’t let go.
That annoyed me more than the soldiers.
We reached a rusted door. Nolan released my hand and grabbed the handle.
“Wait.” I caught his wrist. “If this opens into another patrol—”
“Then shoot the patrol.”
“With what?”
He looked at my pistol. “You have two rounds.”
I checked the magazine. He was right.
“You counted?”
“I count everything around me.”
“Except your own name?”
His expression shut down.
I pushed the gun beneath his chin.
Nolan went still.
The tunnel seemed to tighten around us. His skin was warm beneath the muzzle. I could see the pulse in his throat, steady but fast.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Someone trying not to die.”
“Wrong answer.”
“You want the real one?”
“I want the one you’ve been hiding.”
His gaze held mine. “I don’t remember it.”
“Everybody remembers something.”
“I remember your brother.”
“Don’t use Mika to dodge me.”
“I remember the way he coughs through the filter. I remember you threatening that broker. I remember you putting a knife under my jaw and saying you’d cut out my tongue if I lied.”
“You did lie.”
“I remember you too.”
The words should have sounded like a threat. They didn’t.
His hand rose slowly. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist but didn’t push the gun away.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Maybe I’m deciding where to put the bullet.”
“Then put it somewhere useful.”
He moved the barrel from his throat to the center of his chest.
My breath caught.
Nolan pressed the gun harder against himself. “Shoot later.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
His face was inches from mine again. His hand stayed around my wrist, firm enough to stop me, gentle enough to make the choice worse.
“Shoot later,” he repeated. “Run now.”
“You think that makes you noble?”
“No. I think it makes me practical.”
“You’re asking me to trust a man who can’t tell me his own name.”
“I’m asking you to trust the soldiers trying to cut me open even less.”
Behind us, metal shrieked.
The patrol had reached the tunnel.
Nolan leaned closer. His breath warmed my cheek. “If you pull that trigger, they get your brother.”
My wrist went rigid in his grip.
“How do you know?”
“Because they already know about him.”
“Who told you?”
“The voice in the white room.”
“What voice?”
He looked past me, toward the approaching lights. “Yours.”
I shoved him against the door. “Say that again.”
“Your voice.”
“You’ve never met me before the market.”
“I know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t.”
“Try.”
He stared down at me, pinned by my forearm and the door behind him. His eyes were clear now, but the blue light had started to gather under his skin again.
“You were standing behind the glass,” he said. “You were wearing a white coat.”
My fingers loosened.
“No,” I said.
“You told them the process was unstable.”
“No.”
“You said the subject would die if they continued.”
“I never wore a white coat.”
“You said his blood wasn’t a battery.”
The tunnel tilted.
I remembered my mother’s hands. Her cracked nails. The little metal case she kept locked beneath the kitchen floor. The way she had vanished before Mika was born.
I had never remembered a white room.
Nolan’s voice dropped. “You called him Nolan.”
I pulled away from him.
“No,” I said again, but it sounded weak this time.
The soldiers rounded the bend.
Their commander stepped through the dust first. His rifle tracked from Nolan to me. Two armored hunters followed, each wearing the black throat seals of the Authority.
“Director Hart,” the commander said. “Step away from the subject.”
My name appeared on the small display built into his helmet. Beneath it, a red symbol blinked.
DIRECTOR E. HART.
AUTHORIZED ACCESS: CORE LEVEL.
I stared at the letters.
Nolan watched my face. “You’ve seen that before.”
“Shut up.”
The commander took one step forward. “You’ve been running from your assignment for seven years.”
“I have no assignment.”
“You left the dome during the containment breach.”
“I was twelve.”
“You were twenty.”
The words cracked through me.
I had been twenty when my mother disappeared. I remembered the empty apartment. I remembered Mika crying in the next room. I remembered Authority officers asking questions.
I didn’t remember leaving the dome.
The commander raised his rifle a fraction. “Come with us, Director. We can restore your clearance.”
“And Nolan?”
“Return the subject.”
“He has a name.”
“Not one that matters.”
Nolan stepped beside me. “That’s rich, coming from a man hiding behind a helmet.”
“Subject Vale,” the commander said. “You are property of the Central Authority.”
Nolan laughed once. It held no humor. “Then send me an invoice.”
The commander’s rifle swung toward him.
I shoved Nolan behind me and raised my pistol.
“Lower it,” the commander ordered.
“Shoot him and I shoot you.”
“You have two rounds.”
“Then don’t give me a reason to waste one.”
The commander’s helmet clicked. “You’re protecting the man who caused the collapse.”
Nolan went very still.
I looked at him. “What did he mean?”
“Evelyn—”
“What did he mean?”
“I don’t know.”
The commander laughed. “Still hiding behind the memory loss?”
Nolan’s fingers curled.
“You know me,” Nolan said.
“I know what you did.”
“Then tell me.”
“You opened the core.”
“I don’t remember.”
“You don’t have to remember to be guilty.”
The blue light burst across Nolan’s neck.
He stumbled and grabbed the side of his head. His knees struck the wet concrete.
“Nolan.”
“Don’t touch me.”
“You’re in pain.”
“Stay back.”
The commander lifted two fingers. The hunters spread out, cutting off both ends of the tunnel.
“His neural lock is reacting,” the commander said. “Director, come here and the pain stops.”
Nolan forced his head up. “Don’t listen.”
“Shut your mouth,” the commander snapped. “You’ve had seven years to rot in the outer zone. You should’ve stayed dead.”
I looked at Nolan. “You died?”
He pressed one hand to the floor. “Apparently.”
“You knew that.”
“I knew someone wanted me dead.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No, it isn’t.”
The commander pointed at me. “He’ll use you the way he used the others.”
“Who are the others?”
“Scientists. Runners. Anyone stupid enough to believe him.”
Nolan’s head snapped toward the commander. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” the commander asked. “She deserves to know what she dragged home.”
The word home scraped against something buried in my skull.
A white room.
A glass wall.
A boy strapped to a metal chair, his face turned away.
My voice saying, Stop the feed.
No. Not a boy. A man.
Nolan.
He made a broken sound and drove his fist into the concrete.
The impact split his knuckles. Blue light spilled over the floor, racing toward the old pipes.
Every valve in the tunnel slammed open.
A blast of pressurized water hit the hunters and knocked them off their feet. One crashed into the wall. The other vanished behind a sheet of dirty spray.
The commander stayed upright, boots locked against the floor.
He fired.
I grabbed Nolan and pulled him through the door. The round struck the frame where his head had been.
“Run!” I yelled.
We sprinted through the service passage. Water poured behind us. The alarm began to howl.
Nolan kept pace for twenty steps, then his breathing broke.
“Slow down,” he said.
“No.”
“You want me alive?”
“I want answers.”
“Then stop dragging me like a sack.”
I let go of his sleeve. He nearly fell.
I caught him under the arm. “You’re welcome.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“I’m having a terrible day.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
We stumbled into a circular pump room. Three dead filtration tanks rose around the center platform. A steel bridge crossed the chamber to a control booth on the far side.
The bridge lights flickered on as Nolan entered.
A screen above the booth powered up.
DIRECTOR ACCESS REQUIRED.
Nolan looked at me.
I looked at the screen.
“Don’t,” I said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was going to ask if you knew the password.”
“I don’t.”
The screen flashed.
ENTER VOICE AUTHORIZATION.
A small red microphone opened beneath the message.
My mouth went dry.
Nolan stepped closer. “Say something.”
“Why?”
“Because the door behind us is about to open.”
The metal door at the end of the tunnel shook under a heavy impact.
I crossed to the booth. “What do I say?”
“Your name.”
“I just said it.”
“Say it to the machine.”
I leaned toward the microphone. “Evelyn Hart.”
The system rejected me.
AUTHORIZATION FAILED.
Nolan glanced at the tunnel. “Again.”
“I’m not a director.”
“Apparently the door disagrees.”
The door shook again. A rifle muzzle punched through the locking seam.
“Evelyn,” Nolan said, quieter now. “Use the name they gave you.”
I turned to him. “What name?”
His face went pale.
“You know it.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
The rifle fired through the door. The bullet tore across the booth and shattered the screen beside my head.
Nolan grabbed me and pulled me down. We hit the floor together. His forearm braced beside my face. His body covered mine while fragments of glass pattered across his back.
“Get off,” I whispered.
“Not yet.”
His mouth was close to mine. His breath shook against my lips, but his eyes stayed locked on the doorway.
The moment stretched too long.
I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. Fast. Hard. Alive.
“Your pulse is racing,” he murmured.
“Because you’re on top of me.”
“Good to know.”
“Move.”
He pushed up, then offered his hand. I ignored it and stood on my own.
“You’re impossible,” he said.
“You’re wanted by every armed man in the city.”
“Both can be true.”
The booth’s damaged screen sparked. The microphone still glowed.
The name came to me without warning.
Not Evelyn Hart.
A designation. A name spoken by a woman with my mother’s voice.
“Director Elara,” I whispered.
The system chimed.
AUTHORIZATION ACCEPTED.
The bridge split down the middle. A hidden platform rose from below, carrying a black case marked with the same red symbol burned into the commander’s helmet.
Nolan stared at it. “You knew.”
“I remembered.”
“What is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your answers are getting repetitive.”
The case opened by itself.
Inside sat a glass vial filled with dark red liquid.
Nolan took one step toward it.
I caught his jacket. “Don’t touch that.”
His eyes stayed on the vial. “Why?”
“Because everything in this place wants a piece of you.”
“And you don’t?”
I looked at him.
His expression softened for half a second. Then the blast door buckled inward.
“Evelyn.”
“I’m not taking you back.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You’re going to the water plant.”
“What?”
“My brother’s filter is failing. The plant has replacement cartridges.”
“You’re choosing him over answers.”
“I’m choosing him over you.”
Nolan stepped close enough that his sleeve brushed mine. “You don’t mean that.”
“Try me.”
He lowered his voice. “If they catch us, they’ll use your access to open the core.”
“Then I won’t let them catch us.”
“They’ll come after Mika.”
“I know.”
“They’ll use him to control you.”
“They already do.”
Nolan’s gaze held mine. “Then let me help.”
“You’ve helped enough.”
“I pulled you out of the line of fire.”
“You also brought the line of fire.”
“I didn’t choose that.”
“You chose something.”
The blast door split. The commander shoved through the opening, armor soaked, rifle lifted.
“Step away from him!”
Nolan moved in front of me.
I grabbed his arm. “Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re unarmed.”
“So are you.”
I raised my pistol. “I have two rounds.”
The commander aimed at my chest. “You have one.”
Nolan’s eyes flicked toward me. “There’s a maintenance lift behind the tanks.”
“You know that how?”
“Because I built it.”
The words stopped everything.
The commander’s rifle lowered a fraction.
I turned toward Nolan. “What did you say?”
He looked like he wanted to take it back. “I said I built the lift.”
“No. You said—”
“Director Hart!” the commander barked. “He designed the dome’s restart system. He caused the collapse when he tried to bypass the safety lock.”
Nolan’s face emptied.
I saw it happen. The last loose pieces in his expression slammed together, not into a memory, but into terror.
“You designed it?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You just said you built the lift.”
“The lift, not the dome.”
“You knew the core. You knew the security. You knew my name.”
“Evelyn.”
“Did you know me?”
He took a step toward me.
I raised the gun.
He stopped.
His eyes dropped to the barrel, then came back to mine. “I knew someone.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it me?”
The commander moved closer. “Ask him what happened to the research team.”
Nolan flinched.
I saw that.
“What research team?” I asked.
“Don’t listen to him.”
“What research team?”
“Evelyn, we have seconds.”
“You have no right to rush me.”
“I have every right if I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“You keep saying that while hiding behind pieces of the truth.”
“Because the whole truth will get you killed.”
“Maybe I’ll decide if it’s worth the risk.”
The commander fired.
Nolan lunged.
I fired too.
The commander’s shot struck the floor between us. My bullet hit his shoulder plate and spun him sideways. Nolan slammed into me, and we went down behind the nearest tank.
The gun slipped from my hand.
“Find it,” I said.
“I’m trying.”
“You’re on my hand.”
“Your hand is under my knee.”
“Then move your knee.”
“Give me a second.”
“You don’t have a second.”
The hunters poured into the room. Gunfire hammered the tank above us. Metal screamed. Water burst from a cracked pipe and drenched my hair.
Nolan reached around me, found the gun, and pulled it against his chest.
I grabbed for it. He caught my wrist and pinned it to the floor.
“Let go.”
“No.”
“Nolan.”
“Look at me.”
“I’m looking.”
His face was inches away. Water ran from his hair to his jaw. His palm held my wrist against the concrete, his thumb pressed over my pulse.
“Shoot later,” he said.
“You said that already.”
“I mean it now.”
“Give me the gun.”
“Run now.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“I don’t.”
“Then trust this.”
He shoved the pistol into my hand and closed my fingers around it. Before I could lift it, he placed my palm against his chest, forcing the muzzle into the center of his shirt.
“Shoot later,” he said again. “If I turn on you, if I remember something that makes me dangerous, if I become what they say I am—shoot me.”
His heartbeat slammed against the gun.
I couldn’t pull my hand free.
“Stop talking like you’re already dead,” I whispered.
“Then stop looking at me like you’re deciding whether to kill me.”
“I am deciding.”
“Good.”
“You’re a bastard.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“You might be the reason the dome failed.”
“I might.”
“You might have killed everyone inside.”
“I might.”
“You might have known me before today.”
His thumb moved once over my pulse. “That one scares you most.”
I jerked my hand away.
A hunter rounded the tank.
Nolan rolled, kicked the man’s ankle, and pulled me toward the maintenance lift. I fired over his shoulder. The shot forced the hunter back.
“Two rounds?” Nolan asked.
“One.”
“Save it.”
“For what?”
“For the person who deserves it.”
We reached the lift hatch. Nolan ripped open the panel and shoved his fingers into the wiring.
“You said you built it,” I said. “Open it.”
“I’m working.”
“Work faster.”
“You want to try?”
“I want to know why you can fix a system you don’t remember.”
“Muscle memory.”
“Convenient.”
“Terrifying,” he snapped.
The lift lights came on.
The commander appeared through the steam, one hand clamped over his damaged shoulder.
“Director Elara,” he called. “You know what he is.”
I stepped in front of Nolan. “You don’t get to call me that.”
“You designed the neural contract.”
My blood turned cold.
Nolan looked at me. “What contract?”
I said nothing.
The commander smiled beneath his helmet. “Tell him, Director. Tell him why he can’t get more than a few miles from you without screaming.”
Nolan’s grip closed around my arm.
“You did this?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Did you put the lock in my head?”
“I said I don’t know.”
The commander raised his rifle again. “She chained you to herself, then wiped the evidence.”
Nolan stared at me.
I could feel his fingers tighten. Not enough to hurt. Enough to remind me that he could.
“Say something,” he said.
“I didn’t know there was a contract.”
“But there is one.”
“Yes.”
“You knew it was there.”
“No.”
“Then why did you keep me close?”
“Because if you get too far away, we both collapse.”
His eyes hardened. “You should’ve told me.”
“I learned the hard way.”
“You learned before I did.”
“I learned when you started bleeding through your nose in the market.”
“And you still didn’t tell me.”
“I was busy keeping you alive.”
“You were using me.”
The accusation struck clean.
I stepped closer until the gun between us pressed against his chest again. “You want to talk about using people? Every Authority soldier in this room wants your blood. The commander wants my access. My brother needs medicine by morning. So yes, I used what I had.”
Nolan looked down at the gun. “And what do you have?”
I met his eyes. “You.”
His expression shifted. Not trust. Not forgiveness. Something more dangerous because neither of us knew what to call it.
The lift doors opened behind him.
“Get in,” I said.
“After you.”
“You don’t trust me either.”
“No.”
“Then we’re even.”
The commander fired.
Nolan shoved me into the lift and turned back. I caught the back of his jacket and hauled him inside as the round struck the closing doors.
The lift dropped.
Nolan hit the wall opposite me. I hit the control panel. The cage rattled down through the dark shaft.
For three floors, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “You called yourself Director Elara.”
“I didn’t call myself anything.”
“The system accepted it.”
“It accepted a name.”
“Your name?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
He pushed away from the wall. The lift was barely wide enough for him to stand without brushing me. His hand closed around the rail beside my head.
“Tell me what you remember.”
“Nothing useful.”
“Try me.”
“A white room.”
His breathing changed.
“A glass wall,” I continued. “A machine under the dome. Someone was strapped to a chair.”
“Me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said my name.”
“I said a name.”
“Mine.”
“Maybe.”
He leaned closer. “Did you hurt me?”
“No.”
“Did you let them hurt me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you put the contract in my head?”
“I don’t know.”
His face was close enough that I could feel his breath against my mouth. His eyes searched mine like he could force the missing years out by staring hard enough.
“Give me one honest answer,” he said.
“I’m scared of what I did to you.”
That stopped him.
The lift jolted. His hand caught my waist before I slammed into the wall. His fingers stayed there for one beat, then two.
I could have pushed him away.
I didn’t.
His gaze dropped to my lips.
The lift cable groaned above us.
I shoved his shoulder. “Don’t.”
He let go at once.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at me like you’re trying to remember something.”
“What if I am?”
“Then remember faster.”
“You’re afraid I’ll remember you.”
“I’m afraid I’ll remember myself.”
The lift stopped.
A red emergency light came on. The doors opened onto an abandoned transit platform beneath the outer district.
Nolan stepped out first and scanned the tracks. “No soldiers.”
“Yet.”
“You have a route to the water plant?”
“I have a route to the old storm channel.”
“That’s not the plant.”
“It gets us close.”
“And Mika?”
“He’s waiting at the relay station.”
Nolan looked at the comm clipped to my belt. “Call him.”
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Authority can trace an open signal.”
“You think the commander hasn’t already traced us?”
“I think he wants us moving.”
“Why?”
“Because he called me Director.”
Nolan’s mouth tightened. “You think this is a trap.”
“I know it is.”
“Then why are we walking into it?”
“Because my brother is there.”
He caught my sleeve before I could enter the storm channel.
“You don’t go in alone.”
“I’ve gone in alone every day since Mika got sick.”
“Not today.”
His grip was firm. His thumb rested against the inside of my wrist, right over the place where the neural contract burned beneath my skin.
“You don’t get to decide that,” I said.
“I just did.”
“You’re not my commander.”
“No.”
“You’re not my partner.”
“Not yet.”
I pulled my sleeve free. “Keep dreaming.”
“Later,” he said. “After you shoot me.”
I hated the heat that climbed into my face. “Keep talking and I’ll use the last round.”
“On me?”
“On your mouth.”
We entered the storm channel.
The passage narrowed quickly. I moved fast, boots splashing through shallow water. Nolan stayed behind me, close enough that his hand occasionally brushed the back of my coat.
At the next junction, the comm on my belt clicked.
I stopped so hard Nolan nearly walked into me.
“Mika?”
No answer.
The speaker hissed. Then a man’s voice came through, calm and rough.
“Ten minutes, runner. Or the kid stops breathing.”
Nolan’s hand closed around my shoulder.
I reached for the comm.
The voice continued, “And if you try to—”