Chapter 20 · The Door in District Nine

"Take your hand off me, Riven, or I swear I’ll break the finger you’re using."

His grip tightened around my wrist.

"Try it."

"Gladly."

I twisted hard. He caught my other arm before I could drive my elbow into his ribs and shoved me against the sealed gate behind us. Iron bars pressed through my coat. His body blocked the narrow alley, his face inches from mine.

That was the problem with the life pact. Riven could keep me from running. I could keep him alive. Neither of us had to like the arrangement.

The black fire under his skin flashed across his throat.

"You’re going to open that door," he said.

"No. I’m going to open the door if you stop treating me like a prisoner."

"You are a prisoner."

I laughed in his face. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you."

His jaw flexed. Warm breath brushed my cheek. He smelled like smoke, old metal, and the bitter medicine he kept pretending he didn’t need.

Behind him, boots struck the stones.

One pair. Then three. Then too many to count.

Riven glanced over his shoulder.