I caught his wrist before the fire could leave it.
The black flame jumped from him into me.
This time I felt it tear through my chest.
I cried out and bent over.
Something hammered beneath my ribs.
Once.
Twice.
The fire spread across my sternum, burning cold enough to make my teeth ache.
Riven's hand closed around mine.
"Talia, let go."
"I am trying."
"No. You are holding it."
"Then make it stop!"
"I cannot."
"You are the heir. You are the dangerous one. Do something!"
"It is not obeying me anymore."
The Warden dragged himself through the doorway.
"Help!" he shouted. "The heir has lost control!"
Riven ignored him.
His focus stayed on me.
"Look at me," he said.
"I am busy not dying."
"Look at me."
His voice cut through the pain.
I looked up.
He was close again, one hand around my wrist, the other braced beside my head. His breath came hot against my cheek. His hair brushed my forehead when the room shook.
"You can push it down," he said.
"That sounds like a lie."
"It is not."
"You said you cannot control it."
"I cannot. You can."
"Why?"
His mouth tightened.
"Because you took it."
"That is not an explanation."
"It is the only one I have."
The fire surged.
My knees buckled.
Riven caught me around the waist and pulled me against him. His coat scraped my cheek. The muscles in his arm locked hard around my back.
"Stay with me," he said.
"Do not order me around."
"Then stay because you want to."
"I do not want to die in an alley with a stranger."
"I am not a stranger."
"You are absolutely a stranger. You grabbed me, used me as a shield, and set a building on fire."
"You stole my power."
"You keep bringing that up."
"It matters."
"So does the part where I am still standing."
He lowered his forehead until it almost touched mine.
"Push it down, Talia."
The use of my name made my fingers curl against his shirt.
"Tell me how."
"Think of the fire as a door."
"I hate doors."
"Then think of it as a mouth. Close it."
"That is worse."
A broken laugh escaped him. It ended in a cough.
Blood touched his lips.
The sight snapped something into place.
"You are dying," I said.
"Not if you help me."
"And what do I get?"
"Your life."
"That is already mine."
"Not for long if the Wardens find you."
"You are terrible at negotiating."
"I am running out of time."
His arm tightened around me.
The fire pressed against my ribs, wild and furious. I reached inside it with the same instinct I used on locks and wards. I found the place where it gathered, the knot of power under all that heat.
It resisted.
I clenched my jaw.
"You said close the door."
"Yes."
"It is biting me."
"Bite back."
"You really do not know how to help people."
"You are still alive."
"Barely."
"Then complain later."
I wrapped my fingers around the knot.
The fire screamed.
Riven's arms locked around me. His chest hit mine as he pulled me closer, keeping me upright. His pulse beat against my palm. Fast. Too fast.
"Talia," he said.
"What?"
"If you pull too hard, you will take all of it."
"And if I do not?"
"It takes me."
"How long?"
"Seconds."
"You could have mentioned that before I touched you."
"You were busy arguing."
"I can multitask."
The fire rose into my throat.
My vision blurred at the edges.
Riven's face stayed sharp in front of me. His silver eyes. The cut beneath his lip. The tension in his jaw as he fought to stay conscious.
"Tell me your full name," I said.
"Why?"
"Power likes names."
"That is not how this works."
"You want me to save you or not?"
He hesitated.
That hesitation told me the name mattered.
"Riven Ash," he said.
The fire pulled harder.
The room flashed black.
"Again."
"Riven Ash."
"Say it like you mean to keep breathing."
His hand slid from my shoulder to the back of my neck. His fingers were hot against my skin, careful despite the strength in them.
"Riven Ash," he said, closer now. "And you are Talia Quill. The thief who never misses a delivery. The girl with a city contract around her throat. The woman who lies when she is afraid."
My eyes narrowed.
"You do not know me."
"I know you are scared."
"I am not."
"Your hand is shaking."
"Your hand is on my neck."
"You could move it."
"You could take it away."
Neither of us moved.
The black fire pressed between us, then dropped into the center of my chest.
I pulled.
Riven cried out.
The sound hit me harder than the pain.
Every black line under his skin rushed toward my hand. His body jerked. His grip around my waist nearly crushed the breath from me.
"Hold on," he said.
"That was my plan."
"No. Hold on to me."
"You are not exactly easy to hold."
"Talia."
I wrapped one arm around his back.
His coat was rough beneath my fingers. His heat soaked through it. For one strange second, the room narrowed to his breath against my temple and the hard beat of his heart beneath my palm.
Then I forced the fire down.
It folded.
Once.
Twice.
The black flame vanished beneath my skin.
Riven dropped to one knee.
I went down with him, still gripping his wrist.
The room filled with smoke and the sharp smell of scorched paper. The Wardens were gone. The rear door stood open, showing a narrow lane beyond it.
Riven braced one hand against the floor.
"You did it," he said.
"Do not sound surprised."
"I am surprised."
"You should work on your compliments."
He looked at me.
The black marks under his skin had faded, but they had not disappeared. They rested beneath his throat like a warning.
"You pulled the fire out of me."
"Briefly."
"That has never happened."
"I am full of unpleasant surprises."
"You have no idea what you just took."
"Then tell me."
He started to stand.
I caught his arm.
"Careful."
"I do not need help."
"You are on one knee in a burning print shop. You absolutely need help."
"If you touch me again, it may come back."
"The fire?"
"The fire."
His eyes dropped to our hands.
His thumb rested against the inside of my wrist. The contact was barely there, but my skin noticed every inch of it.
I pulled away first.
"Fine. No touching."
Riven stood without my help.
He made it two steps.
Then he stopped.
His head turned toward me.
"Stay close."
"You just said no touching."
"I said no touching if you want the fire to stay quiet."
"And if I stay close?"
"It may hold."
"How close?"
"Ten steps."
"You have got to be kidding."
"I am not."