Chapter 5

Lucan watched the ink crawl toward my blood.

"That isn't a condition. That's revenge."

"Yes."

"And if Bram is innocent?"

"Then your vault can prove it."

"If the evidence clears him, you walk away."

"If the evidence clears him, I was wrong."

"You say that like it costs you nothing."

"It costs me my life."

That shut him up.

For the first time, his eyes moved over my face without contempt. His attention caught on the black lines under my skin, then the blood on my thumb.

"You are afraid," he said quietly.

I forced the words out before my throat closed around them.

"I am."

Lucan's hand lowered to his side.

I pushed my thumb harder into the paper. "I am more afraid of dying the same way twice."

The bond answered.

Black ink shot across the strip and wrapped around my finger.

Pain flashed through my hand.

Lucan swore and grabbed my wrist again.

This time, the mark jumped from my skin to his.

A thin black line appeared beneath his palm.

His eyes dropped to it.

"You didn't tell me it would do that."

"I didn't know it would."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I expect you to open the vault."

The paper burned between us. The bond tightened, pulling our wrists together until his knuckles brushed mine.

A pulse moved through the ink.

Once.

Twice.

Then the evidence room door slammed shut behind us.

Locks dropped into place.

Lucan looked at the sealed door, then at me.

"You just activated the protection clause."

"Your contract has a protection clause?"

"It means the bond won't let either of us leave the evidence wing until the first truth is exchanged."

"Convenient."

"I didn't write that clause."

"But you knew it was there."

"I knew there was a clause. Not this one."

The black line tightened around our wrists.

I stepped back.

Lucan was dragged forward with me.

His chest brushed mine. Heat spread through my coat, right through the fabric. His hand landed at my waist to keep us from crashing into the shelves.

"Don't touch me," I said.

"Then stop pulling."

"I'm not pulling."

"The bond doesn't care what you call it."

His hand stayed at my waist one second too long.

I looked down at it.

"Move it."

"Ask nicely."

"Move your hand, or I break your fingers."

"There she is."

He shifted his grip, but didn't fully let go.

The position was humiliating. My back against the shelves. His body between me and the exit. Our wrists tied by black light.

A prisoner and her jailer.

Except his breathing had gone uneven too.

"First truth," he said. "You stole the sample because you think it proves the evidence against you was changed."

"It does."

The bond pulsed.

Lucan's face tightened.

"You believe Bram ordered the murder."

"I know he did."

The ink burned hotter.

I sucked in a breath.

Lucan looked at me. "You don't know. You suspect."

"I saw the blood trail."

"Nine months ago."

"I saw it before they dragged me to the stage. The curse residue belonged to a Black Seal handler. Not me."

The mark loosened around our wrists.

Lucan went still.

"You never said that in the trial."

"I did. No one listened."

"Who was the handler?"

"I couldn't see the face. The blood had been mixed with ash and grave salt. Someone wanted the reading blurred."

"Why steal the sample now?"

"Because the original sample should still carry the first layer of the curse. The forged report was made from a copy."

Lucan stared at the vial.

"If you're right, the original can tell us who touched the murder weapon before the curse was planted."

"Now you understand why I need the vault."

"I understand why you need me."

"Don't sound so pleased."

"I'm not pleased. I'm deciding how much trouble you're worth."

"You already signed."

His eyes flicked to our joined wrists.

"So did you."

A metal click sounded inside the wall.

The shelf behind me shifted.

Lucan grabbed my waist and pulled me sideways as a narrow passage opened where the shelves had been. Dust spilled across the floor.

I hit his chest again.

"You could've warned me."

"You would've argued."

"I would've made a better choice."

"You would've died outside the door."

"You keep saying that like you care."

His gaze caught mine.

"I care about getting my evidence back."

"Liar."

The bond pulsed.

Pain tore through both our wrists.

Lucan's breath broke.

I felt the same sharp burn under my ribs.

The contract had heard me.

He lowered his head until his mouth was close to my ear.

"Careful, Nora. One lie from either of us, and the bond takes blood."

"Then tell me the truth."

"About what?"

"Why do you need me alive?"

He didn't answer.

The line around our wrists tightened.

A bead of dark blood welled beneath his skin.

His jaw locked.

"Lucan."

"Because the traitor is inside the Black Seal."

"That's not enough."

"It's what you're getting."

"Then the contract is already useless."

I turned toward the passage.

The bond yanked us both forward.

Lucan caught my hand before I stumbled. His fingers closed around mine, palm to palm, and the contact sent another hot pulse through the ink.

Neither of us let go.

Not right away.

The passage ended at a black iron door with no handle. Lucan pressed his free hand to the seal.

The door rejected him.

A red line cut across his palm.

He hissed.

"It wants both of us," he said.

"Your vault has excellent manners."

"Put your hand beside mine."

"And if it takes my arm?"

"Then I lose my vault."

"That isn't comforting."

"I wasn't trying to comfort you."

I placed my palm against the iron.

His hand sat beside mine, close enough for our knuckles to touch.

The door drank our blood.

A deep lock turned somewhere below us.

The black seal split down the center.

Beyond it sat a single box on a stone table.

No shelves. No files. No council records.

Just one black box, chained shut.

Lucan's breathing changed.

"You know it?" I asked.

"I've seen the seal."

"That's not what I asked."

"Don't start."

"You brought me here."

"You forced your way here."

"You signed the bond."

"So did you."

The chains fell away from the box one by one.

Lucan moved in front of me.

I grabbed the back of his coat and pulled him aside.

"Don't block me."

"If this is trapped—"

"Then we'll both bleed. Apparently that's our arrangement now."

The lid clicked.

It opened two inches.

A cold red glow leaked through the gap.

The same color as the death order.

The same color as the mark under my skin.

Lucan caught my wrist. "Wait."

"For what? Permission?"

"For me to check the seal."

"You had nine months to check it."

His face hardened. "You think I didn't try?"

"I think you were there when I died."

"And I think you have no idea what you saw."

The lid opened wider.

A stack of papers rested inside.

The top page carried a date.

Nine months ago.

Under it, in thick black ink, one heading stared back at me.

EXECUTION LIST.

My knees locked.

Lucan's fingers tightened around my wrist.

"Nora—"

I reached for the page.

My name sat at the top.

NORA BELL.

Beneath it were three blank spaces, as if three more people had been meant to die beside me.

The ink on my name was still wet.

"That's impossible," Lucan said.

"You said the order was nine months old."

"It is."

"Then why is the ink fresh?"

He stepped closer, shoulder brushing mine. "Don't touch it."

"You don't get to order me around."

"Nora, don't—"

I touched the name.

The box slammed open.

Red light burst across the vault.

Lucan doubled over beside me.

He coughed once.

A smear of black blood hit the execution list, spreading over my name.

I grabbed his coat as he dropped to one knee.

"Lucan?"

He lifted his head, black blood on his lips.

The mark around our wrists tightened until it cut into both of us.

His eyes locked on mine.

"Don't read the next name," he rasped, reaching for the page—