Chapter 20 · Sable's Dirty Tab
The maintenance door slammed shut behind us hard enough to shake rust from the ceiling.
On the other side, silver chains scraped over concrete.
Dorian hit the wall beside me with one hand clamped over his side. Blood ran between his fingers. Not red. Too dark. Too thick. It smelled like hot pennies and burned fur.
“Open it,” the silver-haired woman called through the door. Her voice came calm and clear. Like she was asking room service for extra towels. “You’re making this worse, Mara.”
“Yeah?” I backed away from the door. My wrist still hurt where the dying man had grabbed me days ago. “Put it on a greeting card.”
Sable had her gun up, pointed at the metal door, even though bullets were not going to do much against a council witch with silver chains and an army outside.
Her face had gone gray.
The old burner phone lay on the floor between us. The screen had died after my mother’s voice said one thing that kept digging into my skull.
Find Sable. She knows where I am.
Dorian slid down the wall an inch, then caught himself. His eyes flashed gold.
“Mara.” His voice came out rough.
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