Chapter 18 · The Woman Inside the Black Box

The safe door slammed shut three inches from Seren’s face.

Nora threw her shoulder into it. “Move, damn you!”

“I’m trying.” Seren jammed the memory key into the lock. The metal teeth caught, slipped, then caught again. Behind them, rifles cracked through the archive haze.

Ian sagged against the wall, one hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder. Blood ran between his fingers and dripped onto the floor in neat, stupid little taps.

“Seren,” he said, breathless. “The grid’s awake.”

“I noticed.”

The lock flashed red.

Nora swore. “That’s not a door code.”

“No,” Ian said. “It’s a person code.”

Seren looked at him. “What does that mean?”

“It means the archive wants one of us to volunteer.”

Another bullet punched through the door. The metal jumped. Nora ducked, then grabbed Ian by the collar and hauled him away from the center line.

“Volunteer for what?” she snapped.

Ian’s face had gone gray. “The defense grid reads memory signatures. If it doesn’t recognize us, it burns the nervous system until it finds a match.”

“Great,” Nora said. “And here I was worried we’d have a boring night.”

The lock clicked.

Seren pulled the key free.