Chapter 2

"Take your hand off me."

"You first."

"I'm not touching you."

"You touched my blood." His voice stayed low. That made it worse. "Then you looked at me like you knew where I'd buried you. So try again. Why do you remember?"

Lena glanced down at the blade. It rested flat against her coat, close enough to cut if she breathed too deep.

"Maybe I've got a good memory."

Cade shoved her harder into the wall.

"You died yesterday."

"So did you."

His eyes sharpened.

Lena smiled without warmth. "There. That's the part you didn't expect me to know."

"I expect you to lie."

"Then stop asking questions you don't want answered."

His thumb shifted over her pulse. Heat slipped through her sleeve. He felt her heartbeat jump. Of course he did. Cade noticed everything when he was deciding how to kill someone.

"The city reset at dawn," he said. "You woke up in the same cell. I woke up with a cut across my hand and your blood under my nails. You said my name before I told you who I was."

"You had a memorable knife."

"You also said, 'Not the throat this time.'"

Her smile vanished.

Cade leaned closer. His breath brushed her cheek, warm against the cold stone behind her.

"How many times?"

"Move."

"How many times have I killed you?"

She drove her knee up.

Cade caught it against his thigh and shoved her leg back down. His knife hand never wavered. His other hand kept her wrist pinned above her head.

"Cute," he murmured. "Try answering."

"Nine."

The word hit harder than her knee.

For half a second, his grip loosened.

Lena twisted free, ducked under his arm, and drove her fist into the wound beneath his ribs. Cade made a rough sound and caught himself against the wall.

Blood slipped between his fingers.

"Nine," she said. "You killed me nine times."

He looked at the blood on his hand. "I remember one."

"You remember the last one."

"I remember all nine now."

The alley seemed to squeeze shut around them.

Cade lifted his head. The confusion was gone from his face. Anger had taken its place.

Something worse waited behind it.

"Don't look at me like that," Lena said. "You don't get to be offended. You put the blade in my throat every time."

"You were condemned."

"I know. I was there."

"You burned half the eastern ward."

"I didn't."

"You stole a spirit key from the institute."

"I did."

"You killed three wardens."

"They tried to kill me first."

"And you still think you're innocent?"

Lena stepped closer instead of backing away. The knife tip touched her coat. One more inch and it would reach skin.

"No," she said. "I think I'm alive. There's a difference."

His gaze dropped to her mouth for one quick, dangerous second.

Then it snapped back to her eyes.

"You don't get to play brave with me."

"I'm not playing. You're bleeding."

"You did that."

"You grabbed me."

"You attacked me."

"You threatened to cut me open."

"I threatened to cut your throat."

"See? That's not better."

The corner of his mouth twitched. Not a smile. Almost one.

He pressed his hand over the wound and straightened. Blood ran between his fingers.

Lena's stomach tightened.

Not pity. She didn't have enough of that left for him.

A memory struck anyway.

The execution block. Her knees on the stone. The crowd screaming for her death. Cade's blade sliding into her throat.

Then his hand catching the back of her head before she fell.

His coat around her shoulders.

His body between hers and the crowd.

Every time.

Another death flashed through her mind. Then another. Cade standing over her after the blade went in, forcing the guards back when they tried to drag her away.

Once, he'd punched a magistrate in the mouth.

Once, he'd carried her down the steps himself.

He had killed her.

He had guarded her corpse like it belonged to him.

Lena blinked hard and found the alley again.

Cade caught the movement. "What did you see?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie."

"You first."

He pushed away from the wall. Pain tightened his jaw, but he buried it fast.

"You saw the executions."

"I saw you."

That stopped him.

Lena reached for the torn edge of his coat. He caught her fingers before they touched the blood.

"Don't."

"You want answers? Hold still."

"I don't need you playing healer."

"Good. I don't care if you heal. I care if you can walk."

His fingers closed around hers.

The blood pact answered beneath her skin. Heat flashed through her hand, sharp and bright, like a wire pulled tight.

Cade felt it too. His eyes dropped to their joined hands.

"There," Lena said. "That's why we remember."

"The pact."

"You signed it when you grabbed me in the square."

"I didn't sign anything."

"Your blood touched mine. The city heard it."

"You did this."

"I was trying not to die."

"You always have an excuse."

"And you always have a knife. We all have hobbies."

He dragged her closer by their linked hands.

Her chest brushed his coat. Rough wool caught against her sleeve. His body heat pressed through the narrow space between them.

"How do we break it?" he asked.

"We don't."

His stare went cold. "Wrong answer."

"It's not a normal pact. I tried to cut it out before the reset. It grew back with me."

"Then you know how to remove it."

"I know how to stop it from killing us."

"There are locks under the city."

Lena said nothing.

That was enough.

Cade's grip tightened. "How many?"

"Nine."

"And one of them is in this building."

"You saw the mark."

"I saw you stare at the wall."

"You were busy trying to murder me."

"I can multitask."

A low chime rolled through the bricks.

The pact flared between them.

Cade turned toward the sealed door at the end of the alley. His stance changed at once. Hurt, cornered, and still putting himself between Lena and the threat.

"You hear that?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Then let go."

"No."

"The lock won't open with you holding me down."

"You need both hands?"

"I need you alive."

His expression hardened. "That sounds almost caring."

"Don't get excited. If you die, the pact takes me with you."

"And if I let you touch the lock?"

"You get answers."

"No. I get a dead partner and a curse tied to my ribs."

"You already have that."

He studied her face.

The weak alley light caught the cut on her lower lip—the one he'd given her in the previous run. His gaze lingered there.

Lena felt it. Every second of it.

She hated that she did.

"You don't trust me," he said.

"You kill me."

"You know what the city tells you."

"You stole my execution seal."

"You were using it on me."

"You stabbed me with it."

"You were in the way."

"I was assigned to kill you."

"And yet you kept protecting my body."

His face tightened.

A pause. A rough breath.

Enough.

Lena stepped into him, keeping their hands locked. "Why?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You stood over me after every kill."

"You remember that?"

"You pushed the guards back. You covered my face. You carried me away when the crowd wanted pieces of me."

"Stop."

"Why did you do it?"

"I said stop."

"Did you feel bad? Was that it? The city's favorite executioner has a conscience?"

His free hand struck the wall beside her head.

Stone cracked under his palm.

Lena didn't flinch.

His chest was inches from hers now. Heat rolled off him through two layers of cloth. His face lowered until his breath touched the corner of her mouth.

One careless move, and there'd be no space left between them.

"You want to know why?" he asked.

"I want to know why you look angry when I mention it."

"Because you keep pretending you know me."

"I know you kill me."

"You know what the city tells you."

"Then tell me something else."

His eyes held hers. The knife at her ribs lowered by a fraction.

"No."

"Coward."

The lock chimed again.

Louder.

The sealed door split down the middle. Black metal peeled apart without a sound, revealing stairs that dropped beneath the alley.

Cade moved first. He shoved Lena behind him and raised his knife.

"I can walk in front," she said.

"You can walk behind me."

"You don't give orders."

"I just did."

"And I just ignored you."

She slipped past his shoulder.

Cade caught the back of her coat and yanked her against him. Her spine hit his chest. His arm locked across her waist, holding her still while his breath brushed her ear.

"One step ahead of me," he said, "and I break your ankle."

"Try it and I break your other ribs."

"You're welcome to try."

"Keep holding me like this and I won't need to."

His arm went still.

For one beat, neither of them moved.

Then something scraped below the stairs.

Cade released her and shoved a short blade into her hand.

"Stay close."

"You just threatened my ankle."

"I changed my mind."

"How generous."

They descended together.

The stairs shifted under their feet. Each step slid into a different place after they used it. Lena grabbed the railing. Cade caught her elbow before she fell.

"Don't touch me."

"Then stop trying to die before I can stop it."

"You say that like it's your job."

"It is."

At the bottom, a round chamber waited behind a second door.

A silver lock sat in the center of the floor, no bigger than Lena's palm. Spell lines crawled across its surface. She knew the pattern better than her own handwriting.

She crouched.

Cade stood over her. "What does it do?"

"It asks a question."

"And if we answer wrong?"

"The room closes."

"On us?"

"On our bones."

He stared down at her. "You could've mentioned that."

"You didn't ask nicely."

"I never ask nicely."

"I noticed."

Lena held two fingers above the lock.

The spell lines crawled toward her skin, tasting the stolen magic threaded through her blood.

The lock rejected her.

Pain snapped up her arm.

Cade grabbed her shoulder. "Move."

"Get off me."

"You're burning."

"I said—"

The lock flared.

A thread of silver light jumped from the metal to Cade's wounded side.

He staggered.

Lena caught him before he hit the floor. His weight drove her down beside him. His hand landed against her waist, tight and instinctive.

"You see?" she said through clenched teeth. "It needs both of us."

"Then tell me what to do."

"Put your hand on the lock."

"That simple?"

"No."

"Of course not."

"You have to let it read the pact."

"What does that mean?"

"It means stop fighting me for five seconds."

His eyes cut to hers. "You want me helpless."

"I want the lock open."

"Same thing, with you."

She pressed her palm over his and pushed both hands toward the silver lock.

His fingers flexed beneath hers. His skin was hot. His breathing turned rough, close to her mouth.

"If you betray me," he said, "the pact will tear your heart apart."

"If I betray you, it'll tear yours first."

"Good."

"You sound disappointed."

"I sound prepared."

The lock began to turn.

Silver lines raced across the floor. The chamber walls shuddered. Cade tried to pull away, but the pact snapped tight and dragged his hand back down.

A red band appeared around his wrist.

"Lena."

"Don't move."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"The mark says otherwise."

The band climbed from his wrist to his forearm, bright and thin, like a burning chain beneath the skin.

Cade's jaw clenched.

Lena felt the same heat coil around her own arm.

"It's a restraint," she said.

"You knew this would happen."

"I hoped."

"You used me."

"You were planning to kill me. We're both having a bad morning."

The lock clicked.

The silver disk split open.

A voice came from inside it.

Lena's voice.

Older. Hoarse. Terrified.

"First lock accepted. Trial subject one—"