Chapter 17 · The Corpse Says His Name

The dead man sat up.

Not all the way. Just enough to drag his shoulders off the black stone floor and make every guard in the archive room stumble back at once.

Malrec Vane's neck bent wrong. His jaw hung open. Blood dribbled from one nostril, thick and dark, sliding over his lip.

Then he looked straight at Nessa.

"Don't let them take me."

Colin's voice.

Nessa forgot how to breathe.

Her brother had always rushed his words when he was scared. Like he could outrun the bad part if he got to the end of the sentence first. That was Colin. That was him. Not some blood-engine trick. Not a memory pulled from her head.

"Colin?" Her voice cracked on the name.

Dorian's arm locked across her stomach before she could move.

"No," he said, low and hard.

"That's my brother."

"That's a dead man wearing your brother's voice."

Malrec's eyes rolled toward the ceiling. The irises had gone pale silver, almost colorless, except for a dark red ring around each pupil.

Sable Renn stood near the broken archive door with one hand raised. Her guards had blood-spears ready, but none of them wanted to be first.

Smart men.