Chapter 22 · The Brother at the Door

The lock turned from the other side.

Nessa caught Dorian by the front of his coat before he could touch the handle again.

“Don’t.”

His hand stopped inches from the brass wheel. Blood ran down his wrist, black-red under the weak wall lamps. His curse had crawled halfway up his throat now, dark branching lines pulsing under his skin every time he breathed.

“I wasn’t going to force it,” he said.

“You were leaning.”

“I lean when I’m dying.”

“Try dying somewhere useful.”

Behind them, Elias made a rough sound that might have been a laugh if his ribs weren’t cracked.

“Nice,” he muttered. “Very moving reunion situation.”

Nessa didn’t look at him.

The door clicked again.

Not open. Just one more turn.

On the iron plate, the burning letters still read ELIAS QUILL.

Elias saw them too. His face went gray under the blood on his cheek.

“I didn’t do that,” he said.

“No shit.” Nessa kept one hand on Dorian’s coat and the other around her knife. “You look about two seconds from passing out.”

“I’m serious, Ness.”

“Don’t call me that.”

The door opened a finger’s width.

Cold air rolled through the crack. Not normal cold.