Chapter 20 · The Thirteenth Death

"Get your hands off her!"

Calder’s voice cracked, raw and desperate. He slammed into me, his shoulder hitting my chest hard enough to knock the wind out of me. He shoved me away from the glass tube where my mother lay suspended in that shimmering, sickly gold fluid.

"Careful, Officer," The First Seat purred. He didn't even move from his lounge position. He looked exactly like Calder, but the eyes were wrong—too wide. Too hungry. "You'll break your little pet before she can finish the job."

I scrambled back, boots slipping on the metallic floor. I couldn't look at Calder. I was staring at her. My mother. Her skin was translucent, wires threaded into her temples like silver spiders.

She wasn't a prisoner. She was a battery. The whole damn city was running on her pulse.

"She’s alive," I whispered. "Calder, she’s still breathing."

"She’s a ghost in a machine, Lena," Calder snapped. He stepped between me and the Core, his hand gripping my wrist so tight it bruised. He wasn't looking at the tube. He was staring at the black ring on my finger, pulsing in sync with his own heart. "Look at the readings. The Core is spiking.