Chapter 7 · The City Hunts Back

"Get off me, Caelan." His hand locked around my wrist hard enough to grind my bones together.

His eyes were wrong.

Not silver. Not human. A pale, furious gold burned through the dark, and his teeth showed when he dragged me closer. My back hit the brick wall. His body blocked the only exit.

"Caelan," I said again. "Look at me."

He lowered his face until his breath brushed my cheek. Hot. Rough. Carrying the sharp, metallic smell of blood.

"You smell like them," he growled.

"That is not a compliment."

His fingers tightened.

Pain shot up my arm. The bond between us flashed under my skin, a thin black line circling my wrist. It had been red when we made the deal. Now it looked burned into me.

"Let go," I snapped.

"You brought them here."

"I brought you here alive. There is a difference."

His head jerked toward the boarded windows. Somewhere outside, boots hit the street. More than six pairs. Maybe ten.

The city had found us.

Caelan's grip shifted. His thumb pressed against my pulse.

"Hunters," he said.

"Very good. Your brain is still working. Try using it before you tear my arm off.