Chapter 11 · The Replacement Pulse

"Stay with me, Calder! Eyes on me!"

My palm's flat on his chest and he's burning straight through his jacket. Too hot. Way too fast.

His eyes slide right past me. Pupils blown wide.

"Mara?" he rasps. "Who — who are you?"

"Don't. Don't you dare do that." I grab his face with both hands, skin to skin. "You look at me. You said you'd anchor. You said you'd hold, remember?"

The archive light strobes over us. That copied file hums in the air between us, but Dax is listing sideways.

"Dax, you're slipping. Talk to me!" Leo's dead weight is still hooked over his other arm, breathing shallow.

And the anchor core behind the glass just pulses. Again. Louder.

Thump.

The whole floor shakes with it.

"Dax! Hey!" I shake him, hard. "Say my name. Mara Venn. Courier. Pain in your ass. Say it!"

"Mara," he repeats, slow, like he's tasting it. His hands clamp on my wrists. Not sweet-hard. Scared-hard. "Mara Venn. The lock —"

The tribunal lock between us flares. That thin red line chaining his wrist to mine goes white-hot.

"Yeah, that. Stay with it. Stay with me."

"Anchor requires one living pulse. Continuous.