"Don't move. Not a muscle." The muzzle jams under my jaw before I can breathe.
My back slams into the service tunnel wall. Cold metal vibrates against my spine.
Dax Calder's got me pinned. Full Judge blacks. Gun in one hand, my life in the other. And the sirens overhead are screaming.
"You're really gonna do it?" I choke out. "Shoot me just to save your own ass?"
"I'm a Judge, Venn. I follow orders." His voice is low. Rough. But his hand's shaking.
I feel it. The tremor in the barrel.
He's not as steady as he wants me to think.
Then — ping.
Sharp. Digital. Right out of our chests.
[COUNTDOWN: 00:45 TO TERMINATION]
"Forty-five seconds," I whisper. My eyes lock on his. "We both die in forty-five if you don't cheat this thing. You think the Tribunal cares if you're a good soldier when you're a corpse?"
"Shut up." He crowds me harder. Heat rolls off him — leather, burnt cedar, sweat. Too close. I can see the gold flecks in his eyes, pupils blown wide with adrenaline.
"I can override the lock," he snaps. "I need the sequence off your wrist mark."
"The reset mark? You can't read that."
He slams his palm against the wall by my head. Boxes me in. "I can if I'm close enough to sync. Give me your arm. Now."
"Why should I?" I tip my chin up into the gun. Hard. "Maybe I let the clock hit zero. Take you with me. Maybe that's the only fair trial I get."
His eyes go dark. He leans in, mouth almost brushing my ear. His breath is hot.
"Because I'm the only one who can get you to the lower sectors without a dozen Peacekeepers painting the wall with your brains," he murmurs. "You want your brother or not?"
My stomach drops. "How do you—"
"I've read your file, Venn. I know everything they want me to know. Your. Arm."
I shove my wrist at him. The skin around the mark is raw, burning.
He grabs me. Not gentle. Iron fingers, tight enough to bruise. He yanks me flush against him.
Rough courier canvas scrapes his polished uniform. My chest hits his. I can feel his heart hammering through the layers.
"Hold still," he mutters.
He presses his palm to my wrist — skin to skin — and my chest explodes.
Not pain. Heat. A hard, rhythmic pull, like my heart's being dragged out of my ribs and slammed into his.
[SYNCING... 12%... 24%...]
"What is this?" I gasp. My knees buckle.
He catches me. One arm locks around my waist, hauls me up. Doesn't let go. His chest heaves against mine.
"It's a tether," he groans. His voice is strained. "The lock doesn't just watch us. It fuses us. Uses us as a battery."
"A battery for what?"
He jerks his chin back.
Behind us, the blast doors groan. Then slam.
BOOM.
The whole tunnel shakes. Dust rains down. Seamless steel, no handle, no keypad. Sealed.
[SYNCING... 58%...]
"We're trapped," I breathe. Panic spikes. "Dax, we're in a dead end!"
"I know that!" He lets go — finally — and the loss of his heat leaves me cold. He paces, gun still up, eyes hunting for a seam that isn't there. "The Tribunal didn't want you dead. They wanted us contained. This whole tunnel's a cell."
"So we just wait for zero?"
He stops. Looks at the lock glowing on his chest, then at mine. Gold light, pulsing in sync.
"It feeds on the sync," he says. "If we push it to a hundred, it might trip the emergency release. Judge fail-safe."
"And how do we do that?" I cross my arms. My wrist still burns where he touched me. "More hugging?"
"Don't push it." His jaw tightens. "We need constant contact. Skin to skin. High stress. It feeds on intensity."
I let out a sharp laugh. "Intensity? I've spent three loops figuring out how to kill you without getting blown up. I got intensity."
He's on me in one step. No gun this time. He grabs my jacket collar and yanks me forward till we're nose to nose.
"Prove it," he whispers.
I don't flinch. I fist his high collar, bunch that expensive fabric and pull him closer. His heat hits me in a wave.
"You're a monster, Calder," I hiss. "You love this. The hunt. The power. People shaking when you walk in."
"And you're a liar," he shoots back, voice dropping. "Little thief who thought she could outrun the law. You're just a glitch."
"Then why haven't you pulled the trigger?" I challenge. My breath snags. "What's stopping you?"
He doesn't answer. He leans in till his forehead almost touches mine. I can feel his breath on my lips. His hand slides from my shoulder to the small of my back, fingers splayed, pressing me tight.
The air's too thick to breathe.
This isn't attraction. It's collision. Hate and desperation with nowhere to go.
[SYNCING... 82%... 91%... 94%...]
"It's working," I whisper. I still haven't let go of his collar.
"I know." His thumb presses into my spine. Electric. A shiver rips down my back that has nothing to do with the cold.
We stand locked — breath, heartbeat, that gold light humming louder, shimmering around us.
"If we get out of this," I say, voice shaking, "I'm still gonna make you regret today."
"Counting on it," he murmurs.
The light snaps.
Gold to violent red. The hum to a scream.
My chest caves. Like something sucked the air right out of my lungs.
"Something's wrong," he grits out. His whole body goes rigid.
"Dax — stop! It's hurting!" The mark on my wrist sears white-hot. The pull turns vicious, draining instead of fusing.
He tries to let go. He can't. The lock's got us magnetized, fused palm to wrist, chest to chest.
He looks down at his own chest. Face goes pale.
[SYNCING... 99%...]
"The seal," he gasps. "It's not opening. It's — it's finalizing the execution."
My heart stutters. The display flickers at ninety-nine, pulsing faster, hotter.
Then his pulse drops. Hard. His knees give out and his weight crashes into me.
"Dax — your chest — look, it's—"