Chapter 9 · Blood Bounties and Bone Saws

"Get your head down or lose it!" Vesper screamed, her voice raw.

She slammed her shoulder into Lucian’s wheelchair, shoving him behind a rusted shipping crate just as a volley of high-caliber rounds shredded the air where his head had been a second ago. Dust and metal shards rained down on them. Lucian didn't flinch. He just stared at the blood soaking through the bandages on his legs, his eyes cold and distant.

"You're bleeding out," Vesper hissed, her hands shaking as she checked the wound. "Dammit, Lucian, why aren't you panicking?"

"Panicking doesn't stop the bleeding," he replied, his voice a low, steady rasp. "But it does make you miss the target."

"What target? You're in a chair!"

"Look up," he whispered.

Vesper glanced up. Three figures in matte-black tactical gear were closing in, moving with a synchronized, predatory grace. They weren't just mercenaries; they were Inquisition kill squads. The kind that didn't take prisoners. One of them stepped forward, a jagged serrated blade humming with a faint, sickly yellow light.

"The crippled bird is still chirping," the lead mercenary sneered. "Bounty's higher if we bring back the head.