Chapter 14 · Crushed Flight Path

The powder was still on my tongue.

Grit and blood. That was all that was left of Mia's chip. Lucian had ground it between two fingers like it was salt, and now it dusted the black marble by my bare foot.

"Thursday," he said again, right against my ear. "Six a.m. Logan, gate B14. Zurich by that night."

I shoved at his chest. It was like shoving the wall.

"Get off me."

"No."

My robe hung in two pieces off my shoulders. Cold air from the glass hit my ribs, and his shirt was hot where it pressed against my stomach. He still had my wrists in one hand, pinned over my head against the wall. The other hand sat flat beside my face, like he was thinking about it.

I hated that I noticed. The tendons in his forearm. A smear of my blood on his knuckle.

"How long?" I said.

"How long what?"

"How long have you known, Lucian?"

He didn't answer right away. That was how I knew it was bad.

"The forger in Providence," he said. "Gray Honda guy. Hands shake when he lies. He called me before you hung up the burner.