Chapter 32 · Uninvited Guest

A hand clamped over my mouth before I could warn Lyra.

She spun hard, driving her elbow toward my ribs. I caught it inches from my side and pulled her back against me.

Her boot came down on my foot.

I bit back a curse.

"Take your hand off me."

"If I do, you scream."

"I don't scream."

"You stab people. Different problem."

Her breath hit my fingers, warm and sharp with the bitter tea she'd been drinking. Her back pressed against my chest. Even through two layers of cloth, I felt every tense shift of her shoulders as she tried to break my grip.

Behind us, three sets of boots scraped across the stone floor.

Not tower guards. Too quiet. Too careful.

The first stalker whispered, "She came through here."

The second answered, "The contract says alive. The shadow thing can be killed."

Lyra stopped fighting.

Only for half a second.

Then she sank her teeth into my palm.

I jerked my hand away. She twisted out of my hold and shoved me into a stack of broken crates.

"You could've said stalkers," she hissed.

"You could've listened."

"You had your hand on my mouth.