Two SUVs sat just beyond the fence, engines growling low, their shadows huge in the firelight. A few men lounged against them, silhouettes sharp and restless, guns gleaming faintly at their sides. Not Knights. That much I could tell instantly. Knights carried themselves with a rigid soldier’s weight. These men were looser, cockier—sharks circling blood.
I slowed, my tires crunching over gravel. The men straightened, attention snapping toward me. One peeled away from the others, stepping into my headlights. He was broad, his jacket heavy with patches stitched in symbols I didn’t recognize, but the smirk on his face was universal. A predator’s grin.
“You must be the delivery girl,” he said, voice thick with amusement.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep my tone level. “I’m here with payment.”
He tapped his knuckles against the hood, like I was a toy he was considering buying. “Cute thing like you, running Knight errands? Didn’t think they trusted outsiders with the good stuff.”
My skin prickled. “The money’s in the trunk. Count it if you want.”
He motioned lazily to his men. They moved like jackals, yanking open the trunk, dragging out heavy duffels stuffed with cash. Zippers hissed, and one of them whistled low.
“Plenty,” he said.
The leader didn’t look at the bags. He just watched me with amusement. His grin sharpened. “And in exchange…”
He snapped his fingers. The second SUV opened, and a crate was hauled out and dropped onto the dirt. The wood creaked under the impact, reinforced by metal bands, stamped with a single black word burned deep into the grain: Muze.
The scent hit me immediately—chemical, sharp, bitter as poison. It made the back of my throat ache.
I kept my face blank. “Deal’s done. I’ll take it from here.”
The man chuckled, shaking his head. “No handshake? No drink for the road? You Knights are colder than rumors say.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. “Just business.”
His eyes lingered on me, longer than I wanted, longer than I could bear. His smirk thinned into something else—something quieter. Hungrier.
“You look familiar,” he said softly. “Got family around here?”
Ice slid down my spine. My pulse thudded hard in my ears.
“No,” I said flatly.
For a breath, he just stared, as though peeling me open, layer by layer, like he could read the name etched into my bones. Spade.
Then, just as suddenly, he grinned again. “Fine. Run along, delivery girl.”
The crate was shoved into the trunk. The slam of metal rang out too loudly in the night.
I got behind the wheel, every muscle stiff, every nerve stretched taut. As I pulled away, I felt his eyes burning into the back of my skull.
Only when the firelight faded behind me and the desert swallowed me up again did I let myself breathe. But the air came in shallow, ragged gasps, and the knot in my chest didn’t ease.
Because I knew tonight hadn’t ended anything.
It had only begun.
The drive back felt longer, the desert darker, the crate heavier, as if the Muze itself was pressing against the air, leeching poison into the car. My fingers itched where they touched the steering wheel. My throat ached with the chemical tang that seemed to bleed from the back seat.
Every bump in the road sent a jolt up my spine, but worse was the silence. With every mile, I felt more certain I was being followed, even if the mirror stayed empty. My mind spun with images of Logan, of Death Dealers waiting just out of sight, of Kaius’s cold gray eyes if I returned with even the smallest mistake.
By the time the lights of the city glowed on the horizon, my whole body was trembling. Not from fear anymore. From exhaustion. From the weight of everything I had to carry.
And from the certainty that the Knights hadn’t sent me out here to succeed.
They had sent me out here to prove I could bleed for them.
