I try to ignite my ruby, but it flickers, then sputters out entirely. The presence inside me—Astrafel, whatever he is—stirs. Not with anger, but disapproval.
“Here.” Kane extends his hand, a basic-cut ruby ring glowing on his finger. “Standard issue, but it’ll do the job.” Warm air rushes over us, drying clothes and skin. He shoves my pendant in the bottom of the bag and hides his ring in pocket.
“How much time do we have before they realize we jumped?”
“Not long.” Kane peers around the corner, checking the street. “But we’ve got a shot if we stick to the shadows. The station’s crowded this time of day, with workers heading home after their shift. We blend in, keep our heads down.” He grins, and for a moment I see past the glamour to the cunning card shark beneath. “Maybe we pull off this impossible escape after all.”
I follow him deeper into the maze of the Rift District, leaving the golden towers of my old life behind as the presence in my blood settles into watchful silence.
We slip through narrow alleys, past overflowing dumpsters and scurrying rats. The station looms ahead, a hulking mass of steel and concrete, and I step forward, but Kane’s yanks me back into the shadows.
“What the hell—” His palm slaps over my mouth as he points.
A massive figure in a black coat stands near the station entrance. Seven feet of pure muscle and barely contained violence. Thick scars web across his exposed neck and jaw, trophies from victims who fought back and lost. The crowd bends around him. They don’t realize why. Their bodies just know.
“Smoke,” Kane whispers, voice tight. “Kian’s newest pet project. Used to be one of the Waste’s most notorious killers until Kian gave him a better outlet for his . . . talents. No emotion, no mercy. Only pure instinct, and a love for making people break. Even the other guards are terrified of him.” His jaw clenches. “They’ve already figured out we jumped. Didn’t expect them to move this fast.”
“What do we do?” My heart hammers against my ribs as Smoke scans the crowd. His head moves in precise increments, those dead eyes cataloging every face with cold efficiency. Even the enforcer patrols give him a wide berth, and these are men trained not to show fear.
Kane surveys the alley, his gaze settling on a rusted sewer grate wedged behind collapsed crates and a crumbling support beam. “There’s an access tunnel on the far side.” He crouches, fingers hooking into the grooves of warped metal. “Hope you weren’t too fond of those clothes.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Very.” The grate groans open, revealing a black tunnel that seems to lead straight into hell. “Ladies first.”
The stench greets me as I crouch down; rot and waste and gods know what else. I gag, yanking my sleeve over my face, but it does nothing to dull the assault. “We’ll reek. Might as well paint targets on our backs.”
“Trust me, princess. I’ve got it covered.” He gestures at the black maw. “Now crawl.”
I lower myself into filth, biting down a curse as cold sludge soaks through every layer. My stomach heaves as I move through the tunnel, trying not to think about what’s actually touching my skin. Each movement sends waves of putrid water splashing against my face.
“You better not be staring at my ass, Kane.” I hiss, aware of him crowding close at my back.
His chuckle echoes behind me, the sound bouncing off the curved walls. “Please. I’ve seen the goods. You were half-clothed and fully feral every time you mounted Dom like he owed you rent.”
“I’m going to murder you if we survive this.”
My palm slips on something soft and unidentifiable, and I nearly go under. My breath shudders out, bile rising.
“Don’t worry, princess. You’re not my type. Harvey’s got a much better ass, anyway.”
“Your boyfriend must be a masochist.”
“Partner. We’re not tied to those labels,” Kane corrects, still amused despite our dire situation. “Just long-suffering affection, and excellent ass appreciation.”
The tunnel stretches forever, and every crawl forward is a lesson in degradation. Filth clings to my throat, to my thoughts. Rats dart through the water, shrieking as they vanish into cracks. My entire body screams with revulsion but I keep moving. The once-untouchable Ellis heir, gut-deep in sewage and hunted like a feral thing. How poetic.
Something brushes against my calf and I choke on a scream, shoving forward faster.
Finally, Kane taps my ankle. “Up here.”
We surface into a trash-choked alley. The air is acrid, and layered with putrescence and grease, but after the tunnel, it might as well be a breath of freedom. Kane draws his ruby, and a wave of cleansing magic washes over us—heat rushing across skin, stripping away grime, damp, and stench in a heartbeat. My lungs expand for the first time in minutes.
I brace against the wall, watching the crowd. Their clothes are patched, eyes lowered, faces sunken. A week ago, I wouldn’t have looked twice at them. Now I’m desperately trying to mimic their defeated slouch, their exhausted shuffle. Even cleaned up, I am tainted by everything we’ve touched, everything we’ve had to become to survive.
“Ready?” Kane asks.
I nod, my skin still itching with phantom slime. “Let’s get this over with.”
