Nadine swore under her breath. “That was the distraction. We need to move. Fast.”
On the other side of the open bay doors ahead, an orange glow pulsed against the metal walls. By the time they passed through the opening, an abandoned scaffolding stack and a derelict tram car were engulfed in flames, tongues of fire licking high into the rafters. The heat slapped her from across the enclosure.
Workers scattered in all directions, shouting for extinguishers, hauling hoses from wall units. The fire suppression system hadn’t triggered yet, but the ceiling shutters were already starting to groan in warning.
A sector lockdown was seconds away.
Nadine’s head whipped toward the blaze, scanning.
“Come on, Lysa,” Christian mumbled. “Move.”
Gemma followed his gaze just in time to spot a slim, blond-haired girl in a grease-stained scarf vanish into the smoke, slipping through the confusion before the shutters sealed her in. Christian visibly relaxed next to Gemma.
Nadine didn’t wait another beat. “Run!”
They plunged into the chaos, ducking between panicked workers and half-toppled crates. The heat from the flames pressed against Gemma’s skin, the air thick with the sting of burnt metal. Smoke blurred her vision; shouting drowned out her thoughts.
“Left!” Nadine barked. “Before the shutters drop!”
The turn shoved them into a street, and Gemma’s chest clenched. A knot of civilians clogged the midpoint, drawn by the noise and the glow of fire. Nadine’s head whipped back and forth.
There were so many people awake, so many eyes. What were they all doing here?
“Let’s go,” Nadine mumbled.
A man’s gaze lingered on Gemma’s sister a beat too long, his brow creasing. Before recognition could set in, Hawk shouldered past, hard enough to make the man stumble. “Watch your step,” Hawk scolded without breaking stride.
Together, they wove through the onlookers—until they spotted several Systems soldiers headed in their direction. Gemma’s pulse spiked as Nadine ducked into an alley and picked up speed, leading them through a maze of twists and turns.
Nausea churned in Gemma’s stomach. She’d rarely seen actual Systems soldiers patrolling the streets of Perileos before, and they were here forher. The people of Perileos had to be terrified by their presence, and the risk her friends were taking . . . It was just a matter of time before they were caught, and then they’d all be sent to prison for the rest of their lives.
She shouldn’t have let them free her from Zion. She should’ve followed through with letting Christian go. She should have—
Christian’s hands found her shoulders. He spun her into a shadow cast by a taller flat. “Hey, look at me,” he said.
When she did, his face was bathed in soft violet.Oh no. She looked down at her hands, where threads of violet light leaked from her palms and fingertips. Her breath hitched when she at last felt the hum of power in her chest.
She tried to push Christian away from her. “Stay back,” she spoke barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Her eyes filled with tears.
But he just squeezed her shoulders then took her face in his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. Just keep looking at me. Take some slow breaths. You’re all right. You’re safe. You’re in control. Say it.”
Her voice shook as she closed her eyes and spoke between deep breaths. “I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m in control.” A traitorous tear broke free.
Christian wiped it away with his thumb. “Again.”
As she did, the words cut through the fear. The buzz behind her sternum eased.
She opened her eyes, her breaths growing easier as the light in her tattoo and under her skin dimmed until it was just a faint shimmer.
When she nodded, Christian pulled her into a gentle embrace. “I got you, Gem. You’re not alone.”
A massive lump formed in her throat. She stepped out of his hug before her emotions took over again.
Behind them, her friends—and sister—watched in concern, shock, and awe. But before Gemma could say anything, Imara broke the tension.
“You’re like a glow stick. Can we use you as a torchlight?”
Gemma couldn’t stop the smile that rose slowly on her face. “Not yet. But maybe someday.”
