No answer.
The hallway leading to her room sat quiet, the door sealed at the far end. Perhaps a patient had rushed in, desperate, pulling her away mid-preparation. That was the only explanation that made sense.
Run.
“Gem?” I called again, slipping the note into my pocket, moving faster now. “We have a problem.” My fingers brushed the doorknob, warm.
The curse heard the floorboards creaking behind me too late.
I spun, too damn slow.
The dagger kissed my ribs, skimming close enough to burn, missing my heart by a sliver. Instinct roared, and my blade was already buried in flesh.
The guard screamed, reeling back against the wall, clutching at his face as blood poured hot between his fingers.
Darkness flexed inside me, its cage rattling, then splitting, iron bars tearing open with a shriek inside my mind.
And it was free.
I struck repeatedly, the dagger driving deep, warmth spurting across my knuckles. My pupils blew wide and wild as his life drained.
I stumbled back, chest heaving, staring as the body crumpled to the floor. And then we inhaled, together, the Viper and me.
Fresh pain stung where the blade had grazed me, sending a rush of heat across my ribs. I raised my weapon all the same, red dripping slow and steady from its edge, painting my grip slick.
Movement shuffled behind Gemma’s door and without hesitation, I yanked the door wide—
And staggered.
Gem was bound on her bed, wrists knotted, mouth gagged, head thrashing side to side in a violent warning, right as cold steel pressed into the crook of my neck, the blade biting just enough.
“Drop it.” The voice was unfamiliar, though the uniform was not. The crest, the emblem, I knew who they belonged to.
“One move,” the guard said, “and I cut you open. Let you spill all over this floor and her after. Understood?”
My pulse battered against the edge of the blade as options raced, ruthless and slim. If I let the thing inside me loose, he’d likely slice my artery before it could take hold.
And I’m really not gunning to see how well a curse could mend that type of wound. And Gemma...while I was healing, he would kill her.
His teeth gritted. “Drop. It. Now.”
The dagger slipped from my hand, clanging loud against the floor. For the first time, I felt it—the terror of one wrong choice ending everything.
Gem’s eyes caught mine, terrified, but glancing subtly to the floor. He hadn’t gone for my dagger.
Her gaze flicked to it again, wary.Hide it,her eyes begged.
“Who are you?” I asked, sharp enough to cover the scrape of steel sliding beneath her bed.
Gemma shifted, pushing it deeper out of sight.
The guard yanked one of my hands behind my back, rough iron scraping my skin. “Other hand,” he ordered.
I snickered. “Say please.”
Gemma flinched, her shoulders slumping, evaporating any flash of humor. This wasn’t a bluff, this was real. They knew.
But if they knew what I’d done, why take her too?
