The storm had caused a ckout to half the city.
Block by block, towers went dark. Traffic blind. Generators were supposed to hold us. Hospitals. Our grids.
They hadn’t.
The garage lights flickered twice as a warning. I didn’t wait for my driver. Every second pressed on my chest like weight. I needed to move. I needed Luca in the same room, not across a line. To see him breathing.
We didn’t cope well in the dark. It was worse when we were blind and separated.
I went straight to the cars.
The first buzz hit in my pocket. Then another. I ignored it. Syndicate chatter never stopped. The city was dark, we were vulnerable.
The third buzz was different. Deep. Wrong. I pulled the phone.
VEHICLE IMPACT — SUBJECT: EMILIA V. ADAMS.
Hard stop. Airbag deploy. Driver heartline lost. GPS ping. Underpass. East pylon.
The alert wasn’t luck. Luca and I had buried a system into every Adams vehicle years ago. If her car so much as clipped a curb, we knew. Impact sensors, heartline monitors, GPS redundanciesyered three deep.
Which meant. Emilia car had been in an ident.
My chest tightened. The cigarette slipped from my mouth.
I was already running. My thumb hit call. Luca picked up before the first ring died.
“You got it?” His voice was controlled, cold. He was close to spiralling. “Where are you?”
“Garage,” I said.
“Take the armored Maserati. Ferrari will aquane.”
“Medics?”
“Grid’s dead. General’s overrun. I’ll dump power from the vault floor. Ny seconds.”
Line went dead. Luca didn’t waste words when he needed silence.
The Maserati’s door mmed shut behind me. One press lit the dash. I reserved too hard the tires caught for a second.
Viin without power looked haunted. ck towers, ck river. The endless lightning across the skyline. Something straight out of a nightmare. Right now, it was the backdrop for our nightmare.
The wheel shook under my hands. Wipers were useless against the rain.
It might be false.
Pings failed sometimes. Sensors tripped. Heartline alerts misfired. Maybe it wasn’t her car. Maybe it was another Adams vehicle, that she wasn’t in.
She was fine. She had to be.
I forced the lie into my head over and over until it felt almost true.
I pictured her safe in bed, annoyed at the outage. I told myself she was rolling her eyes, not bleeding in a wreck.
My grip locked on the wheel. I pressed harder.
Nothing happened. Nothing touched her.
I said it again. Louder in my head.
I thought of Luca. Of how I’d face him if I arrived and it was nothing. He’d tell me it was good I came anyway. He’d remind me this was why we built systems.
But if I arrived and it was her—if it was really her—then the system hadn’t been enough.
The engine roared. The city kept pulling me closer to the river.
South Dockway veered left before the bridge. Everyone knows to avoid the bridge in bad weather. But I didn’t care. The ping told me to. This was the closest way to where she was.
I turned the bend. A car was wrapped around a pole.
For half a second I thought I was early. That she’d be standing there, wet and furious.
Then I saw the te. Adams crest, warped in the grill.
Stomach dropped. This was fucking happening. All the systems in the world don’t prepare you for the one nightmare you built them to stop.
I parked acrossnes. Left the door hanging open.
The driver was over the wheel. Forearm braced like he could still hold himself alive. I didn’t look at his face. I knew his name. I’d say itter at his funeral. When we made sure his family would be set for their lifetime.
Back door was stuck. The handle snapped. I smashed ss with my elbow until blood ran down my wrist. Then I climbed through.
She was there.
Seatbelt locked across her chest. Corbone red. She was leaning forward, blood running down the side of her face. For a full second. I froze.
“Em.”
She opened her eyes, dazed. Thank fucking god.
“Bastion?” Her voice broken. “How are you?—”
“Stop.” My chest already breaking. “Try not to move. Don’t look around. Look at me.”
Her eyes flickered.
“Baby,” I slid an arm under her head. “I’ve got you.” Fingers came away red. I forced myself not to react. I needed her out of this fucking car. I pulled at the belt.
She screamed.
It ripped straight through me. I’d taken a hot knife to the chest better.
“Okay,” I forced out. Voice steady. She needed me to be steady. Calm. “It’s your arm. You’re okay.”
It was a lie.
Her arm was crushed under steel. Wrist swelling. Door folded wrong. Seat rails bent. I took in the scene like I was trained.
She wasn’t okay.
But my voice wasn’t allowed to say that.
“You’re fine.” My hand shook once against her jaw before I locked it still.
She blinked slow. Her focus slipped.
“Angel,” I whispered. The word cut through me. “I’ve got you.”
Rain hammered the roof. She can’t leave us like this. A car ident. A fucking wet road and a pole taking the love of our life. No. It wasn’t happening.
She looked at me. “You shouldn’t be here…how are you?—”
“I should.” I cut her off. My voice cracked again. “I’m here. You’re fine.”
Another lie. But she needed it. And I needed it to be true.
Her breath hitched. I tore off my jacket and pulled it over her. It was soaked from the rain. Pretend warmth. Pretend control.
Her lips parted. “Bastion…”
“Don’t talk.” My voice broke. “Look at me. Don’t close your eyes.”
She tried to smile. The smallest thing. My ribs split around it. Only Emilia would try tofort someone else, when she was bleeding.
My phone buzzed once, I answered it without looking. We both were shattering. He could feel it. I could feel it. One soul, two bodies.
“Bastion.Talk.”
“Head cut. Arm pinned. Wrist swelling. Driver gone. Second guard shallow. I need cutters.”
“Copy.” His voice split—half to me, half to his room. “Sweep in ny. I’ll bring the corridor up. Two minutes of light. That’s all I can steal.”
“Steal more.”
“I’ll take the vault.”
The line stayed open. Because he needed it. The storm thought it owned the night. Then the lights hit.
Two blocks of underpass casted light. Just as the Medics rushed in.
“Do not touch her,” I snapped. “Not until the arm’s stable. Pull wrong and I’ll kill you.”
“Mr. Crow.” Medic’s voice calm. “Permission to enter?”
“You have it.”
Cutters went through the belt. I needed to take her pain. I hated feeling this helpless.
“Pulse weak but present,” she said. “Headceration. Probable concussion. Arm trapped. We cut the door.”
“Do it.”
I bent over her. Covered her head with my body. My back caught the spray, off ss as they cut the door. My hand stayed on her pulse.
“Look at me,” I whispered. “You’re not moving. I’ve got you.”
Her breath caught. Her eyes dragged back to mine.
“On my count,” medic said. “Seat up. Roll as one. Mr. Crow—you’re backboard.”
“I’m not letting go.”
“Good.”
“One… two… three.”
Her body lifted with mine. Her arm tore free. She screamed.
It gutted me.
It would have ripped through Luca at the same time. We took the pain. We protected her. Tonight, we had failed.
I held her throat lightly, thumb on her pulse. “You’re okay.” Another lie. My chest didn’t believe it.
Straps locked over her. Hands pressed her head. She was out of the car, and ced on the stretcher.
The van waiting, doors wide. I climbed in with her. No one stopped me.
“Em.” I couldn’t stop. “Eyes open. Look at me.”
She was tired. Every time she closed her eyes, it was half a second too long.
“Breathe. In. Out. Again.”
She obeyed, weak. Still here.<fn5244> Find the newest release on FιndNovel</fn5244>
Medics cut words around us—concussion, swelling, stabilize, Sovereign. I didn’t hear them. My hand stayed on her shoulder. Warmth still there.
“You’ll be fine,” I told her, again. For myself. For Luca who was forced to listen on a phone.
Dynasty hospitals had procedures. They cared about marble floors, gold trimmed rooms.
The Sovereign’s treated syndicates, soldiers. No questions. Hospitals we owned and funded. Care that rivalled the Dynasties owned hospitals. Luxury given to those who gave us loyalty. Their families given care they wouldn’t receive otherwise.
The van ride was too long, and a blur in one. When we arrived the Sovereign’s back corridors already open. Staff in scrubs waiting at the back doors.
I walked with her until I hit the invisible line. I couldn’t go further.
“Em,” I said, raw. “I’ll be here when you wake. If you don’t, I’ll tear it down.”
Her eyes opened once more. Met mine.
Please baby, don’t make us follow you and drag you back from God himself.
Then I let her go, and the door closed.