The safehouse felt cramped and heavy with silence. Less than twenty-four hours since the last time they said a word to each other, but it felt like an eternity. The air between them had grown thick as smoke. Velira Nocturne sat motionless in the corner chair, pale eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the cracked window. She could probably sit like that for days—decades, even. Time meant something different when you had forever to burn.

  Kass “Riot” Vex paced. She limped a little, her damaged leg wrapped in DermalNet mesh treating the burn from her faulty shock boot. Her heels struck concrete in an irregular rhythm that matched her restless energy, echoing off bare walls, filling the space with noise that wasn’t conversation.

  She’d tried sitting. Tried tinkering with gear that didn’t need fixing. Tried cleaning Drujment for the third time that day. But the silence pressed against her skull like a migraine, and Velira’s stillness felt like an accusation wrapped in shadow.

  Finally, Kass stopped mid-stride and turned toward her unkillable partner.

  “We need to talk.” Velira’s intense gaze met hers, and held her for a moment. “About Red Memory.”

  Something flickered in her eyes—relief, maybe, at having something concrete to focus on.

  “Yes,” Velira said simply.

  Kass lit a cigarette, using the familiar ritual to organize her thoughts. “The silver chains. That’s what’s been bothering me.”

  A short nod from Velira.

  “Silver can wound you, can hurt like hell—but it won’t kill you. Not permanently.” Kass took a drag, exhaling slowly. “So why silver chains? Why not just put a silver bullet in your head and call it done?”

  Velira’s head tilted slightly. “They wanted me alive.”

  “Not just alive. Restrained. Undamaged.” Kass resumed pacing, but slower now, her mind shifting into tactical mode. “That’s not revenge for Nex Harrow or Red Druj. That’s something else entirely.”

  The names hung in the air between them. Two high-ranking Red Memory synths, both dead by their hands.

  “Walk me through it,” Kass said. “Harrow first. Was that personal, or were we already on their radar?”

  Velira considered this. “Harrow was trafficking children. We interfered, he died. At the time, it seemed like an unfortunate side effect of his personal interests.”

  “But now?”

  “Now it feels like the beginning of something larger.” Velira’s fingers drummed once against the chair’s armrest—a rare display of nervous energy. “Red Druj came next. We walked into his operation by accident. He wasn’t there for us, he was recruiting the Iron Vipers. He didn’t expect us.”

  Kass nodded. “He had silver-tipped bullets, but he was their top synth killer. That’s standard equipment for him.”

  “Aegis Fold. That was a trap, it was elaborate. Expensive. Designed to capture rather than kill. The false bait was specifically targeted for us.” Velira stood, moving to the window. Her reflection was barely visible in the cracked glass. “They knew we’d come for children, from Nex. They’re escalating, but not toward elimination. Toward acquisition.”

  “Acquisition. Like you’re a resource they want to control.”

  “Control how?”

  “Synths aren’t born, they’re genetically engineered. Some neuro-lab rat scientists figured out how to make them back before everything went to shit.” Kass took another drag of her cigarette. “But when the old world burned, all that research went up in smoke with it. Every synth walking around today? They’re leftovers from decades ago. Nobody knows how to make new ones.”

  “So they can’t create more?”

  “Not with current technology and understanding. But if they had a template—something to reverse-engineer…” Kass felt the pieces fitting together, forming a picture she very much didn’t like. “They think you’re some kind of prototype. A more advanced synthetic they could learn from.”

  “It would explain their interest in keeping me intact.” Velira turned from the window. “The question is how they came to that conclusion.”

  The black stained bandages on Velira’s shoulder caught Kass’s eye and it clicked.

  “Blood samples. Has to be. Somewhere along the line, they got samples of your blood and analyzed it. Found something that made them think you were worth studying.”

  “When? I don’t remember anyone drawing blood, and it’s not like I need medical attention.”

  “Doesn’t have to be recent. Could be from any fight where you bled.” Kass stopped, struck by a thought. “When was the last time you bled before yesterday?”

  Velira was quiet for a moment. “I hadn’t bled in over a century, until you shot me.” Her green eyes met Kass’s. “Then who knows how many times since we started working together.”

  “Shit.” The implications hitting Kass. “So Red Memory’s had a while to collect samples, analyze them, figure out exactly what you are.”

  “We need intelligence,” Velira said finally. “Real intelligence, not the manufactured bait they fed us.”

  “They compromised Skiv’s source. If they can feed us false intel once…”

  “They can do it again.” Velira nodded. “Which means we can’t trust anything that comes through our normal channels.”

  Kass pulled out her communicator, thumb hovering over Skiv’s contact. “So we go direct. No intermediaries, no regular sources. Just us and whatever Skiv can dig up through his data feeds. No informants.”

  “And if Red Memory has compromised those too?”

  “Then we go old school. Street level investigation, following physical leads instead of digital ones.”

  She sent a brief message: Need to meet. Your office, one hour. Come alone.

  The response came back almost immediately: Confirmed. I’m already here. Watch your backs.

  Kass pocketed the communicator, then hesitated. The weight of everything unsaid pressed against her—the argument, the way they’d been dancing around each other.

  She looked up to find Velira watching her, patient and knowing.

  “Look, V…” Kass started, the words scraping against her throat like broken glass. “I’m—”

  “It’s okay.” Velira’s voice was soft, cutting through Kass’s struggle with gentle precision. “I know.”

  Kass felt a release. Not everything—the walls were still there, the careful distance they’d been maintaining. But enough. Enough to breathe properly for the first time in what felt like forever.

  Velira was already moving toward the door, her earlier stillness replaced by purpose.

  They left the safehouse together, stepping into the Rust Veil’s perpetual haze. Around them, the Undercity’s night shift was beginning—the familiar dance of predators and prey that defined life in the shadows.

  But tonight, Kass couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t the hunters anymore. Tonight, they were walking into the territory of something that had been studying them, planning for them, preparing to cage them. Or, more accurately, one of them.

  The thought should have been terrifying. Instead, it just made her angry.

  And in the Undercity, anger was often the difference maker.

  ———

  The door to Skiv’s office was slightly open—never a good sign. Kass exchanged a glance with Velira before sliding it the rest of the way open with her boot, keeping her hand near Drujment’s grip.

  Inside, Skiv sat hunched over his main terminal, data streams scrolling past as he systematically wiped encrypted drives. The soft hum of degaussing equipment filled the air, casting an eerie blue glow across walls that looked strangely bare. Half his equipment was gone, cables coiled neatly beside empty mounting brackets. A duffel bag sat by the back exit, zipped and ready.

  “Going somewhere, Skiv?” Kass’s voice carried an edge.

  He looked up from the screen, his cybernetic whirring. “Right on time to watch me burn my life’s work.” He tossed a data card into a magnetic scrambler. “You two really know how to complicate things.”

  Velira stepped into the room, scanning the partially dismantled office. “You’re relocating.”

  “Relocating, moving, fleeing, strategically repositioning—call it whatever.” Skiv straightened. “Point is, this place is blown. Has been since before the Aegis Fold job.”

  He wrapped cables in quick, purposeful movements. “Smart play would’ve been to pass it along, take my cut, keep my head down. But no—I had to play hero. Tracked down Jeks, triple-checked his story, handed you everything on a platinum datacore.”

  His voice carried something, but not regret. He almost sounded wistful. “Funny thing about fucking with Red Memory’s operations—they notice. Real quick. Turns out they don’t appreciate it when their carefully laid traps get dismantled by some asshole.”

  “So helping us cost your operation,” Velira said quietly.

  “Yeah.” Skiv’s cybernetic eye glinted. “And I’d do it again. But that doesn’t mean I want to stick around for the consequences.”

  Skiv’s tone was conversational, but his movements betrayed urgency. “Three of my regulars went dark. The rest are asking questions they never gave a shit about before—where I sleep, who I work with…questions about you two.”

  Kass glanced at Velira, then back to Skiv. “So you’re running.”

  “Running?” Skiv paused in his packing and looked up. “Kid, I’ve been running from something or someone my entire life. This isn’t running.” He gestured around the stripped office. “This is adapting.”

  “To what?”

  “To the fact that I apparently gave a shit at the worst possible time.” His laugh was short. “Years of playing the game, minding my own business. Then you two show up with your righteous cause and your ‘save the children’ bullshit, and suddenly I’m the dumbass asking follow-up questions instead of just passing along whatever crosses my desk.”

  Skiv let the silence linger a moment, feeding the last of his data cards to the scrambler.

  Then, quietly, “You know what I used to tell myself? That the Undercity was broken beyond fixing, that the only way to survive was to profit from the chaos and keep off the radar.”

  He watched tiny sparks fly as the scrambler did its work.

  “Then you two started actually fixing things. Taking down traffickers, grunts, corporate vultures, all those picking apart what’s left of decent people. Made me realize I was tired of being part of the problem.”

  He turned, “and now…guess I’m stupid enough to try to be part of the solution.”

  Kass felt the shift. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Plan is to disappear for a while, let Red Memory think they’ve scared me off while I set up somewhere new and get back to work.” His grin was sharp, self-deprecating. “Besides, someone has to keep track of Red Memory’s operations. Might as well be the guy who’s already pissed them off.”

  Velira moved to the door, checking the street outside. “They’ll be watching for you.”

  “Let them watch. I’ve been playing this game a long time.” Skiv shouldered his bag, moving toward the back exit. His expression grew serious. “But before I vanish, you need to know—Jeks reached out to me. He’s scared.”

  Kass straightened. “What happened?”

  “Red Memory’s been asking questions. About the UV array intel he gave us for the Aegis Fold facility.” Skiv’s voice dropped. “Kid’s low-level street muscle, but he was stationed at that facility before. He knew about the backup systems, the light positioning. That kind of detailed knowledge doesn’t come from nowhere.”

  Velira’s expression darkened. “They’re connecting the dots.”

  “Exactly. And when they do…” Skiv hesitated, genuine concern creasing his weathered features. “Jeks has got his little brother to think about. He can’t just disappear into the underground like the rest of us.”

  Kass felt a pit, cold and familiar, settle in her stomach. “He needs our help.”

  “He’s supposed to meet me at the old Metro junction in Sector 7…” Skiv looked between them both. “Kid’s got no resources, no connections outside the Vipers. And if he runs, Red Memory will track him down within days. They’ll make an example of him—and his brother.”

  The air was heavy with implications. Kass could feel Velira watching her, reading her face.

  “He helped us,” Velira said quietly.

  “He’s a kid with a kid to protect,” Kass’s voice had an edge. “And it’s our fault he’s burned.”

  Another life in her hands, more people who would die because of choices she’d made.

  “Where exactly in Sector 7?”

  Skiv rattled off coordinates. “Kid’s waiting, but he won’t wait long. Red Memory finds him first…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

  “We know,” Velira said quietly.

  Skiv nodded once, then stepped out of the door. “See you on the other side, assuming we all make it that far.”

  Then he was gone, swallowed by the neon shadows of the Rust Veil, leaving Kass and Velira alone in the empty office. Around them, the smell of burned electrodes lingered like incense for the dead.

  Kass stared at the door, jaw tight. She could feel Velira watching her, waiting.

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Kass said finally.

  “Do you?”

  “That we have to help him. That it’s the right thing to do.” She turned, meeting Velira’s gaze. “That we can’t just let a kid hang because we needed his intel.”

  “Is that what I was going to say?”

  “Wasn’t it?”

  Velira was quiet for a moment. “You already decided to help him, the moment he told us about the array.”

  “I can’t keep everyone safe, V. Every time I try, people end up dead.”

  “Not everyone. Not yet.”

  The words hung between them, gentle but implacable. Kass paused, looking around the stripped office, thinking about choices and consequences.

  “Fuck. Sector 7 it is.”

  ———

  The old Metro junction was a graveyard of broken dreams and rotting infrastructure. Abandoned train cars sat on corroded tracks like the bones of some massive urban beast, their windows long since shattered by time and vandalism. Emergency lighting cast everything in intermittent pools of sickly yellow.

  Kass moved through the shadows between the derelict cars, Velira a silent presence at her side. The air smelled of rust, stagnant water, and despair.

  They found Jeks huddled in the doorway of an overturned cargo car, his Iron Viper jacket pulled tight against the underground chill. Beside him sat a boy, only a few years younger.

  Kael.

  He was older than when Kass first saw him, in Nex Harrow’s cage. But the eyes were the same, dark and haunted. She remembered dragging him out, too light for a twelve year old boy.

  Kael looked up as they approached, recognition spreading across his face. Even now, a few years later, he still carried that hollow-eyed look that came from seeing too much too young.

  “Hey, kid.”

  Jeks scrambled to his feet, pulling his brother protectively behind him. Then he recognized them. “Kass. Thank fuck you came.” His voice was strained, exhausted. “I didn’t know who else to call. Skiv is the only one I know not connected to the Vipers. And I just met him.”

  “What’s the situation?” Velira asked, eyes scanning the shadows around them.

  “They know. And if they don’t, they’ll know soon enough” Jeks’s hand shook as he lit a cigarette. “Red Memory. They’ve been asking questions about the UV array—who knew about the backup systems, who had access to the facility schematics. My name is bound to come up.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I was there when they were setting up.” He took a shaky drag. “And Red Memory is pretty good at getting the answers they want.”

  Jeks glanced down at his brother, who was staring at Kass.

  “When they find me, they’ll ask questions…and when they’re done with me, they’ll start on anyone I care about. Anyone who might know something.” He put a hand on Kael’s shoulder. “I can’t let them touch him.”

  Kael finally spoke, his voice quiet but steady, though he stayed close to his brother’s side.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “You’re the ones who saved me…from that nightmare.”

  Kass looked at him—he was almost her height now, still growing into the lanky frame of a teenager. But he kept one hand on Jeks’s arm, like an anchor. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I remember.”

  “Are you going to help us disappear?”

  Kass looked up at Jeks, seeing the desperate hope he was trying to hide.

  “Where would you go? You got contacts outside the lower sectors?”

  “No. I got maybe fifty credits to my name. That’s not enough for us to start over somewhere new.”

  “And if you run,” Velira said, “Red Memory will track you down within days.”

  “Yeah.” Jeks dropped his cigarette, crushing it under his boot. “So what do I do? Stay and let them torture information out of me? Run and get caught anyway?” His voice cracked. “I’m out of options.”

  Kass stood, her mind already running through possibilities. Credits, safe houses, transport options, new identities. It would take resources they didn’t have and expose them to risks they couldn’t afford.

  It was exactly the kind of problem she’d spent years learning not to take on.

  “Kass,” Velira said quietly.

  “I know.” Kass looked at Kael, who was still watching her with those too-old eyes. “How much time before Red Memory comes knocking?”

  “My guess? Soon. Especially because I ghosted.”

  “Right.” Kass pulled out a cigarette, thinking. “One of our safe houses? Can’t use Skiv’s network, they’re watching him.”

  “So where—”

  “Shit,” Kass muttered. “Skiv’s sister. Lita.”

  Velira’s eyes narrowed. “The one from the market stall?”

  “Yeah. If Red Memory’s tracking Skiv, they’ll go after his known associates. Family first.” Kass pulled out her communicator. “She needs to disappear too.”

  Jeks looked confused. “Who’s Lita?”

  “Someone else who’s gonna be in Red Memory’s crosshairs because of us.” Kass typed a quick message. “Another vulnerable thread from our quickly fraying knot.”

  The response came quick: Already warned her. She’s packing.

  “Good. At least Skiv’s on it.” Kass looked at the brothers. “You two need somewhere to hole up. Somewhere Red Memory won’t think to look.”

  “I don’t have anyone,” Jeks said quietly. “It’s just me and Kael. Has been since…”

  Since their parents died in the riots. Kass didn’t need him to finish. She knew.

  “There’s an old maintenance station in Sector 8. We’ve used it before,” Velira suggested. “Abandoned, but the locks still work. Infrastructure’s intact.”

  Kass nodded. “Could work. Nobody goes there unless they have to.”

  She pulled out a keycard. “There’s an emergency stash there. In an old crate under the first aid box. Should be enough supplies to last a week. Maybe two if you’re careful.”

  Jeks took the card. “What about Skiv’s sister?”

  “We’ll handle her.” Kass met his eyes. “You just focus on keeping your brother safe. Stay inside, stay quiet, don’t contact anyone from your old life.”

  “For how long?”

  “Few days. If we don’t find you after a week...” Kass exchanged a glance with Velira. “You’ll have to disappear on your own. But right now, just focus on staying alive.”

  She handed him a small comm unit. “Emergency only. If Red Memory shows up, you call. We’ll handle it.”

  “And if you can’t handle it?”

  “They can.” Kael said with confidence.

  Jeks pocketed the comm, then grabbed his brother’s hand. “Come on, Kael.”

  They started to leave, but Kael looked back. “Thank you. Again.”

  “Don’t thank us yet, kid. This ain’t over.”

  The brothers disappeared into the tunnels, leaving Kass and Velira alone.

  “That’s four now,” Velira observed. “Skiv, Jeks, Kael, and Lita. All in hiding because of their connection to us.”

  “Fuck, I miss the days we could just stomp some bad guys and not worry about the consequences,” Kass muttered, relighting her cigarette. Damn thing kept going out. “When did everything get so complicated?”

  “When we started caring about collateral damage.”

  “Yeah, well, that was a stupid decision.” But there was no heat in it. “Now we’ve got people scattered across the Undercity, all waiting for Red Memory to find them.”

  “We need to move fast,” Velira said. “The longer they hide, the more likely they’ll be discovered.”

  “Which means we need intel. Real intel this time.” Kass exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Figure out what Red Memory really wants with you, then hit them before they hit us.”

  “Where do we start?”

  “Marcus might know something. He’s got contacts everywhere. At least he used to…” Kass started walking. “Been a while since I paid him a visit.”

  “The tech dealer?”

  “Among other things. He deals in information too, when the price is right. And he owes me.”

  They moved through the shadows, two predators working to not be prey. Behind them, four people caught in the vortex, hiding in the dark, hoping their protectors could deliver on impossible promises.

  “You know what pisses me off?” Kass said as they walked. “We’ve been reactive this whole time. Dancing to Red Memory’s tune, playing a game we didn’t even know we were in.”

  “Perhaps it’s time we reminded Red Memory why they should fear what hunts in the dark,” Velira said, her smile sharp.

  “Now you’re talking my language.”??

  ———

  Marcus’s garage sat in the shadow of a collapsed overpass, its neon sign flickering between “TECH REPAIR” and static. The air smelled of ozone and burnt circuitry, familiar scents that brought back memories—tinkering with someone who shared her excitement for gadgets, figuring out how they work, how to get them to do what you wanted.

  “You sure about this?” Velira asked, scanning the surrounding darkness.

  Kass lit a cigarette, hands steady despite the knot in her stomach. “No. But we’re low on options.”

  They approached the reinforced door, Kass’s finger hovering over the comm button. The response came after a long pause.

  “Yeah?”

  “Marcus, it’s…” She took a deep breath “Riot.”

  Another pause. Then the locks disengaged with a series of heavy clicks. Marcus stood in the doorway—older, grayer, the kind of tired that went bone deep. He looked at her for a moment, then Velira. He stepped aside.

  “Come in.”

  The garage was cramped and cluttered, workbenches covered in half-assembled electronics and jury-rigged tech. Marcus moved to his coffee pot, poured himself a cup without offering them any.

  “Been a while,” he said finally.

  “Yeah, it has.” Kass studied his face. Marcus had always been cautious, but this felt different. Distant. “We need information, Marcus.”

  “Information costs credits these days.”

  “Not from you it doesn’t.”

  Marcus set down his coffee cup, turned to face her. “That was a long time ago, Riot. Things change.”

  “Wasn’t that long ago.”

  Velira shifted slightly, a subtle movement that Marcus caught. He glanced at her, then back to Kass.

  “What kind of information?”

  “Red Memory. Their operations, their interests. Anything you might have heard.”

  Marcus was quiet for a long moment, absently wiping his hands on an already-dirty rag. “Red Memory’s not the kind of organization you ask questions about. Not if you want to keep breathing.”

  “I’m not asking you to infiltrate them,” Kass said. “Just tell me what you’ve heard on the street.”

  “And if I haven’t heard anything?”

  “I know you have.”

  The silence stretched between them. Marcus looked at his coffee, at his workbench, anywhere but at Kass.

  “You owe me,” she said quietly.

  Marcus closed his eyes, shoulders sagging. He opened them again.

  “Fine. I’ll ask around. See what I can dig up.” He moved to his workbench, began organizing tools that didn’t need organizing. “Give me a day or two. I’ll be in touch.”

  Kass’s cigarette was half lit. “Appreciate it, Marcus.”

  “Yeah. Just… be careful. Red Memory’s not like the street gangs you used to tangle with. They’ve got reach. Resources.”

  “Noted.”

  They left him standing in his garage, surrounded by the detritus of a life spent fixing other people’s broken things.

  Velira, silent, noticed the tension in Kass’s shoulders.

  ———

  The call came eighteen hours later.

  “Got something,” Marcus’s voice crackled through the comm. “Can’t talk over channels. Meet me at the old spot, where you used to chase nano-dogs. Twenty minutes.”

  The line went dead before Kass could respond.

  “Could be a trap,” Velira said.

  “Could be.” Kass stubbed out her cigarette. “But it’s the only lead we’ve got.”

  “What are nano-dogs?”

  ———

  Nano-dogs, furry little things with bushy tails. Once a pet fad for kids, but they multiplied fast and went feral. Kass used to chase them down by the tracks.

  The old rail depot squatted at the edge of the industrial district like a graveyard of rust and old memories. Abandoned train cars sat on warped tracks, their sides tagged with graffiti that had been painted over so many times it looked like scar tissue. Faint lighting cast everything in pools of burnt orange.

  They found Marcus standing beside a freight car, hands deep in his jacket pockets. He looked smaller in the harsh light, older.

  “Marcus,” Kass called out as they approached.

  He turned, and something in his expression made her steps falter. Not fear. Something worse.

  Resignation.

  “Hey, Riot,” he said quietly.

  “What’ve you got for us?” Kass asked, scanning the shadows between the train cars. Something felt wrong.

  Marcus looked at her for a long moment, then at Velira. His shoulders sagged.

  “Sorry.”

  A figure stepped out from behind the freight car—tall, pale, moving with the fluid ease of a synthetic vampire.

  “Thank you, Marcus. You’re no longer needed.” With synth speed he raised a pistol and shot Marcus, point blank, in the back.

  “No!” Kass screamed, but it was too late.

  Velira was already moving, charging forward, stilettos in hand.

  The synth brought his pistol up and fired.

  Velira dodged two shots, but the third hit her in the chest.

  She staggered, black blood splattered. Then she collapsed.

  “Velira!”

  Kass’s world tilted. In mere seconds—Marcus dead—Velira bleeding. Black veins spreading from the bullet wound like cracks in ice.

  Red flooded her vision.

  She drew Drujment and blasted away, but the synth was already moving, inhuman speed carrying him behind cover. The bullets tore through rusted metal. They weren’t silver, that mag was clipped to her belt.

  Four more operatives emerged from concealment—humans with military-grade weapons and armor. Automatic fire chewed chunks out of the ferrocrete as Kass dove behind a pillar.

  “The Wraith has been neutralized,” the synth’s voice echoed through the depot. “Extraction team, move to position.”

  Kass vaulted the barrier, charging straight into the kill zone. A bullet grazed her shoulder, another tugged at her jacket. She put one round into the first operative’s helmet, spun, center mass two shots into the second, one more head shot then emptied the rest of her magazine into the last. Precision that even Velira would envy. Their reinforced body armor no match for Drujment’s verdict.

  The synth emerged from cover, firing.

  Dodge, quick reload, silver tipped mag, muscle memory taking over. Drujment roared four times, rounds punching through bone and muscle. The synth dropped, black blood pooling beneath him.

  Silence fell over the depot.

  Kass ran to Velira, who was slumped against a rusted wheel assembly. Black veins slowly spreading, delicate traceries from the hole in her chest.

  “Hey,” Kass said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Stay with me.”

  Velira’s green eyes found hers, dimmed but still aware. Eyes that screamed pain.

  Kass’s mind raced. Marcus was dead. The operatives were dead. But they’d called for extraction. More would be coming.

  Velira’s wound was like nothing she’d seen. This wasn’t silver tipped. It was something else. Something new.

  “They wouldn’t just let you die,” she said, more to herself than to Velira. “Not without studying you. They’ve got to have something to fix this.”

  She threw Velira over her shoulder like a sack of ferrocrete. The vampire seemed heavier than she should for such a small woman, but also lighter than an unstoppable being.

  She knew this area, had played there as a child, and knew its secrets. A small compartment door that opened to a maintenance module. She still knew the keycode.

  Inside the hatch, she pulled out her tactical flashlight and tried to assess the situation.

  It was bad.

  Velira struggled to breathe, and despite not needing to breathe to survive, that didn’t bode well.

  “They have to have something close. Some way to counteract whatever the fuck they did to you.”

  Velira looked at Kass, pain searing behind her eyes, but not fear. Not doubt.

  “I’ll be back,” Kass said, ignoring the blood seeping through her own jacket. “Don’t fucking die on me.” Not you.

  Velira managed a weak nod, her eyes already starting to flutter closed.

  ———

  Kass stepped out of the maintenance hatch, sealing it behind her. The pain in her shoulder was there, but distant—filed away with everything else that didn’t matter right now. Marcus was dead. Velira was dying. The math was simple.

  She pulled out her communicator.

  “Skiv.”

  “Kass? What’s—”

  “Red Memory. Any assets. Sector 9. Find them. Now.”

  A pause. Then Skiv’s voice, all business. “Scanning. Give me thirty seconds.”

  Kass checked her gear while she waited. One mag of armor-piercers left, eleven silver-tip bullets in Drujment, one in the chamber. Combat knife. Four flash-bangs, four magnetic charges, two frags, and her mini disruptor. Tactical flashlight clipped to her belt.

  “Got it,” Skiv’s voice crackled through. “Armored convoy, three vehicles. Two escort units, one mobile medical lab. Moving south on Industrial Boulevard, maybe six blocks from your position.”

  “Speed?”

  “Slow. Twenty, twenty-five klicks. They’re not running.”

  Because they thought they’d won. Thought Velira was secured and Kass was dead.

  “Route?”

  “Straight shot down Industrial, then they’ll hit the underpass toward the old rail depot.”

  Kass’s mind mapped the terrain. The underpass was a bottleneck—narrow, with concrete barriers on both sides. Perfect kill zone if you had the high ground. And it was a straight shot back to Velira.

  “Copy. Going dark.”

  She pocketed the communicator and started moving, swapping mags, and keeping to the shadows. Her shoulder throbbed with each step, but pain was just information. Information she could ignore.

  The underpass came into view—a tunnel carved through a hill, with maintenance walkways running along both sides above the roadway. Kass took the stairs three at a time, positioning herself at the tunnel’s midpoint.

  The convoy was close. Engines rumbling. Tires grinding ferrocrete.

  First vehicle appeared—armored escort, two operators visible through reinforced glass. Then the medical unit—larger, bulkier, bristling with armor and life support systems. Third vehicle, identical to the first.

  Kass pulled two magnetic charges, set them for remote detonation. Waited. Then dropped them onto the lead vehicle’s roof. Then detonated them.

  The explosion lifted the front of the escort, slamming it into the tunnel wall. The med vehicle swerved, trying to avoid the wreckage.

  Kass dropped a flash-bang in front of the last vehicle.

  White light. Concussion. Screaming brakes.

  She was already moving—dropping from the walkway onto the roof of the medical vehicle as the second escort slammed into the wall. Metal screamed. Sparks flew.

  Two operators scrambled from the wreckage.

  Kass put them down—clean, precise shots. One round each. Center mass. Armor-piercers punching through their vests.

  The medical vehicle’s driver tried to reverse, but there was nowhere to go. The escort vehicle blocked his escape.

  Kass slapped a charge on the driver’s door and rolled off.

  The shaped charge blew the door clean off. The driver slumped forward—dead or unconscious from the blast.

  Inside the medical bay, a technician in scrubs threw his hands up. “Don’t shoot! I’m just—”

  “Get out.”

  He bolted, sprinting for the tunnel entrance.

  Kass stepped inside. Scanned fast.

  Blood filtration rig. IV lines. Monitoring gear.

  And a sealed case—vials of clear liquid marked with biohazard symbols.

  A medical bed. Prepped. Silver restraints.

  Made for a vampire.

  Her vampire.

  She planted her last charge on the wreckage, then dragged the driver’s body out of the cab. Slid into the seat. Fired up the engine.

  The medical vehicle tore away, blasting through the wreckage of the first escort vehicle, as fast as it would go.

  Behind her, the tunnel went up in smoke and fire.

  She didn’t look back.

  Velira was waiting.

  Everything else was just details.

  ———

  The medical vehicle sat hidden beneath a collapsed terminal, its emergency lights dark. The blood filtration system hummed quietly—bad blood in, clean blood out, the process as simple as it was miraculous. Velira lay on the medical bed, pallid skin slowly regaining its normal pale hue as the poison was filtered from her system. The black veins had faded to thin gray lines, then disappeared entirely.

  Kass sat on a supply crate, trying to patch herself up with the vehicle’s other, human medical supplies. Her hands shook as she tried to thread a needle—not from fear, but from everything catching up to her at once.

  She’d taken more damage than she’d realized. A bullet graze across her ribs that she hadn’t felt during the fight. Glass cuts on her arms from diving through debris. The shoulder wound had reopened, bleeding through her jacket, and she was pretty sure there was still a bullet in there.

  But it was the other wounds that hurt worse. The ones she couldn’t bandage.

  More damage than she had realized.

  Marcus was dead. Again, someone from her past had paid the price for knowing Riot. She could still see his face in those final moments—not afraid, just resigned. Sorry. Like he’d known exactly what was coming and chosen it anyway.

  “Fuck,” she whispered, finally managing to get the needle through the gash on her forearm. The pain was sharp, immediate, easier to focus on than the mess in her head.

  She’d almost lost Velira. The thought was a punch to the gut, and she had to stop suturing to steady her breathing. For a few minutes in that tunnel, watching the black veins spread across pale skin, Kass had felt something she hadn’t experienced in years.

  Pure, undiluted terror.

  Not of dying—she’d made peace with that possibility long ago.

  Not of being alone—she’d been alone a long time. Chosen it. Needed it.

  No, it was terror of losing the one person who’d somehow slipped past all her defenses without her even noticing.

  When had that happened? When had Velira stopped being just a dangerous ally and become… what? Family? Something more complicated than that?

  When did she become…Velira?

  Kass finished the suture and moved on to the next wound, a deep cut on her thigh that had probably come from sliding across jagged metal. She’d been so focused on getting to the medical vehicle that she hadn’t felt any of it.

  That’s not what scared her most. Not the injuries, not how easily she’d compartmentalized everything—Marcus’s death, her own pain, the possibility of failure. She’d locked it all away and become a machine focused on one objective: save Velira.

  When had the vampire become that important to her?

  “How long was I out?” Velira’s voice was weak but clear.

  Kass looked up from her bandaging. Velira’s eyes were open, pale green and aware. The monitoring equipment showed steady vitals, whatever passed for normal for a vampire.

  “Couple hours. The filtration system worked exactly like they designed it.” Kass kept her voice level, professional. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been poisoned and blood-filtered.” Velira tried to sit up, winced. “And you look like you’ve been through a meat grinder.”

  Kass glanced down at herself—torn jacket, blood-soaked shirt, bandages covering half her visible skin. “Combat’s not supposed to be pretty.”

  “Marcus?”

  The name hit hard. Kass’s hands stilled on the bandage she was wrapping.

  “Dead. Red Memory killed him as soon as he served his purpose.” The words came out flat, emotionless. Easier that way.

  Velira was quiet for a long moment. “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” Kass went back to her bandaging, focusing on the mechanical process of wound care. Thread, tie, cut. Simple. Controllable.

  “You saved my life,” Velira said quietly.

  “You’ve saved mine plenty of times.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  Kass knew what she meant. But acknowledging it would mean admitting how much Velira mattered to her, and that was a road she wasn’t ready to walk down. Caring about people got them killed. Marcus was proof of that. Her old crew was proof of that.

  Shit, an undead, unkillable, true fucking vampire almost died because of it.

  But as she sat in the stolen medical vehicle, surrounded by equipment designed to keep Velira alive, Kass had to face the truth she’d been avoiding for a long time.

  She already cared. Had been caring for a while now. And the thought of losing Velira didn’t just scare her—it affected her in ways she hadn’t felt since her parents died in the protests.

  “We should move,” she said instead. “This place won’t be safe for long.”

  Velira studied her face with those too-perceptive eyes. “Kass—”

  “I said we should move.” The words came out sharper than intended. Kass stood, testing her newly bandaged wounds. Everything hurt, but hurt in a way she could handle. “Red Memory knows we took their medical vehicle. They’ll be looking for it.” For you.

  Velira slowly sat up, disconnecting herself from the IV lines with careful precision. “Where do we go?”

  “Safe house in Sector 24. Different from the others, completely off-grid.” Kass moved to the driver’s seat, not meeting Velira’s eyes. “We lay low, figure out our next move.”

  What she didn’t say was that she needed time to process everything that had happened. Marcus’s death. The trap. How close she’d come to losing the one person who’d somehow become essential to her survival.

  The one person she couldn’t afford to lose, but was now terrified of keeping.

  As the medical vehicle pulled away from the terminal, into the rising shades of dawn, Kass caught sight of herself in the side mirror—bandaged, bleeding, but alive. They were both alive.

  For now, that would have to be enough.

  But she could feel Velira watching her, patient as always, waiting for the walls to come down.

  And that scared her more than any Red Memory operative ever could.????????????????