Page 91 of Veil of Dust

She steps closer.

Close enough that I feel the heat between us again. Not sexual. Not soft.

Just two weapons drawn in the same direction.

Her hand rests on my chest.

Over the raven tattoo. The one that marked me when I chose the Order.

She presses her palm there. Blood sticks to her skin.

“I don’t know what this means for you,” she says. “What the Order will do. What Bianca will try.”

“They’ll come.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

She nods.

I look down at her hand.

“Do you still trust me?” I ask.

“I trust the blood,” she says.

“Mine?”

“Ours.”

Her fingers curl into my shirt.

I lean in.

Not for a kiss.

Just to touch her forehead with mine.

To remind myself we’re both still here.

She closes her eyes.

So do I.

And for a few seconds, nothing moves.

No threats.

No bullets.

No ghosts.

Just breath and blood and the shape of what we’ve become.

When we pull apart, it’s like cutting a wire.

The charge lingers.

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