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He flinches as though my words slapped him. There’s a subtle pull of his shoulders and the twitch at the corner of his jaw. “The scar’s from a fire. One that someone else caused, all because I let someone get too close.”

I step closer to him. “Is that why you work so hard to push me away?”

He says nothing, but his jaw ticks.

I clench my newly bruising fist in anger and confusion. “Dammit, Jace. I’m not going to jump in your pants, if that’s all you think I’m after.”

“Then what are you after?”

I look at him in bewilderment. “My sister, Jace. I’m after my sister.”

He averts his gaze to scan the shadows. I’m so damn tired of him looking away every time things get real.

“What are you afraid of?” I demand.

He stands too still. I understand by now how dangerous that is, but he’s a big red button I can’t help but push.

“You could’ve walked away a dozen times. You could’ve tied me up and dragged me back to your little colony, where apparently Zoey and Emily are waiting for me. But you didn’t. You stayed. You helped. And you treated my wound like it mattered more than your own hands.” My breath shakes, but I keep going. “You act like you despise me, but here you are helping me search for my abducted sister. Again.”

His jaw clenches again, and he looks at me. His voice is strained when he speaks. “Don’t do this, Autumn. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re still deciding if I’m worth it, when we both know I’m not.”

Something cracks in me at those words. I don’t even know if I’m furious or hurting for him. Maybe both.

I step in close, and his shoulders stiffen. The storm rolling off this man is unmatched. I lower my voice. “You’re worth a lot more than you think you are, no matter how stubborn your stupid ass gets.”

A small smile tugs at his lips, but it disappears when his jaw tightens. He turns and starts walking again, thinking this conversation is over.

It’s not.

I open my mouth to press him further, when a shadow shifts to my right. I spin around to face it head on, but I’m already too late.

A man steps out from behind the rusted shell of avending machine, and the first thing I see is the gun in his hand. The second thing I notice is he’s pointing it straight at my head. I suck in air, but I can’t seem to get my vocal cords to work.

“Purple hair,” the man rasps out. One side of his mouth lifts into a half-snarl-half-smile. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Every part of me locks up. My blood runs cold, and my breath sticks in my throat, but Jace moves fast. He shoves me behind him before grabbing the man’s wrist and jerking the gun upward. The shot goes off with a thunderous crack and punches a hole in the ceiling. Crumbling plaster rains down around us like white ash.

Jace twists the man’s arm behind his back and slams him down face-first into the filthy concrete until blood pools around the man’s lips. The gun skitters across the floor and beneath the vending machine. Jace jams his knee into the man’s spine while twisting one arm behind his back. “Talk. Now.”

“You’re not going to get my reward,” the man wheezes.

“I don’t give a shit about any reward. Who sent you?”

“The ones working with the G.L.” The man coughs and sputters, but his eyes are gleaming.

“Who the hell is that?”

The man laughs, but it’s a sick, wet sound. Something rustles overhead. Jace hears it a second too late.

A figure drops out of the shattered plaster ceiling above and lands on the man with a wet snarl.

A rotter.

Gray, soaked, and hungry.