Page 65 of A Mastery of Crows

As soon as she looks away, my hand fiddles with the shim, sliding it into the locking mechanism. It takes a few seconds before I’m able to get it into place and push the cuffs down, tightening them with a silent prayer.

They click open. Breathing deeply, I pass the shim to Stefan and slide my knives from the back of my heels.

Fuckingidiots.

After his own cuffs click free, I hand him one of my knives before dropping the other in my lap. Keeping my wrists pushed together, I lift my hands and prod experimentally at the plastic. It moves beneath my fingers, a poor imitation of what you’d see in a real cop car.

I’m almost disappointed.

Stefan taps my knee, his gazes questioning. I move my hands to show him, nodding at his own area. My lips move.On three.

One.

Two.

“Hey, Rankin,” I call through the plastic. She glances up at me with a smug smile. “How much is Matteo paying you?”

The smile slides off her face, but mine grows.

“Three.”

I pull my hand back and slam it into the plastic as hard as I can. It parts like butter beneath the lethally sharp edge of my dagger – straight into the neck of the driver. Beside me, Stefan’s jab is vicious enough the pop the screen out of its weak fastening, even as the dagger goes straight through Rankin’s throat.

The car swerves, veers wildly to the side. “Shit—.”

Stefan pulls his dagger free, his hand grabbing for the door as wet, gurgling sounds come from the seats in front of us. Breathing hard, I yank the dagger in my hand as far as I can to the left, praying that it shifts the driver’s weight.

It works a little too well.

I slam against the door, Stefan almost sliding into me as the car spins. His eyes meet mine, full of fear as he throws his arm across my chest.

Neither of us is wearing abelt—

Metal crumples around us with a screeching sound as the world flips. My head slams into the roof as I’m flung into the air, Stefan’s arm catching me before it gets ripped away.

I try to suck air into my lungs as the car rocks, and then settles on its roof. A hissing noise sounds as I blink the dizziness away. The taste of iron floods my mouth. “Ste… Stefan.”

My hand bangs against the window. Again. I twist my head, ignoring the burst of pain. “Stefan?”

Voices, panicked voices, calling my name. Stefan’s name. Groggy, I reach for his shoulder, shake it. “They’re here. It worked.”

He’s still silent, and icy tendrils begin to wrap around my chest. “Stefano.”

Sharper this time, tinged with panic. His face is turned away from me, and why the fuck isn’t hesayinganything—

Faces at the window, banging on it. Ignoring them, I pull myself over to him, turn his face to mine. His dark eyes are hidden beneath closed eyelids, and I wipe at the blood on his face.

He looks like he’s sleeping—

Glass smashes behind me. “Cat. Are you hurt?”

“Help him,” I rasp. “Dom. Help him.”

“Talk to me—,”

“Help him!”

I scream the words around a raw throat.