Page 23

We’re preparing to scout the collapsed building Jace spotted with his binoculars yesterday while he was pointedly avoiding Autumn. He thought he saw signs of human activity there, so we’re about to go see if it leads to anything useful. Or dangerous. At this point, they’re usually the same thing.

The others gather near the fire. No one says what we’re all thinking; we’re still raw from the last attack. But Autumn is holding it together better than the rest of us. Hell, probably better than I am.

The morning sun burns through the lifting fog, already heating the air. Autumn stands near the flames, reaching to shrug out of my hoodie from last night.

The fabric catches on the hem of her tank top when she pulls it overhead, tugging the already-shortened shirt higher.

My breath catches. The torn tank barely covers her, and now it rides up to bare her toned stomach and the soft curve of her breast. The way her body moves under that thin scrap of fabric hits me like a punch to the chest. And the worst part?

She doesn’t even realize how gorgeous she is.

“You’re dangerous when you look like that.” The words are out before I can stop them.

Shit.

My jaw tenses, but I can’t take it back now.

I dart forward and step in front of her to block the view from prying eyes.

My hands find the hem of her shirt and tug it down carefully, fingers brushing warm skin.

I help her pull the hoodie off without further incident, using my height to maneuver the fabric over her head.

She hands the hoodie back with a soft smile. “Thank you for letting me borrow it. I might steal it again later. Fair warning.”

I shove it into my bag. “You can have it anytime you want.”

She tilts her head back to meet my gaze, and her bright hazel eyes catch the sunlight. “Wait…I’m dangerous when I look like what?”

Oh yeah. She heard that.

“Unaware of yourself,” I say.

A sly smile tugs at her lips. “Then maybe you should walk in front. That way I won’t be so… distracting.”

That’s what undoes me. Not the smile. Not the curves. That damn sentence and the confidence behind it.

Without thinking, I lean in and kiss her. Right there in front of everyone. My hair falls forward, curtaining us for a moment. I don’t give a damn who’s watching. Right now, she’s the only thing that matters.

Her eyes widen, hands instinctively bracing against my chest. I doubt she expected this kind of boldness from me. Hell, even I’m surprised.

Mars lets out a low whistle. “Get a room,” he calls, grinning wide, but the warmth in his voice surprises me.

I rest my forehead against hers. My pale skin against her sun-kissed complexion feels like its own contrast. “I should walk ahead,” I murmur. “If I keep looking at you like that, I’m going to forget how to breathe.”

“Cass…” she whispers, biting her lip.

I pull back, stepping away before I do something even dumber.

Jace finishes packing and slings his bag over one shoulder. A pistol rides at his hip, but it’s the new knife in his hand that catches my eye.

He follows my gaze and shrugs. “It was embedded in a rotter’s leg. Had to wrestle it away from Luna.”

I lift a brow. “The knife?”

He shakes his head. “The leg. That dog really likes rotter legs. Ignored everything else. Took two bribes before I could grab this one.”

I chuckle at the image. “Wish I’d seen that.”

Luna trails behind us as a silent shadow when we move out. Autumn slipped her scraps of food this morning while calling her name in that soft voice of hers. The dog stayed even closer to her after that.

We reach an old loading dock. The collapsed grocery warehouse looms behind it.

The place looks like it’s seen better days.

We tighten our formation with Jace up front, Mars at the rear, and Autumn pressing close to my side in the middle.

We can handle rotters, but after our last exploration, we’re watching for snipers and worse.

A rotter stumbles out from the rubble with a wet snarl and an unhinged jaw.

Jace moves first. He slams the butt of his pistol into its skull and it staggers.

Before I can react, a second rotter emerges from the shadows behind the first. Autumn doesn’t hesitate.

She pulls out her knife and drives it straight through the second rotter’s eye socket with more force than I expected from someone her size. The rotter drops.

“Yes,” she exclaims, throwing her arms up in triumph. “Drowning makes it a double kill.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Mars says, but he’s grinning.

Then she trips on something hidden in the grass and landing hard with a hollow thud that echoes.

I’m beside her in an instant, offering my hand. “You okay?”

She takes my hand and lets me pull her to her feet. Her gaze drifts to a dark pool nearby. “Rotter fell in. My knife’s still in its skull.” She chews her lower lip in thought. “How deep do you think that is?”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” I say, my voice flat.

Meanwhile, Jace crouches where she fell. “That sound…” He clears away weeds. “This isn’t normal ground.”

The cleared weeds reveal a metal door flush with the ground. When Jace grips the handle and pulls it open with a rusty groan, we can see stairs descending into pitch-black darkness below.

“Well,” Mars says from behind us, looking over Autumn’s head with his chest against her back. His hand rests on her arms. “That’s not ominous at all.”

Autumn steps forward. Before Mars can crowd closer again, I’m already moving.

I slide my backup blade from my hip and slip behind her, tall enough to easily encompass her smaller frame.

My arm wraps around her waist and I slip the blade into the waistband of her jeans, angled low for a quick draw.

My fingers brush bare skin above her hipbone, heat sparking under my touch.

Her breath catches. Everything about her is becoming distracting.

I lean down so my mouth is against her ear. “If anything comes near you, stab up into soft tissue. Twist before you pull. Human or rotter.”

She nods, and I lower my voice. “Still hate the thought of you needing to use it.”

“You’re sweet,” she murmurs.

“I’m selfish,” I say, and pull back.

She tilts her head, catching my gaze. “Then why does it sound like you’re trying to protect me more than yourself?”

“Because I protect the things I care about.” My eyes flick to the darkness below and I fight back another shudder. “Even if I can’t always follow.”

Our eyes lock. Her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t look away, and that’s the moment I know, deep down in the marrow of my bones, I’ve already lost my heart to her.

The air coming out of the bunker is damp, cold, and thick with decay. I scrunch up my nose in disgust. Mars crouches low and peers into the dark. “What do you think is down there? ”

“Only one way to find out,” Jace says before pushing past.

We lower ourselves through the narrow passage where the steps are cracked and missing in places. Jace is first, then Mars, then Autumn, and I hesitate last. Only when Autumn looks back at me with an outstretched hand do I grasp it and step in after her.

Old pipework lines the walls, and we have to duck to avoid hitting our heads. Well, except for Autumn. She’s the perfect height.

The darkness presses in around us. The familiar panic creeps up my spine with memories of other dark places threatening to surface until Jace pulls out his flashlight.

The beam cuts through the darkness, and I hurry to do the same, mentally berating myself for not thinking about this sooner.

Mars follows suit, and the three beams of light make the descent more bearable.

When we reach the bottom, Jace sweeps his light across the walls until he finds what he’s looking for. “There,” he says before flicking a switch.

Light floods the entire underground bunker. The relief that washes over me is so powerful, I almost sag against the wall. Electric lights. Thank fuck.

The space opens into a rectangular chamber. The walls are made of concrete, and the floor is covered in a patchwork of discarded blankets, moldy sleeping bags, and plastic jugs that hold more dust than air, except for a few containing a yellow mystery substance I’d rather not identify.

Mars kneels by a corner and sifts through debris.

Jace moves to the back wall. Autumn remains frozen in the middle after dropping her hand from mine.

Her eyes scan everything, and her breathing shallows.

I can see the way her hazel eyes take in every detail, searching for any sign of her sister.

I’m sure we’re all thinking the same thing.

Broken cots line the walls in stacks up to the ceiling. Old bedding is strewn across the space as though whoever occupied it was in a hurry to leave. There are marks on the far wall that look like scratches, and a peculiar board creaks beneath my boot, despite all the others being sealed well.

I kneel beside the loose floorboard and wedge my knife underneath.

The plank creaks when it lifts. There’s nothing there until I turn over the plank in my hand and see the rough carvings on the other side.

There are dozens of them. Names, numbers, crude tallies for something I don’t think I want to know.

One is scratched so deep that it splinters the wood: Purple hair—traded to G.L.

My stomach drops.

Before I can process what it means, Autumn gasps from where she’s peering over my shoulder. Her lips part, but she doesn’t speak. She kneels beside me and starts tracing the letters, over and over again with trembling fingers.

A delicate melody fills the air with soft, haunting notes I recognize. It’s the same tune Autumn was humming. The same one we hummed together in harmony.

My head snaps up to see Mars holding a tiny music box, its lid open, the mechanism playing that achingly familiar song. Dark rust lines streak along the side. I look over at Autumn right as the color drains from her face. Her eyes widen in recognition, and her hand flies to her mouth.

“That’s Summer’s.” Her voice breaks. “She never went anywhere without it. It was the only thing she had left from before the foster homes.”

I move before I think. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her into me. She sinks into it without hesitation and buries her face against my chest, her smaller frame trembling against mine.

“We’re on the right track.” Her words come out muffled against my shirt, but clear enough. Her voice cracks again. “She was here.”

I tighten my hold and rest my chin on top of her head, and stroke her tangled purple hair. When I meet the fierce gazes of Mars and Jace over her head, we make a silent agreement that whoever took her sister is going to regret it in all the most painful ways humanity has never known.

“We’re getting closer,” I tell her.

A wet gurgle echoes from the far corner of the bunker, followed by the scrape of dragging feet, and we all freeze.

A rotter emerges from behind a stack of broken cots.

Its movements are slow, and its clothes hang in tatters around its rotting body.

It’s been down here for a while. The skin is gray and peeling, and the eyes are milky white.

I unwrap my arms, push Autumn behind me, and draw my knife in one fluid motion. The rotter stumbles forward with its arms reaching out and its jaw hanging slack. Moving quickly, I drive my blade up through its chin and into its brain. It drops in an instant.

“Wait,” Mars says when he crouches beside the corpse. “Look at this.”

He points to the rotter’s jacket. Despite being torn and stained, the stitching is unmistakable. It’s heavy-duty and tactical with reinforced seams. The same pattern we found on that scrap of fabric.

“Same stitching,” Jace says, thinking the same thing I am. “One of the guys who took Summer, became a rotter. What do you think happened?”

I look down at Autumn. The grief in her gaze is gone, replaced by something harder. Hotter. A razor-edged resolve that scares even me, because I know where that kind of fire leads.