Page 101 of The Final Contract

I blink through the haze, through the smoke, and Finn is there, on the ground beside me.

A knife juts from the center of his chest. His eyes are wide, glassy, his mouth open as if to speak. His chest still moves—but not for long. My nurse’s mind doesn’t need a stethoscope to know he won’t survive this.

My stomach flips, bile rising, but before I can crawl to him, hands seize me.

I’m rolled onto my back, the ceiling swimming above me. The light blocked out by a man.

He looks like Killian. Same sharp angles, same eyes. But these aren’t Killian’s eyes. They’re colder. Hateful.

He smiles down at me, and it’s not kindness—it’s knives and promises of pain.

The ringing in my ears fades into static, and I can just make out his voice, distorted, heavy, like I’m hearing him underwater.

“Name’s Cormac.” His smile widens, cruel. “You’ve been keeping my brother quite distracted, haven’t you?”

I’m tearing through Manhattan like the devil is on my bumper, one hand locked around the wheel, the other hitting redial again and again.

No answer.

Her number just rings.

Yesterday’s memory won’t let go—the blackout, her penthouse swallowed in darkness, my heart dropping into my stomach. Feels like that was a warning. A shadow cast ahead of tonight.

Now it’s happening for real.

“Pick up,” I growl, flooring it through another red light. Horns blare, brakes screech, but I don’t stop. Can’t. I’m closer to the Ledger than her place, but my gut’s already twisting, screaming I’m behind. That I’m too goddamn late.

The phone in my hand vibrates, then shrieks.

A sound I never wanted to hear.

The Ledger app.

Its alert cuts through me like a siren, sharp and merciless. It only screams like that for one reason.

Code Black.

A Companion is dead.

My chest locks, vision tunneling for a second before rage burns the haze away.

No. Not her. Not Seraphina.

I slam my foot down harder, weaving through traffic like the city belongs to me. Every instinct I have screams blood. If Cormac laid a hand on her—if he so much as breathed her air—then I’ll carve my way through New York until his heart stops beating.

I’m calling everyone.

Lucian. Straight to voicemail.

Finn. Nothing.

Her. Again. Still nothing.

Every second of silence tightens around my throat until I’m choking on it.

The app goes off again, louder this time, blaring like an air raid siren. My eyes flick to the screen on the dash.

CODE BLACK: All Companions report to a checkpoint. All Contracts are cancelled effective immediately.