Chapter One
LOG ONE – OBSERVATION BEGINS: WE SET OUT TO BUILD A CURE, BUT WHEN SHE OPENED HER EYES, I FEARED WE’D CREATED SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY.
They say death is final,but I’ve seen enough ghosts to know the universe isn’t that simple. Death. The afterlife. The thin, haunting line that separates the living from the dead… I’ve walked it.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for Cade Calloway standing here, breathing, bleeding, and lying through his teeth.
Cade reaches for me, and I sidestep him.
What did he say? I was always meant to be his, and he’s here to take me home?
I shake my head and find my voice.
“Are you working with Marco? Did you help him escape? Where did he even go, and what the fuck is this?” I hold up the tiny vial. A single drop of viscous dark-green substance remains.
“I’ll explain everything, but please come with me first,” Cade says, his bright-green eyes widening.
I study his face for a beat, his disheveled black hair, his tan skin and full lips. It’s my Cade, only aged a bit. A huge part ofme wants him to take me away from here, to escape, to forget the last several years of my life.
But that’s not going to happen.
Maybe if he had found me sooner. Maybe if he had made this offer before this case with Viktor. But now, everything has changed.
I’ve changed.
“I can’t go with you, Cade. We should be searching for Marco or warning the others. Malachi and his team are outside?—”
He steps closer, shaking his head. There’s urgency in the way he presses his lips together, like he’s biting something back.
The rumbling sound hits first, sharp and violent. A split second later, the floor jolts beneath my feet like the world’s coming apart. I’d think it was an earthquake if it weren’t for the sound of the blast.
Cade’s hand wraps around mine.
“Run,” he says.
He pulls me toward the door, but we don’t make it.
The door bursts open with a crack, and Malachi storms in, still wearing full tactical gear. His eyes find mine and then drop to Cade’s fingers locked around my hand. His jaw tightens. I can practically hear the silent fury radiating off him.
“Where’s my father?”
I yank my hand out of Cade’s grip.
“He escaped,” I say, stepping forward. “I don’t know how, but he left this.”
I hold up the vial.
Malachi’s gaze never leaves mine as he takes it.
“Calloway,” he says, his eyes narrowing as he brings the vial up to his face, turning it over and examining it closely, “get to the jeep. You’re riding with Dante. We’ll debrief later.”
It’s the tone that brooks no argument. He’s done being nice… if he ever was.
And if my mind hadn’t fully processed it before, it does now—there’s history here. A strong one. I can feel it in the tension between them, in the way Malachi calls himCallowaywith disdain.
What surprises me even more? Cade listens.
He brushes past Malachi and heads for the doorway. No argument, no defiance, only quiet obedience that makes my spine prickle.
