“It was still wrong.”
Corin steps closer, fury sharpening the restored brightness in his eyes. “You are not using yourself as bait ten minutes after he says abduction is imminent.”
“That is exactly why I’m doing it.”
“No, Sable, that is exactly why you’re not.”
I pull my hand free from Rhazek’s, though the moment our fingers separate the tether gives a faint, unhappy pull beneath my ribs. “Maltherion is setting a path. If we wait until he finishes, he chooses the hour, the place, and the method. I would rather know where the teeth are before they close.”
Rhazek’s expression hardens into something older than anger. “I forbid it.”
Corin actually pauses long enough to stare at him. “Bold choice.”
I give Rhazek a slow look. “You forbid it.”
“Yes.”
“That is adorable.”
“It is not meant to be adorable.”
“No, it is meant to be controlling, which is why it fails.”
His eyes darken. “You are the target.”
“I am aware.”
“You cannot defend against a net designed specifically to separate you from me.”
“Then follow me.”
“That contradicts the word alone.”
“Not if you follow at a distance.”
Corin points between us. “That is not how alone works, and I say that as the least demonic person in this argument.”
I look at him. “You take the rooftops.”
“Oh, good. I have a stupid job too.”
“You’re fast now. Use it.”
His anger flickers because he hears the truth in it, and for one moment I see the cost of asking him. He is stronger than hewas, faster than he should be, and every useful thing about that terrifies us both. Still, he straightens.
Rhazek steps in front of the door. “No.”
I walk toward him anyway.
The tether tightens with each step, responding to proximity, resistance, anger, and the terrible awareness that both of us are already calculating losses. He does not move. Neither do I. The air between us grows dense with infernal heat and human stubbornness.
“Move,” I say.
“No.”
“Rhazek.”
“If you cross that threshold, Maltherion may trigger the marked path.”
