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The garage lights turned orange before Caden got the car door open.
Not warm orange. Not normal bad-bulb orange.
The concrete pillars glowed from the inside, thin lines of color crawling through them like somebody'd poured molten metal into the bones of the building.
Nora kept one hand on the door handle. "Tell me that's your rich-guy security system."
Caden didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
He stepped out first, one hand flat against the roof of the black SUV. His suit looked as clean as it had twenty minutes ago, but his jaw was locked so hard she could see the muscle move.
"Stay in the car," he said.
Nora gave a sharp laugh. "Oh, sure. Because staying in a car inside the creepy glowing garage has worked out great for me lately."
"Nora."
"Don't Nora me." She climbed out anyway.
The air hit her face hot and dry. It smelled wrong. Not like gasoline. Not like electrical fire. No plastic, no smoke, no burned insulation.
It smelled like the subway tunnel.
Like hot pennies and rain on pavement.
Her stomach dropped.
Caden rounded the front of the SUV fast. "Get back in."
"You said midnight." Nora looked at her phone. 11:47 p.m. The screen had no service, just a dead little circle spinning where the bars should've been. "We've got thirteen minutes. What happens at midnight?"
His eyes flicked to her bare left hand.
There it was.
The black-gold ring sat in his palm, too dark to catch the garage light. It looked simple from a distance. Up close, it wasn't. Fine gold lines ran through the black metal in uneven veins.
Like cracks in cooled lava.
Nora backed up one step.
"No."
Caden's hand stayed where it was. "Put it on."
"You said marriage deal. Paperwork. A house. Maybe some stupid press photos where I pretend I don't hate your face. You did not mention magic murder jewelry."
"It isn't—"
A hard pop cracked through the garage.
Every orange line in the concrete brightened at once.
Nora flinched. Heat rushed over her skin. Her pulse kicked hard enough to hurt.
Caden moved between her and the nearest pillar without thinking. His arm came out across her stomach, stopping her from stepping back.
She stared at it.
Then at him.
"Move your hand."
"Not yet."
"I'm not your hostage."
"I know." His voice stayed low. Too low. "That's why I'm asking you once. Put on the ring."
"And if I don't?"
A second pop. This one louder.
The overhead sprinkler heads began to hiss.
No water came out.
Steam did.
Nora looked up. Her skin prickled. "Caden."
"The ring goes on, or this whole level becomes a furnace."
She shoved his arm away. "You don't get to say insane crap like that and expect me to just nod. What is it? What'd you put in that thing?"
"Nothing was put in it."
"Great. Worse answer."
He took one step closer.
Caden Cross had the kind of face people trusted in magazines. Dark suit. Perfect hair. Expensive watch. The calm, cold stare of a man who probably had assistants scheduling his breathing.
Right now, he looked like he was one bad second away from breaking somebody's neck.
Maybe hers.
"Your brother's alive," he said.
Nora went still.
He knew exactly where to hit.
"You don't know that."
"I have people looking."
"Your people didn't stop him from getting taken."
His mouth tightened.
Good. Let that land.
Nora pointed at the ring. "You want me to wear it, tell me why. Real words. No billionaire mystery-man bullshit."
For half a second, he said nothing.
The garage lights buzzed louder.
Then Caden looked at the glowing concrete and cursed under his breath.
"Because something under this city knows you're here," he said.
Nora blinked.
"That's not a real sentence."
"It's the only one you have time for."
"Try harder."
The gold lines in the ring lit up.
Nora's breath caught.
Not because he touched her.
He hadn't.
The ring just moved in his hand.
It tilted toward her fingers like a compass needle finding north.
She yanked her hand behind her back.
"Nope. Hell no."
A blast of heat punched out from the pillar behind her.
Nora stumbled forward with a cry. Caden caught her by the waist. The concrete where she'd been standing turned red-orange, not fully melted, but close enough that the air above it warped.
His grip tightened.
"Nora. Ring. Now."
She twisted in his hold. "Let go of me!"
"I can't."
"You can't what?"
"I can't let you get near that wall."
"Why's the wall trying to cook me?"
Caden looked at her.
Not past her. Not at the garage. At her.
His eyes dropped to her hands.
The tips of her fingers were glowing.
Nora stopped fighting.
Tiny orange sparks danced under her skin.
No.
No, no, no.
She rubbed her thumb hard against her index finger. The spark followed. It stretched, thin as thread, then snapped out.
Her throat closed.
"That's not me," she whispered.
Caden didn't lie.
That scared her more than if he had.
"It is," he said.
She shoved him away with both hands.
A shockwave ripped through the garage.
The SUV alarm started screaming. Car windows burst two rows over. Glass sprayed across the concrete in glittering pieces.
Nora hit the hood of the SUV, palms flat against hot metal.
The fire came up under her hands.
Not flames. Not yet.
A red glow spread across the hood in the shape of her fingers.
She jerked back, staring at the marks.
Caden was in front of her again. Fast. Too fast. His tie had come loose. His calm was gone now, finally cracked wide enough for her to see what sat underneath it.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
"Don't touch anything," he said.
Nora's laugh came out broken. "You think I'm doing this on purpose?"
"No."
"Then tell me how to stop it!"
The overhead lights exploded.
Darkness slammed down over the garage, except for the orange lines in the walls and the glow under Nora's skin.
Somewhere on the upper level, a car alarm began to wail.
Then another.
Then ten more.
Nora pressed both hands against her chest like she could hold her ribs together. Heat rolled through her in waves. Her heart was too fast. Her skin felt too tight.
She remembered the subway.
The wall of fire stopping before it hit her.
Ruiz looking at her like she was a bomb with legs.
Milo's voicemail.
Hey, Nori. If anything weird happens, don't trust—
The message cut off in her head exactly where it had cut off on the phone.
"Milo," she gasped.
Caden caught her shoulders. "Stay with me."
"They took him because of this."
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"I don't know who got to him first."
"You said you had people looking."
"I do."
"Then find him!"
Heat burst from her body.
The SUV's side mirror folded in on itself with a screech of softening metal.
Caden didn't let go.
"I will."
"You don't get to promise that like it fixes anything."
"I know."
That stopped her.
His voice had gone rough.
Caden looked over his shoulder at the garage exit. The security gate was down. Thick steel bars. Beyond it, orange light pulsed through the dark street.
Nora followed his gaze.
"What's that?"
"A breach."
"A breach of what?"
He looked back at her, and for once he didn't seem to be choosing his words. He seemed to be trying not to say them at all.
"There are things in this city that stay buried because they're supposed to. Your mother knew that."
Nora froze.
"Don't talk about my mother."
"She wore one of these."
The ring in his hand glowed brighter.
Nora stared at it.
Her mother's old fire came back in ugly pieces. The smoke. The wet blanket around Nora's shoulders. A firefighter yelling that the house was clear.
Her mother wasn't clear.
Her mother'd been found in the kitchen, burned so badly Nora'd never been allowed to see her.
"You knew her," Nora said.
Caden's silence lasted one second too long.
"Caden."
"Yes."
The word hit harder than a slap.
"How?"
"Not here."
"Of course not here. Why would you ever answer one damn question?"
She turned away from him.
Bad move.
The heat in her chest surged so hard her knees buckled.
Caden grabbed her before she hit the concrete. This time she didn't fight him. She couldn't. Her breath came in sharp little cuts. Every inhale scraped.
"It hurts," she said.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
"No." His hand slid up, cupping the back of her neck. "I don't. But I know what it does next."
Nora looked at him through the heat haze.
"What's it do next?"
He held up the ring.
"It calls louder."
The garage floor split open three feet away.
Not much. Just a jagged crack, maybe six feet long.
Orange light spilled out of it.
Then something knocked from below.
Once.
Twice.
Nora stopped breathing.
Caden's face went pale under the garage glow.
"Put it on," he said.
She looked at the ring. "What's it do to me?"
"It keeps your fire contained."
"Contained where?"
"In you."
"That's not comforting."
"I'm not trying to comfort you. I'm trying to keep this block standing."
The crack in the floor widened with a loud snap.
Hot air rushed up Nora's legs.
She looked at the gate. At the exit. At the dead phone in her pocket. At Caden, who had every answer except the ones she needed.
Then she thought about Milo somewhere alone.
Maybe hurt.
Maybe waiting for her to come get him.
"Three months," she said.
Caden's eyes locked on hers.
"What?"
"The deal. Three months. You find Milo. You clear my name. And you tell me what happened to my mother. All of it. No more dodging."
"Nora—"
"Say it."
Another knock came from beneath the floor.
The sound was huge.
The whole garage shook.
Caden stared at her for one raw, awful second.
Then he said, "Three months. I swear it."
"Swearing doesn't mean much coming from you."
"I know."
She held out her left hand.
His fingers closed around hers, careful but firm. His skin was cool. The ring was not.
The second it touched her finger, pain ripped through her hand.
Nora screamed.
The band snapped tight around her skin before Caden could pull it back.
Black metal bit down at the base of her finger.
She clawed at it with her other hand. "Get it off! Get it off me!"
"Don't pull it."
"It's burning me!"
The ring heated until it glowed dark red. Smoke curled from Nora's skin. The smell made her gag.
She grabbed it anyway.
The garage answered.
Every orange line in the walls flared white-hot.
Caden caught both her wrists. "Stop. Nora, stop."
"Take it off!"
"If it comes off right now, the fire doesn't stay with you. It spreads."
"I don't care!"
"You will when it reaches the apartments above us!"
That cut through.
Nora's chest heaved.
Above the garage were six floors of luxury condos. People sleeping. Kids. Dogs. Somebody probably standing in a kitchen right now, annoyed that their microwave clock was blinking.
The heat rolled up her arm.
Her vision blurred at the edges.
Caden pulled her close, not gentle now. Not pretending. One hand locked around her wrists. The other pressed flat between her shoulder blades.
"Eyes on me," he said.
She shook her head hard. "I can't."
"Yes, you can. Nora. Look at me."
She did.
His face was inches from hers. His expression had stripped down to nothing but focus and panic he was trying to bury.
"Breathe with me," he said.
"I hate you."
"Fine. Hate me after. In."
He dragged in a breath.
Nora tried to follow and choked on it.
"Again," he said.
The fire crawled over the concrete, thin little snakes of orange racing away from them.
"Caden—"
"In. Hold it. Now out."
His thumb pressed against the inside of her wrist, right over her pulse.
Nora breathed in.
Held it.
The ring burned.
She breathed out.
The nearest line of fire stopped.
Caden's eyes stayed on hers. "Again."
Her lungs shook. She did it anyway.
In.
Hold.
Out.
The glow under her skin pulled back from her fingertips.
The crack in the floor stopped widening.
A third breath.
Then a fourth.
The fire on the walls dimmed from white to orange. Orange to red. Red to a thin ember glow that sank into the concrete and disappeared.
The car alarms died one by one.
Silence hit the garage like a weight.
Nora's legs gave out.
Caden caught her before she dropped. He lowered them both to the concrete, her back against his chest, his arms locked around her ribs.
She couldn't feel her hands.
No.
She could.
She just wished she couldn't.
The ring sat cool and quiet on her finger now, black metal smooth as glass. No heat. No glow. Like it had never done anything wrong.
Nora stared at it.
"I can't take it off," she said.
Caden's voice came low against her ear. "No."
"Ever?"
He didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Nora closed her eyes.
Her mother'd worn one of these.
Her mother'd burned alive in a kitchen that shouldn't have caught fire.
And now Nora was wearing it too.
She opened her eyes and looked at the crack in the floor. The orange glow was gone. Just smooth concrete now, split down the middle like something'd tried to claw its way out.
"What was that?" she asked.
Caden's arms tightened.
"Something that wanted you."
"Why?"
"I don't know yet."
Nora twisted in his grip to look at him. His face was too close. His eyes were too sharp. He looked like a man who'd just barely stopped something from going very, very wrong.
"You're lying," she said.
His jaw worked.
Then he let her go and stood, offering a hand.
She didn't take it.
She got up on her own, legs shaking, and leaned against the SUV. The hood still had the faint outline of her handprints burned into the paint.
Great.
Caden pulled his phone from his pocket. The screen lit his face cold and blue. He typed something fast, then looked at her.
"We're leaving."
"Where?"
"Somewhere it can't find you again."
Nora laughed. It came out sharp and mean. "You mean somewhere you can keep me locked up."
"Yes."
At least he was honest.
She looked at the ring on her finger.
Then at the cracked floor.
Then at Caden, who knew her mother, who had people looking for Milo, who'd just made her put on a piece of jewelry that bit down like a living thing.
"Three months," she said.
He nodded once.
"Three months."
Nora climbed back into the SUV.
Caden got in beside her and started the engine.
The garage gate rolled up with a mechanical groan.
Beyond it, the street was dark and empty.
No orange glow.
No fire.
Just the city, cold and quiet, like nothing had happened at all.
Nora pressed her left hand against the window.
The ring caught the passing streetlights and threw back little flecks of gold.
She thought about her mother.
She thought about Milo.
She thought about the thing under the garage floor that had knocked twice and then stopped.
And she wondered if it was still down there.
Waiting.