Kate launched herself forward, off the wall and across a six-foot gap between the construction project and the roof of a low building. She landed, stumbled a few steps, and took off, not even looking back. The message was clear: keep up or get lost. August took a breath, gripped the violin case, and leaped. He cleared the roof’s edge and slid, scrambling upright as Kate disappeared behind a rooftop structure. August followed, and when he rounded the corner, she caught his shoulder, pressing him back against the wall beside her, out of the line of sight.
“You do this often?” he whispered. “Jumping between buildings, running over rooftops?”
Kate raised a blond brow. “You don’t?” She almost smiled, though it could have been a grimace; when she leaned forward, he could see the jagged line the Malchai’s teeth had cut into her shoulder.
August scanned the buildings. “Where are we?”
“Outer edge of the red.”
“I have an access point near the Seam. If we can get to South City—”
“We?” She pushed open the rooftop door and started down the stairs. “You saved me. I saved you. The way I see it, we’re even.”
August frowned. “I’m not leaving you.”
“And I’m not going to Flynn.”
“We could protect you.”
She let out a sound like a laugh but colder. “Oh, I’m sure.”
He followed her down the stairs. “Fine, don’t believe me, but it isn’t safe here.”
“It isn’t safe anywhere,” she snapped, the truth welling up. “I can’t go home. Harker Hall is in the center of the red, and whether or not my father’s there, Sloan will be, and—”
August caught the scent of blood and pressed his hand over her mouth, tilting his head toward the street. Kate started to protest, but must have seen the answer in his eyes, because she went silent. He strained, trying to make out the voices.
“. . . not in the building . . .”
“. . . call it in . . .”
“. . . check the cameras . . .”
“. . . signal . . .”
August and Kate stood in the stairwell, perfectly still, until the voices trailed away, blending with the hum of engines and the other city sounds. When he lowered his hand, Kate wiped her face with the back of her sleeve. “What did they say?” she asked.
“Give me your phone.”
She dragged the cell from her pocket and handed it over. August set it on the stairs and crushed it underfoot. Kate scowled. “Necessary?” she whispered.
“Couldn’t hurt,” he whispered back. “Is all of North City wired?”
Kate nodded. “Cameras on almost every block.”
“Almost?”
Kate considered him. “There are some exceptions.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve memorized them all?”
Kate raised a brow. “I’ve only had a week.”
August’s spirits sank. And then her lips twitched, the barest edge of a smile, tired but knife-sharp. “I got through the ones in the red.”
August straightened. “If you want to run, I won’t stop you, but first, help me find another phone.”
The sun had dipped below the skyline, and the city was beginning to fold in on itself. Not like in South City, where everything was boarded up and everyone shrank inside their armored shells, but even here the streets were emptying, as anyone without Harker’s protection headed home and even those with medallions went inside. The restaurants and bars were filled with people brave enough to venture out but not linger on the sidewalks, which meant that, even avoiding cameras, every moment they were in the street, they were standing out.
August followed Kate through a network of streets and into a nearby café.
She beelined for the bathroom, and came out a few minutes later wearing someone else’s clothes and holding someone else’s cell phone. She handed him back the Colton jacket. “Hope you don’t mind, I got a little blood on it.”
August wrinkled his nose. “Thanks,” he said, shrugging it on over his polo. She passed him the cell, and they hovered in the dark hall between the kitchen and the tables and out of the line of the restaurant’s camera as he dialed.
After two rings, someone answered. “FTF.”
It caught him off guard. He was so used to calling from his own cell, which went directly to the family line. But they’d gone over this, along with every other fallback and safety net, before he started at Colton.
“Flynn,” said August.
“Code?”
“Seven eighteen three.”
“Status.”
“Red.”
“Hold.”
The line went silent, and August was starting to worry they’d dropped the call when he heard a click and then Henry’s voice, sharp with worry.
“August? August, is that you?”
His chest tightened. “It’s me, Dad.”
Something crossed Kate’s face at the use of the word.
“Where are you? What’s going on? Are you all right?”
“I’m okay, but something’s happened and I need to—”
“August,” cut in another voice. Leo.
“Leo, I need to talk to Henry right now. Put him back on.”
“Are you alone?” His brother’s voice was low and steady, his will as solid as a wall.
The answer tumbled out before August could stop it. “No.”
“Who is with you?”
“Kate,” he answered, trying to focus. “Leo, listen, someone tried to kill her at Colton today. They killed others, too. It was two Malchai, but they tried to make it look like us. We both managed to get away, but they’re still looking for her and I think—”
“Leave her.”
The rest of August’s words snagged in his throat. “What?”