The mountain wind bit into Nora's skin as she stared out at the pine-studded horizon. Everything was still—too still. No chirping birds. No distant sounds of civilization. Just a silence so thick it pressed against her ribs.
Behind her, the small cabin groaned in protest to the cold. Adrian hadn't slept all night. He never did, not when the world was hunting him like an apex predator.
Dax emerged from the back porch, cradling a steaming mug and wearing his permanent scowl. "He's still inside. On the satellite link again."
Nora turned. "Did he sleep at all?"
"You kidding?" Dax sipped. "The man doesn't blink, let alone nap. He's downloading blueprints for the Bone Cathedral now. Guess we're doing this."
Nora gave a humorless laugh. "I can't believe I agreed to walk into a place called the Bone Cathedral. Sounds like the worst metal band ever."
"You say that like it's a club," Dax muttered. "It's not. It's a death trap in Gothic cosplay."
She bit her lip. "Then why is Adrian going?"
Dax's eyes flicked toward the door. "Because he thinks sacrificing himself will save us all."
That evening, they left under a false moon and heavy snow. The road to the city was long, winding, and full of ghosts—Nora felt them in every turn, every mile marker passed. They rode in silence, each of them pretending this wasn't potentially the last ride they'd share together.
When they arrived, the Bone Cathedral looked like something out of a vampire-themed opera. Half-collapsed, its towering arches still clung to life through neon-lit resurrection. Crosses and coffins, candles and chrome. A place where sins weren't forgiven—they were sold.
Inside, the air was thick with incense and danger.
At the altar, surrounded by beautiful people with blood on their hands, sat Marcus Vale—ex-arms dealer, part-time psychopath, and the only person crazy enough to negotiate with the Hollow Syndicate.
"Well, if it isn't the infamous Adrian Black," Marcus said, spreading his arms like a preacher welcoming a wolf. "And he brought a date. How domestic."
"Cut the drama," Adrian said. "You have the list?"
"I have what you gave me. The real question is—why shouldn't I sell it to the highest bidder and leave you hanging by your neck in a butcher's freezer?"
"Because it's not the real list," Adrian said smoothly.
A hush fell over the room. Even the bartender stopped pouring.
Marcus tilted his head. "Explain."
Adrian leaned in. "What I gave you was a ghost version—planted with fake identities and disinformation. The real file… is up here." He tapped his temple.
Marcus leaned back in his throne. "So now I have a useless flash drive and a target on my back."
"You also have leverage," Adrian said. "Offer me up to the Hollow Syndicate in exchange for the real data. They'll bite. They want me alive—for a while."
"And once they have you?"
Adrian smiled. "You'll let them believe they won. Then you help my people take them down from the inside."
Marcus squinted at him. "You want me to pretend to sell you out… then help you backstab the most ruthless black market cartel on the planet?"
"Yes," Adrian said calmly. "Because you hate them more than you hate me. And because if this works, you'll walk away with a fortune and a reputation bigger than anyone on the blacklist."
Marcus was silent for a long time. Then he chuckled. "You're still the most arrogant bastard I've ever met."
"I've had practice."
"Fine," Marcus said, rising. "I'll set the meeting. But know this—if anything smells like a double-cross, I'll deliver your head to the Syndicate gift-wrapped."
As they turned to leave, Nora tugged on Adrian's sleeve. "This is insane. You're trusting a man who once sold a war to both sides just for fun."
"I'm not trusting him," Adrian replied. "I'm giving him a motive."
Back at the hideout that night, the silence between them grew heavier. Dax was making weapons checks. The safehouse felt more like a bunker than a home.
Nora stood at the window, arms crossed, watching the snow pile higher.
"You really plan to let them take you?" she asked quietly.
Adrian didn't look up from his laptop. "It's the only way to get inside the Syndicate's inner circle."
She turned. "And what if they kill you before we can do anything?"
"They won't. Not until they're sure I've cracked."
"Are you sure you won't crack?"
Finally, he looked at her.
His eyes were tired. More tired than she'd ever seen them.
"Nora… I'm not scared of dying. I'm scared of what happens if we don't end this."
She stepped closer. "I didn't sign up to bury you, Adrian."
"I know."
He closed the laptop and stood, walking over to her.
"I've pushed a lot of people away. Broken things I didn't know how to fix. But with you…" He hesitated. "I can't afford to care about anyone. But I do. That's the problem."
Nora's breath caught. She could feel the tension between them, taut and electric.
"You think I care because I'm your fake nanny?"
"I think you care because you're not fake at all."
She took a step closer.
His hand brushed her waist, just once—testing the line.
She didn't flinch.
Then they were kissing.
Not soft, not sweet—desperate.
His lips were rough and searching. Hers, defiant and hungry. It was a collision of fear and fire, months of unspoken tension bursting like a dam.
He pinned her against the wall, breath ragged. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer like he was the only warmth in a frozen world.
When they finally broke apart, his forehead rested against hers.
"We shouldn't…" he whispered.
"We already did," she said, chest rising and falling.
He chuckled, low and bitter. "You have the worst timing."
She smiled. "You love it."
He pulled her close again, burying his face in her neck. "If something happens to me…"
"I'll burn the world," she said softly. "So don't make me."
The next night, the meeting was set.
The Hollow Syndicate wanted Adrian. Alive. Bound. Delivered in a blind transport crate.
Nora watched as they prepared him. Zip-tie cuffs. Sedative patch. Earpiece hidden in a molar cap.
He looked at her once before they loaded him in.
She mouthed, I'll find you.
He didn't respond.
Just nodded.
And then he was gone.
Taken.
Delivered like a ghost in a box.
But Nora wasn't broken.
She turned to Dax.
"Time to light a fire," she said. "Let's give them a war."