Chapter 919
Skye walked into the bedroom. Lucian sat on the edge of the bed, still recovering from the gunshot wound he had taken weeks ago — a parting gift from the Architect’s sniper. He looked pale, but his eyes burned with a cold blue fire.
“I’m not dead,” Lucian said, not looking up.
“Silas wants you to prove it,” Skye said, tossing the Vance folder onto the bed. “And I think I know why.”
Lucian opened the folder and scanned the first page. His jaw tightened.
“You know about this?” Skye asked.
“The Legacy Key.” Lucian sighed. “Yes. My father told me stories about it, but I thought it was a myth — a bedtime story about a magic switch that could save the world.”
“It’s real,” Skye said. “And Silas thinks you have a piece of it. He doesn’t know we secured the shipment in the Oracle vault. He thinks you’re hiding it personally.”
ѕ𝘁o𝗿i𝗲𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝘶 𝗐о𝗇’𝗍 pu𝗍 𝖽𝗼𝗐𝘯 𝘰ո 𝘨𝗮𝘭𝗻o𝘷𝗲𝘭𝘀.𝘤𝘰𝘮
“I don’t,” Lucian said, pushing himself to his feet with a wince. “But if he thinks I do, he’ll tear this city apart looking for it.”
The lights in the safe house flickered and died.
“They’re here,” Alistair shouted from the other room.
A crash of glass. Gunfire.
“Get down!” Lucian threw Skye to the floor, covering her with his body as bullets shredded the window above them.
“We’re compromised!” Alistair yelled, firing back into the darkness. “Felix! Status!”
The earpiece crackled with static. “Can’t… signal… jammed…” Felix’s voice was barely audible through the interference.
“They cut the hardline!” Alistair shouted.
“Back door!” Lucian pulled Skye upright. “Go! I’ll hold them off!”
“No!” Skye grabbed his arm. “We leave together!”
“He wants me!” Lucian shoved her toward Alistair. “Go! Save the network!”
Alistair seized her and dragged her toward the rear exit. Skye looked back. Lucian stood at the center of the room, a pistol in each hand, waiting for the door to breach.
“Lucian!” Skye screamed.
The door exploded inward. Flashbangs turned the world white.
Alistair kicked the back door open and they tumbled out into the wet grass, sprinting hard for the tree line. Behind them, the safe house erupted in flames.
They didn’t stop running until they reached the old logging road. They bent double, gasping, their lungs on fire.
“He’s gone,” Skye whispered, staring at the orange glow visible through the trees.
“No,” Alistair said, gripping his rifle. “They didn’t kill him. If they wanted him dead, they would have bombed the place. They took him.”
“To the Graves Manor,” Skye realized. “To find the Key.”
She pulled out her phone. The screen was smashed.
“We’re on our own,” Alistair said.
Headlights swept over them — blindingly bright in the darkness. An engine roared. Alistair raised his gun and stepped in front of Skye.
The vehicle skidded to a halt mere feet away. A matte black armored SUV. The window rolled down.
Liam Kensington sat in the driver’s seat, looking entirely unruffled despite the chaos.
“You two look like you’ve had a rough night,” Liam drawled.
“How did you find us?” Alistair lowered his gun, still panting.