Page 99 of Twisted Steel

Alone.

Not because I’m stupid but because Reaper needs to believe I am.

The earbud crackles once.Saint’s voice.“Are you sure about this?”

“No.”

“That’s encouraging.”

I check my gun, my knife, and the broken trauma shear tucked into my pocket.

“No one fires near Harper unless there’s no other choice,” I say.

Savage answers this time.“Copy.”

Raven’s voice cuts in right after.“And Steel?”

“What?”

“If she tells you to stop, you stop.”

My jaw tightens.“I know.”

“I’m not saying it because I doubt you,” she says.“I’m saying it because Reaper will try to make you forget.”

I breathe in deeply.The night smells like rust, rot, and old blood.“He won’t.”

I step out of the dark and walk toward the loading bay.One guard sees me, and he raises his gun.I shoot him in the knee, and his scream echoes off the concrete.

Perfect, let Reaper hear me coming.

The second guard runs away from me, and I let him.

Inside, the slaughterhouse smells like old death.Chains sway overhead, and my boots splash through shallow puddles that could be water but probably aren’t.

A speaker crackles above me somewhere, and Reaper laughs.“Steel.Such a good dog.”I keep walking.“You came alone?”I don’t answer.“You know, I thought she’d make you softer.Turns out she made you predictable.”

A light snaps on at the far end of the kill floor.

Harper is tied to a chair beneath it, and my heart stops.She has blood on her temple, a split lip, and bruising around one cheekbone.Her wrists are bound behind her, but her spine is straight.Her eyes lock on mine across the room.

Not broken.Not begging.Beautifully fucking furious.Relief hits so hard it almost drops me.

Reaper steps out behind her and presses a gun to her head, and everything in me goes still.He is younger than I remember from the one time I saw him.He has a lean build, with a Vulture patch on his cut, and a smile wide enough to look maniacal.

“Stop there,” he says.

I stop, and Harper’s eyes narrow at me.Not with fear but warning.She wants me thinking, even now.

Reaper strokes the barrel along her hair.“She really is something.Bled one of my boys with half a pair of scissors before we got her down.”

Pride moves through me.Shitty timing but still pride.

“That true, medic?”I ask.

Her mouth curves despite the blood.“He had soft hands.”

Reaper’s smile thins, and he presses the gun harder to her temple.“Touching.Here’s how this works.You drop your gun and knife.Then you kneel.Then I decide whether I let her watch you die before I carve her open.”