The ravine swallowed us whole.
The air was thick with dust and gunpowder, our descent nothing but frantic scrambles over stone and brush. Bullets cracked overhead, sparks flaring where they struck rock. The Blacklist had us pinned, their floodlights cutting the darkness like blades.
Adrian’s voice carried above the chaos. “Keep moving! Downstream—now!”
I staggered on unsteady legs, lungs burning, the night a blur of smoke and motion. Kael stumbled beside me, one arm slung around Adrian’s shoulders, blood dripping freely from his wound. Every step left a crimson trail.
Nora brought up the rear, blade flashing as she covered our retreat. She didn’t fire her gun once. She didn’t need to—her knife was a silent blur, her strikes brutal and efficient. For every Blacklist operative who lunged
