The Sterling library was a mess. It smelled like something was burning and old books were everywhere. Water was pouring in through the roof making a big puddle around the blackened furniture.Mikhail and I were moving quietly through the wreckage. We were tied together with a silver chain so we had to be careful not to trip each other up. It was like we were two animals connected by a leash.We had to work to avoid falling. Every step was an agreement. We were like two people dancing. We were not dancing we were trying to survive."There " Mikhail said, his hand tightening on my arm as we looked around a column.In the middle of the room under a light was Silas. He was dressed in a suit but it was torn and his white shirt was stained with blood and ash. The woman who looked like me was standing in front of him. She had a scar on her neck that looked like a bolt of lightning.Between them a big vent in the floor was open. The metal cover was lying on the side."Silas " I said, without

The basement smelled bad. It wasn't the smell of rot. It felt like it.Every breath I took was heavy with the air from the broken wall and the sharp smell of a trap. A strong light shone on us, blinding and harsh.. When you spend your life looking through a lens your eyes learn to see the shadows even when the light is trying to hurt you.I didn't look at the rifle barrels. I looked past them.To the left of the steel chair clinging to a concrete pillar was the old electrical vaults main breaker box. It was a thing from when the mansion was first built humming a low dangerous sound that vibrated through my boots. A thick rusty pipe ran down the wall beside it loosened by the collapseMikhail felt me move before I did. The silver cuff hurt my skin. The chain between us went tight. A signal to him."Mikhail " I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Lets break the glass."I didn't wait for the guards to react. I dropped my weight. Kicked the loose pipe with all my might.The rusty bracket

The air outside the bunker smelled like ozone and rain. It was a shock that made my lungs feel alive again. My left arm felt dead. The skin under the silver cuff was blistered and raw from the thousands of volts that had just gone through us.. The chain that connected me to Elara was still tight. We crawled out of the collapsed coal chute like two ghosts escaping a tomb. Our knees sank into the mud on the New York cliffside."Can you stand?" I asked, my teeth chattering uncontrollably as the freezing rain hit my face.Elara didn't answer with words. She pulled on the chain using my shoulder to drag herself up. Her eyes were wild reflecting the storm.. There was a fierce stubborn survival instinct burning behind them. "Anthony is behind us " she whispered. Her voice was raw from her uncles grip. ". If he has the Bulls with him they won't stop until Elaras story is cleaned up."Before I could reply the sky above us tore open. It wasn't lightning. It was a artificial sun that appeared ou

The sea almost took my life the electrical shock tried to stop my heart and the snipers bullet broke the chain that tied me to her.. I was still alive.Every move I made hurt like crazy. I pulled myself up onto a rock my left arm hanging limp the broken handcuff scraping against the wet stone. I did not care about the pain. My eyes scanned the darkness until I found her. She was pressed against the cliff shivering, holding a piece of slate like a weapon.She looked at me her eyes reflecting the light from the helicopter above. We were like two pieces that did not fit together anymore.I tried to speak to tell her that the Vultures bullet had not won. The words got stuck in my throat.A small red light appeared on my forehead.The laser sight moved a little on my skin then stopped, becoming a point of fire. I froze. Elaras breath caught, her hand dropping the slate as she saw the light. It was not coming from the helicopter. It was coming from the top of the cliff.Suddenly I heard sta

​The climb up was slow and hard. The storm was brutal hitting us with freezing rain that stung my neck. My left arm was useless a weight with dead nerves and burned muscle but my right hand still held Elara’s tight.​We went up a tricky path winding from the black cove our boots slipping on mud and loose rocks. Every step was agony, a shared rhythm of pulling and bracing. The broken silver cuffs we still wore—jagged at the wrists—clinked against the stone, a steady beat counting down the time we had left.​When we finally reached the top the estate looked like a war zone.​The main house was a blackened smoking ruin its big windows shattered, spewing gray smoke into the rainy sky.. It was the conservatory to the east that caught our attention. The glass dome had partly collapsed from the helicopter crash the remaining panes reflecting the orange glow of the burning wreckage in the sea​Standing in the ruined greenhouse, surrounded by glass and exotic plants that were quickly dying in