Catalyst Page 0,71

his brow. It looked like he had a long night as well. Cole shrugged, like it was nothing, "Somehow I ended up in charge of the vamp's blood bank - all of them. Cassie wouldn't leave anyone behind." Anger flashed across his eyes as he thought of Brent, but he pushed the thought away. Cole never thought he'd be doing this. "So, I'm trying to find a way out that won't get the rest of them slaughtered on sight. It's not like they're the most athletic group." Cole jerked his thumb back the way Kahli had come. "Where does this lead?"

"The garden at the South wall," she said quickly, "but there are vamps looking for me in the hills if you go that way." Everyone was looking for her.

Cole pressed his lips together tightly and swore. After a moment, he looked at Kahli and told her, "The King knows you're following him." He told her because he didn't know what else to do, what else to say. Cole lifted his hand to his face and smeared the blood from his cheek. It mingled with the sweat and made a scarlet arc on his cheek. Cole could still feel the sticky warmth sliding down his face where Kahli cut him. He lifted his fingers away, the tips red with blood, "You could have killed me, you know."

"I seriously doubt it," she muttered. Kahli learned Cole was strong during the Purging, but up until that moment, she had no idea that he knew how to fight, too. Holding up her hand, she said, "You practically tore my arm off." Blood dripped down her white sleeve, wrapping around her arm like red ribbon. Kahli was so tense. They both stared at each other for a moment. "Is Cassie okay?"

"She is," he replied, still angry, "no thanks to you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you messed up everything, for everyone. If I don't get them out of here tonight, they all die." He pointed behind him. Every muscle in his body was corded tight, ready to pop. "It might be too late already. They'll be executed if the Queen is killed." Cole's voice dripped with disdain. "This is your fault."

Kahli wanted to punch him again. Instead she tried to push past him, "I don't have time for this," but he stepped in front of her.

"You can't go that way. You're walking into a trap. You'll get yourself killed and Cassie won't have time to get the others out of the palace." He folded his arms, refusing to let her pass.

"Move, Cole." She commanded, stepping closer to him, expecting him to back away.

"Over my dead body," he said it with complete certainty.

Kahli gnashed her teeth at him, growling, "As much fun as that would be, I can't kill Cassie's brother. Now move or I'll make you."

Cole didn't respond. He stood there in the tunnel, blocking her path into the palace, arms folded firmly across his chest. His brown eyes were narrowed to slits, "Make me."

Kahli screamed and threw her shoulder into Cole's stomach. Cole took the hit, doubling over and spinning to alleviate the blow. Kahli used her momentum to push past him, and nearly did, but Cole reached out and grabbed her wrist. His bloody fingers wrapped around the exposed skin between her glove and her sleeve. That's when it happened. Kahli screamed, her wrist burning like her skin was on fire. Cole gasped, flinging her wrist from him like she was poison. They both gulped air as they swore. Cole looked at the palm of his hands, his eyes widening, as Kahli looked down at her wrist.

The remains of the Section 8 runes were gone, burned away. The pale white scar from the wolf's fang zigzagged across her smooth skin like a bolt of lightning. And as she stared, something else began to appear. Under her skin, a line spread slowly, burning bright. It was like the blood runes on Will's chest, how they appeared under her fingers when she touched him. A flaming pattern formed, spinning in slow circles, and lifted to the surface, burning the mark into her skin. Kahli clutched her arm, trying to stop the scalding pain. When she lifted her gaze, she saw Cole grasping his wrist, looking at his palm like he wanted to cut it off.

Tilting his head back, he pressed his eyes closed. Kahli could see something branded on his palm, the bright red lines still glowing like wisps of a flame. It was her