Excerpt 1:
It burns.

Wisps of smoke fill my mouth as I struggle to inhale, grasping the edges of my lungs until I let out a violent cough. I grope around the charred floor, unable to see, until my fingers brush his warm skin. Asher.

I force my eyes open, the thick smoke clouding them with hot tears. Asher lies beside me, sprawled across the crackling wooden floor. His eyes are dark, as though they’re filled with liquid black ink. He pulses, his jaw clenching as ebony wings slowly, painfully, rupture from his back, tearing through his skin. I reach my hand to grip his arm, avoiding the scattered debris.

“Ash?”

The flames lick up the walls around us to quell their hunger. Asher flinches when he sees me, slowly backing away as though I’m a stranger. Shit. The drugs have started working, which means I’m going to forget him, too. I wipe thick sweat from my face, crawling toward him and clutching his shirt tightly. If he moves, I’ll move with him. It’s dangerous, but I can’t let him go.

Not yet.

“Asher! It’s me!” I shout. “It’s Piper. Please. You know me.” I ignore the threat of his razor-sharp talons and wrap my arms around his wiry body. His scent, a mix of crisp cedar and musk, lets me cling to previous moments of us: his hands on my body, his lips caressing mine, staring at the stars and talking about the universe, our bodies flying high above ground. Moments I can’t forget.

“Please,” I whisper fiercely, “please remember me.” His body trembles, but he fights through it, stopping himself from tossing me aside. Just for a moment, his eyes fade back to their natural light blue, and he grabs my shirt forcefully. He buries his face into my neck like he’s breathing me in for the last time, and we cling to each other as the beams of the building crackle and come apart, sending showers of sparks raining around us.

“Piper,” he whispers. He pushes me back to arm’s length, grunting as he struggles to stay with me. Something stronger, something darker is trying to pull him under, and there’s only so long until he falls into its depths. It won’t be long now.

“Yes?” I reply, gripping his arms so tight I might leave bruises. I can’t lose him here. I won’t accept that this is the end. I look into his eyes, searching for a sign that he’s still my Asher.

That he’s not just some monster.

“I’ll find you again when this is all over,” he says, tracing his fingers over my temples.

“But how? You won’t recognize me, and I won’t recognize you. We’ll be strangers,” I murmur.

His eyes flash with an angry determination. “I would know you, Piper Madden, anywhere, any time of my life. They can try to force you away from me, but I’m not done fighting back. For the first time in my life, I’m actually fighting for something. I will find you,” he says.

We’re rocked backward as the wall explodes from pressure. He holds me tightly to keep me balanced, using his wings for leverage. Gunshots ring out in the distance, and I know it’s only a matter of time before they infiltrate and retrieve us. People I should have been able to trust. It hurts now knowing I never could.

Finally, I can feel the siren’s song of the drug pulling me into its shallow haze. Warmth floods my body as my memories are dragged just out of reach. I try to cling to them, but they drift away like petals in the wind. Asher grunts and rolls away from me, grasping his head with his hands, and his wings begin to tremble.

I look around, my head on a swivel as I struggle to stay present. How did we get here?

The moments leading up to this one drop like they’re falling down a staircase one by one.

“Asher!” I shout again, trying to bring him back to me for a little while longer. He pants heavily, willing himself to stand and remain conscious. I want to keep fighting, but I can feel my strength fading. The futility of it all wraps itself around my bones, leeching all hope. This is it.

“Promise me you’ll find me,” I whisper into Asher’s chest. Even though he’s in agony, he strokes my hair, rubs his thumb along my cheek, presses his lips against my neck.

“I promise,” he whispers, over and over, like a mantra. “I promise, I promise, I promise.”

Excerpt 2:
The streets of the Rift are usually bustling, but only the occasional straggler wanders them this
early in the morning. The Holo-sky mirrors a sunrise, the deep violet of night blending with soft
pinks and oranges. The underground cities used to be dark all the time, the steel pipes and beams
that protect us from the surface radiation casting the survivors of the war in darkness.

After a few years in our bunker civilization, the people began to protest to the Corp. Too
many taxpayers were falling into the hole of depression, so they made us a sun. There are no real
plants or wild animals down here, just dirty cobblestone streets and buildings plastered with ads
and graffiti.

The Rift is even worse. Anyone this far east of Central has a secret, whether that’s a
criminal record or running with a gang or being part of the fabled Valhalla resistance. I live in the
Rift because it’s the only place I can stay out of the Corp’s reach without trying to live above
ground. I’m not exactly hoping to spend my days wearing a Rad-Mask and taking tablets every
morning, nor do I want to go to sleep wondering if every night will be my last.

Rupert Elder, the president of the Corp, wouldn’t just let one of his Ace Hunters out of
his control. I know they’re looking for me, hell, they’re probably already watching me, just
waiting for their chance. My goal is to keep that eventuality as far away as possible. For
whatever reason, Rupert’s keeping his distance, and I’m going to take advantage for as long as I
can.
I hop on a streetcar, gripping the metal bar as the train lurches forward. Ads are plastered
above the seats: Elder Corp keeps you safe from the Harpy invasion. Only underground can you
escape the threat of radiation; Elder Corp makes this possible. It goes on. Every facet of my life
is filled with reminders that I’ll never be free. The train unloads at each stop, adding more, and I
share every block with a new cluster of residents. Most are loudly painted with colorful hair,
uneven cuts, tattoos on hands and faces, and metal piercings. The rest are low-key—swathed in
dark, neutral fabrics, faces hidden and eyes on the sticky floor.

My stop is still a few blocks away, but the train isn’t moving fast enough. I can feel the
weight of dread pressing in on me, the echoes of my past threatening to swallow me whole. I dip
my face into my bag and quickly swallow a Ten. I’m not usually a Tenner, but today seems as
good a day as any to just let it all go. Ten minutes and the outside world fades away. Ten minutes
and my life is no longer filled with stress and repressed emotion. There’s nothing but the present,
nothing but now, and I can’t deny how much of a relief it is.

The streetcar finally reaches my stop, and I stand by the back doors until they swing
open. Spotting my chance, I rush across the street, avoiding the odd hover car speeding along.
My head grows foggy as I trudge toward my building, my mind filling with the voices of ghosts I
wish would stay dead. My past as a Hunter, that rare blood type that had me recruited as a child
to serve as a soldier, and David, always David.

People on the street stare at me as I float by, and I can’t help but wonder if they know
who I am and what I’ve done. What is it that they whisper under their breath or scroll through
their minds? Ex-Corp waster? Murderer?

It wasn’t your fault, my inner self growls, but even I can’t convince myself of this. It was
my fault. My fault that David’s dead. My fault that my family’s been torn apart. I can still see his
body withering away, his eyes pleading, whispering unheard words. STOP IT! I scream inwardly.
I take a deep breath and try to force the image away, but when I close my eyes, it’s like he’s
standing before me. I can smell his rich cologne, can feel his hand as he brushes my hair from
my face in the way only brothers can.

I open my eyes, and we’re in our place at the vacant Fresh-Air Zone outside Central,
lying flat on our backs and staring at the stars. The cool breeze wafts the tang of fresh grass and
clean air into my nose. This was where David always took me when things were rough or we’d
just done a big job and still had blood staining our hands.

It was a place to let go of everything in the real world, but I never would have guessed
that this place, our place, would be where he’d eventually die.