Page 144 of Blood & Throttle
I’ve got more important things to handle.
Sin groans weakly against me, and I tighten my arm around her, rage flickering hotter than the pit lights burning around us. I look at Jace again—still watching, still breathing. Kane’s little puppet. Untouchable.
For now.
I bare my teeth and spit blood to the ground.
Let him grin and pretend he’s already won.
Because next time?
I’m not crossing that finish line until he’s dead at my fucking feet.
I’m focused on her.
The secondwe hit the garage, I kill the engine and slide off the bike, tearing my helmet off. “Get Maggie,” I growl into the comms but she’s already there.
Maggie rushes over, peeling Sin off the bike straps. “Jesus,” she mutters, grabbing a small vial from her kit. “Hang on, sweetheart.” She snaps it under Sin’s nose. The reaction’s instant—Sin jolts, coughing and swearing as she blinks herself back to life.
“Shit—fuck,” she groans, voice hoarse. “What the hell hit me?”
“Hallucinogenic gas,” Maggie says calmly. “You’ll be fine. Just gotta breathe real air again.”
Sin blinks up at me, eyes still glassy. “Was it bad?”
I crouch beside her, brushing hair off her face. “You scared the shit out of me.”
She gives a dry laugh. “Can’t remember the last time I was that stoned. Maybe that one night at the docks… or the fire escape… or—”
“You’re not funny.”
“Tell that to the hallucination of your mom that kept yelling at me mid-race.”
I stare. “My mom?”
“Yep.” She grins, tired but smug. “Same scowl. Same growl. Arms crossed, jaw clenched like she was about to throw a flip-flop across the afterlife.”
Despite myself, I bark a short laugh. “Never told you shit about my mom.”
“Didn’t have to. That woman had ‘raised a demon’ written all over her. It was the posture.”
“Posture?”
“Yeah. She stood like she invented disappointment.”
Maggie snorts again and walks off muttering something about both of us being incurable.
I turn back to Sin. “Get your fucking coat, stray.”
She blinks at me. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Doctor’s orders.” My tone softens just a little. “You need air, not more toxic exhaust fumes.”
She studies me, then gives a small nod. “Are you sneaking me out?”
“Already told you you’re my fucking problem, didn’t I? That means, if you need fresh fucking air, it’s my job to make sure you get it, so let’s fucking go.”
“You said that like it’s a burden.”
