“—know what we want,” a man was saying. It was the same man we’d pulled our guns on earlier. “Stop playing this game.”

“I have no idea what you people want. If you’ll just tell me—”

An oomph. A yowl of pain and a shout. Then running footfalls and “Damn it. Get her back. Now!”

I looked at Gabriel. His gaze went to my arm.

“It stopped bleeding,” I said. “I just want to keep an eye on her. I’m not racing to her rescue.”

“Good. Remember that.”

We set out at a jog. Aunika had started across a railroad bridge, hunched over, visible only as a shape moving against the fog. “Keep going, Aunika,” I murmured. “Don’t slow down and—”

A clang. Then an oath echoed through the still night. Aunika disappeared onto the fog-shrouded bridge just as two shapes ran onto it after her. I bounced on the balls of my feet, straining to see, but the figures had vanished into the fog.

“Olivia …” Gabriel said.

“I’m just going to get close enough so I can hear her get safely across.”

He muttered something but didn’t try to stop me. We jogged to the bridge. I grabbed a girder and hauled myself up, wincing at the pain in my arm. Gabriel’s hand closed around my calf.

“Two more beams,” he said, though I hadn’t uttered a word. “Keep your attention on your path, please.”

I started to climb. At a grunt from behind me, I knew he’d told me to keep my eyes forward mostly because he didn’t want me watching him climb, lest it not be as effortless as he’d like.

I went exactly two more girders. I could still hear the thump-thump-thump of footfalls above, and with my eyes shut, I could imagine a train instead, chugging through the fog, those on the bridge feeling the vibration first, then hearing the thumping before the light pierces the haze and they realize there’s no way to go but down.

A thud beside me, along with the sound of heavy breathing, partially stifled. Gabriel was there, looking up at the bridge.

“The game’s afoot?” I said. And he laughed. It was barely more than a chuckle, but it’d been so long since I’d heard even that. When Gabriel laughs, I feel it, a warmth and joy as if I’ve accomplished something incredible.

“One more,” he said.

We climbed two. Above us, one pair of running footfalls slowed. Gabriel and I hung there, nearly at the top, the fog slipping and sliding around us like a living thing, masking all but the metal under our hands.

Gabriel had a grip on the next beam and had already started pulling himself up, his gaze fixed on the bridge. Our nature might not be to protect the innocent, but it is to do this—to get answers, not hide in shadows until the danger passes.

Also, we were climbing an abandoned railroad bridge on a foggy night. To deny ourselves the adventure seemed almost criminal.

When Gabriel paused on the next beam, I passed him. Then I paused, and he passed me, and we continued like that, each wordlessly making sure the other was equally invested.

I got to the top, and reached to help him, but he pretended not to see my hand and stifled a grunt as he heaved himself up.

We crouched, looking out over the fog-veiled bridge. The edges of the fog were fine lace, and over my shoulder I could see the building tops. As I crept forward, though, the fog thickened, and soon I couldn’t even see Gabriel. I reached out, tapping him. He moved closer.

He leaned to my ear and whispered, “Stay close,” and then gripped my upper arm as we started out. I could make out the basic shape of the bridge, enough to know I couldn’t accidentally wander off the edge. If I veered a little, my shoe knocked against the metal rail. Yet that didn’t change the fact that I was fifty feet over water on a very narrow fog-shrouded bridge.

I discovered exactly how unsafe this was when I caught a noise ahead and stumbled against the side rail hard enough that I broke Gabriel’s light grip.

He grabbed for me; I grabbed back. I caught his hand and that made him jump. I started to pull away, but he gripped my hand, murmuring, “No, this is safer.”

Then a metallic clang echoed. A yelp, too high-pitched to tell if it was male or female. We picked up speed. Ahead we could hear what sounded like a fight, only the loudest sounds rising over the wind and water. Then a thud. A shout. And a man’s scream, a drawn-out scream, growing steadily softer until—

The scream ended in a splash, and Gabriel gripped my hand tight enough to hurt as we listened. No sounds came from below. None from up here, either.

Then we felt something, the pounding of footfalls reverberating through the bridge, running fast.

As soon as I saw Gabriel’s eyes, I knew there was no question of turning back. His target lay ahead, and he would not abandon it.

We resumed walking. Gabriel loosened his grip on my hand and I waited for him to drop it, but he only adjusted, lacing his fingers with mine. I looked over at him, that profile so achingly familiar, from the set of his jaw to those unnaturally pale eyes. The wind eddied around us, sending his dark hair tumbling over his forehead, and he pushed it back with his free hand, his lips tightening, annoyed by such a petty distraction.

I can’t quit you. I thought I’d put all that aside and made my choice, but all it takes is a walk across a railroad bridge in the dark and the fog. There’s not a single twinge of romance here. It doesn’t matter. I look at you, and all I think is, I want this. Whatever this is. I want it so bad.

I tried to loosen my grip on his hand, and he looked over in alarm, his fingers tightening fast, as if I’d tried to leap over the edge.