Rissa’s POV

The city explodes into motion around us.

Mark’s hand tightens around my wrist as we sprint down the narrow street. Tourists scatter out of the way, confused by the sudden urgency. Someone shouts behind us. A car horn blares as we cut across an intersection without slowing.

My heart slams hard against my ribs.

The Hunter is already on the phone.

Calling others.

They found us faster than we expected.

“Left,” Mark says sharply.

We turn into a side street lined with old ...