The Blackwell Claim
Kan said as they tore out onto the street, the neon lights of the Sopttyi District blurring into streaks of violet and gold.
"Obviously," Gideon steered the car with one hand, a smirk playing on his lips. "But we aren't giving him back to Lity. Not until we’ve had our turn."
Kan looked at the photo one last time. Timothy Gal looked back, defiant even in a still image. "He’s a rebel. He’s going to fight."
"Good," Kan growled, feeling a dark, heavy ache in his gut. "I hope he tries to run. I want to see him sweat."