The ship twirled, rolling over on itself, and shot toward the heart of Neon City.

“Oy!” Starbright squeaked. “Watch the hand!”

Mortified, Robb jerked his mechanical hand away from her rear. “A-apologies!”

Jax banked a hard left as he passed a tall glass building, curving around it, and cut between two traffic lines. Warning sirens blared as he barely missed a commercial vehicle and skimmed over the crowded streets below. People in ponchos and damp capes looked up as they swirled past.

The silver skysailer followed swiftly.

From afar, Neon City looked like a mountain of glass buildings covered in neon lights, the mist surrounding it making it glow like some otherworldly haven. It would be a fun place if it weren’t for the smell of dampness and smoke and poverty that permeated the streets. Most of its residents got by illegally—selling black-market wares, or living off cheated winnings from the gambling rings beneath the city itself.

Every time he flew one way, the Messier skysailer would match him. He couldn’t shake the stupid craft no matter what he did. He could keep dodging in and out of buildings all day long, but he was more afraid of the Messier ship calling for backup.

“Are you done yet?” he shouted at her.

“Gimme a sec!” she cried. “I’m not the Goddess here.”

The skysailer began to whine as it overheated, its trail of white vapors growing increasingly gray. And still the silver Messier skysailer had no problem following.

Fine.

Fine.

If that’s how the HIVE wanted to play, he’d play.

Goddess grant me a steady hand—and please ignore ma’alor’s luck, he added as he drove the skysailer into the sky again and cut toward a cluster of buildings that stood so closely together it looked like nothing could squeeze between them.

Robb looked up long enough to see exactly where they were heading.

“Jax,” he warned.

He eased himself back and loosened his grip on the controls. The buildings came closer. They were commercial high-rises. Ironblood-owned—Malachite, it seemed. Or maybe Obsidia. Whoever it was, he hoped they had insurance.

“Jax, don’t—Jax—”

Closer. Closer still.

“JAX—”

He tapped the controls, and the skysailer tilted onto its side and eased through a crack between the buildings. One moment there was sky, and the next there was steel and glass, and they were between them. The silver skysailer tried to bank up, but it was too late. It exploded into the glass tower, sending shrapnel spiraling down into the city center.

As they swirled out on the other side of the buildings, Jax glanced behind him one last time to make sure they were gone, then pumped his fist into the air. “And boom!”

In reply, Robb let go of the hacker’s legs, his face so pale he looked like a corpse. “I’m going to puke.”

The Metal, still perched in the backseat, one leg crossed over the other, applauded. “There was only a twenty-three-point-four percent chance of us surviving that. Congratulations, we are alive.”