He found the dealer, a wizened man named Jakes who had no pupils, only twin voids. “More,” Kaelen said, sliding a stolen data-slate across the table.
The liquid inside the barrel was the color of a forgotten sunset—amber, with veins of electric blue that swirled like captive lightning. It wasn’t heroin. It wasn’t meth. It was Trikker Crack . trikker crack
And they saw him back.
Jakes shrugged—the gesture of a man who had sold a thousand tickets to hell. He handed over a vial of sunset-and-lightning. “Your tenth is free. Courtesy of the house.” He found the dealer, a wizened man named