I jerked awake with a gasp. Next to me, a body jolted and on the other side, somebody swore. My heart pounded in my throat, and it took me a few seconds to remember where the hell I was. The sun had sunk below the trees, bathing the sky in orange streaks. The rover had stopped, but I still couldn’t see anything but trees. The wide-open space of the desert often made me feel exposed, but here, swallowed by trees, I felt trapped.
“Jumpy little thing,” Griz muttered and I flushed.
Mac and Jax hopped out as the second rover pulled up beside us.
Griz grabbed my arm and pulled me out, gripping tighter as I swayed a little. Gods, I hoped this dizziness passed soon. The second rover’s crew unloaded beside us, two women and one other man. The driver—a woman with long black hair pulled back into a ponytail—stared me down with a look of pure hatred in her bloodshot eyes. I took an involuntary step backward, treading on Griz’s foot.
“Bring her over here,” Trey called, pulling a battered first aid kit from the back of the rover.
Griz pulled me over to where Trey set the kit on the hood of the rover, standing in the headlight. The woman turned away and began unloading supplies. Unease swirled in my stomach. Griz dropped my arm, standing next to me with his massive arms crossed while I tried to remember if I’d ever seen that woman before.
“Come sit down and unbutton your shirt so I can take a look at that wound on your shoulder,” Trey said, gesturing toward a large rock.
All thoughts of the woman went straight out of my head.
“It’s just a scratch,” I snapped, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice. I gripped the collar of my shirt, pulling it tighter across my chest like it might somehow protect me and trying to hide my wince of pain from doing so.
“Look, Bones, I’m not trying to make a move on you,” Trey said patiently, “but that’s not just a scratch. Your shirt is wet, which means it’s still fuckin’ bleeding. That wound needs to be cleaned and maybe stitched. You know that.”
I glared at him, heat rising in my face. “I can do it myself.”
“You can’t even see it. C’mon. You want Griz to sit on you?” A smile quirked at the corner of Trey’s mouth. “Because we can do this the hard way.”
He rolled up his sleeves and in the bright light of the headlights, I caught a glimpse of the bite I’d given him. My teeth marks were stamped onto his skin as a new pink scar.
Griz took a step forward and my entire body tensed. I didn’t understand why they were making such a big deal out of a stupid wound. They were trying to intimidate me, and they were succeeding. When he took a second step, I panicked. I took off like a terrified rabbit, but apparently Griz anticipated that. He lunged and caught my arm, jerking me to a stop. The rest of the group went quiet, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on us. My heart pounded and my stomach churned with a swell of fear. I kept my eyes on the ground. I wasn’t sure what they meant by the hard way, but maybe if I made it difficult enough they’d give up. Surely it wouldn’t be worth the trouble, right?
Trey must’ve signaled to everyone somehow because they all went back to their tasks, ignoring the three of us.
I flinched when Trey reached toward me, and he withdrew his hand. I hated that I did it, that I couldn’t control the way my body reacted. My face burned.
“We’re not gonna hurt you,” Griz murmured next to me, still holding my arm.
“I can do it myself. Just let me do it,” I tried again, hating the desperation leaking into my voice.
“Hey.” Trey’s voice gentled in a way that made my throat tighten. “Bones, look at me.”
“I swear it’s nothin’. Just give me a bandage, and I can take care of it.”
“Bones, c’mon, look at me.”
I lifted my eyes, but I couldn’t quite look Trey in the face, so I stared at his hands instead. He stood a step away, keeping his gestures slow and non-threatening. He had workers’ hands, calloused and rough, but he kept his nails neatly trimmed. The sun had browned his skin and highlighted the small white scars peppered across his hands. He raised one hand, and I tracked the movement as he tucked his wavy brown hair back behind his ear to keep it out of his face. I met his gaze finally and hated the gentleness that somehow still existed there. His brown eyes, framed with long eyelashes, met mine.
“I know you’ve got little cause to trust us.” Trey pitched his voice low enough just for me to hear. “But I owe you my life, and I swear on that debt I’m not gonna hurt you. That wound is bleeding a lot, and I just want to stitch it up. Will you let me do that?”
“What’ll you do if I don’t?” I tried to sound defiant, but I just sounded scared.
“Keep pestering you until you change your mind.” He smiled.
I didn’t return it and his face grew serious again.
“We aren’t gonna force you, Bones. I was just kidding about Griz sitting on you.”
“I wouldn’t sit on you even if he told me to,” Griz added. “I’d probably break you in half.”
“I’m not the best healer and I sure as hell can’t do what you can do. But I can stitch a wound.” Trey paused a second, then added, “I can’t just do nothin’ when somebody is hurt. You seem like you feel the same way.”
The silence stretched as I stared at him. I knew he meant that moment on the roof when I’d looked into his eyes and decided to heal him instead of running. I didn’t like that he’d somehow seen those thoughts on my face. I could usually hide what I felt better.
“Please, Bones,” Trey added, still in that soft voice. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Maybe he wouldn’t, but a life debt only carried so far, and I wasn’t just afraid of being hurt.
Choose your battles, Wolf snarled.
I swallowed hard and unbuttoned the plaid shirt, my shaking fingers moving fast before I could change my mind. Griz released my arm again as I pulled the shirt off my left shoulder and let it drop, revealing my upper chest and the bloodied tank underneath. I tried to steel myself, but Trey’s low exclamation still made me wince.
“What the fuck?” Anger snapped in his voice, but his hands were gentle as he shifted my flannel over more.
Griz sucked in a sharp breath, and my face burned. In the center of my chest a large, crude “J” had been branded into my flesh. It started at my collarbone and ended just above my breasts, the rough skin raised and an angry red, clearly a semi-recent wound. It was impossible to miss, but then that had been the point.
“Did Juck do this to you?” Trey’s voice dropped to something quiet and dark.
I didn’t answer him, figuring that was pretty fucking obvious. I wished I could just sink into the ground and disappear.
“Does that burn need some kind of treatment?” Griz asked.
His gruff voice sounded gentle, and I flicked my eyes up, surprised. His gaze remained calm and steady, but it looked like actual concern shone there. I glanced at Trey, but he’d turned toward the woods, a muscle in his jaw flexing. I shook my head.
“Does it hurt?” Griz asked.
“Not really,” I lied. It ached all the time, but I didn’t want to admit that.
“How long ago did this happen?” Trey spoke again, his voice rough.
I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Couple weeks.”
A brief silence hung around us.
“Uh.” Trey cleared his throat. “Ok. This gash in your shoulder is gonna need some stitches. Looks like a piece of that shitty roof stabbed you. You want a swig?”
He held out a bottle I numbly took. He unrolled a leather satchel full of basic healer tools. Relief and surprise made me lightheaded. At least he didn’t seem like he would ask any more questions. I took a drink and handed it back, my eyes watering as it burned all the way down.
“I’m gonna pour this over the wound, alright?” Trey waited until I nodded before pouring the amber liquid over my shoulder, catching the excess with a clean rag.
My body jerked in pain. Griz made a sympathetic noise through his teeth. Trey handed me back the bottle again, and I took another large drink as he started stitching me up. He worked confidently like he’d done this a few times before. The alcohol took the edge off, but it still hurt like hell. Griz took the bottle from me as Trey worked, taking a swig himself.
After Trey tied the stitches off, I shrugged my flannel back on as quickly as I could, buttoning it all the way up to my chin. Relief swept over me, but then Griz handed Trey a clean rag and a fresh bottle of water.
“Now I’m just gonna clean this up.” Trey gestured toward the gash in my head as he poured the water on the rag.
I tensed again as he rested a hand on my temple, holding my head still as he cleaned the dried blood off.
“Looks like it’s scabbed over pretty good. Shouldn’t need stitches,” Trey mused as he dabbed at the ugly gash.
“What happened there?” Griz asked, taking another drink of alcohol.
When I didn’t answer, Trey’s eyes flicked to mine again. “What happened here?” he repeated.
“The mercs,” I muttered.
“This is a deep gash, and it bled a lot.” Trey gently wiped the rag down the side of my face where I could feel stiff dried blood coating my skin. “You’re fuckin’ covered in blood. They didn’t even try to patch you up?”
I fought the urge to snap something about how most people didn’t give a shit.
“Did they hit you with something?” Griz pressed.
“Obviously,” I muttered.
Griz raised an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
“The fuck were they gonna do if you bled to death?” Trey asked, anger coating his voice again.
“Well I didn’t,” I said, hoping they got the message that I did not want to talk about this.
“How long were you in that safe?” Griz asked.
“I dunno.”
“Fuckin’ mercs,” Trey muttered.
Well, we could agree on that at least.
“Alright. Let me see your hands.” Trey tucked the bottle under his arm and held his hands out, palms up.
I hesitated before putting my hand in his. He gripped my hands, tilting them to catch the light of the headlight and leaning close to examine my shredded palms.
“Shit,” he murmured. “You did a number on these. You better take another drink ’cause I’m gonna have to clean these cuts out.”
He glanced back up at my face. In the growing dark, I could ignore the other bodies moving just out of sight. Even Griz seemed to fade away from where he stood at my shoulder. Trey’s hands tightened on mine as his eyes shone with something like regret.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and I knew he wasn’t talking about the cuts on my palms. “We had no idea the weapon was a person. We never would’ve done it if we’d known.”
I jerked my hands away, feeling cold.
“I can clean these myself,” I snapped, averting my gaze.
For the first time, he didn’t argue. He just handed me the bottle of alcohol. I gulped down another mouthful and then gritted my teeth and poured the alcohol over the slices, relishing the burning pain. As I set the bottle down, my eyes smarting, Trey moved in again, wrapping my hand in a clean bandage before I could protest. Then he paused for a moment, pushing my sleeve up to look at the welts on my wrists.
“Gods, those ties were tight,” he muttered, continuing the bandage up my wrist. As he pushed my sleeve up further to tie it off, dark bruises came into view, and that muscle in his jaw started flexing again.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Griz examined the bruises on my arm too.
“No.”
The two of them exchanged a look, but Trey just grabbed the bottle and held his hand out. “I’ll do your other hand.”
I gave him my other hand, swearing through my teeth as he poured the alcohol over the exposed wounds.
By the time he finished, the camp had been set up. Jax had cooked something in a small fire and the smell made my mouth water. Trey cleaned up the supplies and Griz brought me over to the fire, gripping my arm a little more gently. He gestured for me to sit and then took a seat on my left as I glanced around. Across the fire from me sat the woman from before. I met her gaze to find her still glaring at me with hatred. I dropped my eyes, feeling my heart rate pick up. Did I know her? Had I met her before? I wracked my brain but came up empty.
Griz handed me a tin plate with some steaming meat and potatoes on it. I fumbled to grip it with my bandaged hands, and then nearly dropped the whole thing when the woman across the fire erupted.
“So that’s it?” she snarled, leaping to her feet and stabbing a finger in my direction. “We’re just gonna stitch her up and feed her like nothing happened?”
“Sit down, Lana,” Griz snapped.
“Sit down, Lana?” she parroted back at him, her voice rising. “My brother is dead and that’s all you have to say?”
Dread fell over me like a thick blanket.
“We’ll have time to grieve once we get home.” Griz’s voice gentled. “Right now we gotta follow orders.”
“Our orders were not to save this bitch,” Lana raged, tears glimmering in her eyes. “We were supposed to bring back the weapon—”
“She is the weapon,” Trey interrupted from a few feet away.
In the silence, everyone stared at me, and I stared at the crackling fire.
“No,” Lana snarled, moving suddenly.
My gaze shot up to her. She’d drawn a gun and pointed it straight at me.
“We couldn’t even bring his body back! I had to leave my brother on the fuckin’ roof, with the fuckin’ mercs! I can’t even bury him. And it’s her fuckin’ fault.”
“Lana!” Trey held out a hand. “Put the gun down.”
“Blood for blood.” Lana’s hands didn’t shake, but her voice did.
I stared up at the gun, but I couldn’t deny that I felt as much relief as I did fear. Wolf snarled, but gods, I was just so damn tired. Then Mac appeared behind Lana, his gun pressed against the back of her head.
“Put it down,” Mac ordered, all scary quiet as his eyes sparked in the firelight. “We’re seein’ this through.”
Lana bared her teeth at me like a wildcat. Tears shone in her eyes, but finally, she lowered the gun. Mac took it from her and then Trey joined as they marched her back behind the rover. In the silence, I waited in resigned misery to hear the gunshot signaling her execution, but it never came.
“Eat,” Griz said next to me.
The food smelled amazing, but it’d been a long time since I ate actual food. I ate as much as I could, stopping when my stomach roiled. I set the plate on the ground by my feet and wrapped my arms around myself.
Mac, Trey, and Lana returned after the fire had died down. Lana still glared at me with glittering hatred, but she stayed silent. Mac and Trey resumed eating like nothing had happened. I eyed them, feeling curious despite my best efforts. If anybody had challenged Juck like that, they’d have been dead before they got a handful of words out. Or just close to dead so Juck could have some fun. The small bit of meat and potatoes I’d eaten turned to rocks in my stomach. My fingers touched the scar on my chest.
“Was he shot by the mercs?” I asked Griz.
Griz glanced at me, surprised. “Yeah.”
I let the weight of that sink over me. If I hadn’t run, her brother would probably still be alive. Blood for blood. I thought of Wolf and a chill ran down my spine.
“That’s Raven on Lana’s left,” Griz added, nodding toward the other girl on their crew. She had long black hair on one half of her head and a shaved scalp on the other side. She continued to ignore me, and I didn’t mind.
“Sam is the one over by the kid.” Sam had close-cut blond hair and a short beard. He appeared to be teasing Jax who scowled at him.
I gave a brief nod, and Griz lapsed into silence again. He cleaned his plate and then eyed my still full plate.
“You should eat more.”
I shook my head. “I’m done. You can have the rest.”
He eyed me for a few seconds, but then shrugged and took my plate and dug in. I studied him. He wore a light jacket, but the bulky muscles in his arms showed through the fabric. The dark chocolate brown of his skin glowed in the firelight. There was a soothing calmness to his quiet, steady presence that annoyed me. I didn’t want to feel calm, nothing about this should make me feel calm.
Once Mac and Trey had finished eating, everyone moved to their bedrolls. Griz pulled me up by the arm and led me behind a tree to relieve my bladder. I fumbled with my pants, but Griz kept his gaze elsewhere. When we returned to camp, he paused, looking at Mac.
“She can use Exo’s bedroll,” Mac said.
Rage flashed across Lana’s face. Exo must’ve been her brother. She opened her mouth but before she could speak, I did.
“No. I don’t need…no.”
Mac stared at me hard, then shrugged. Lana just turned her back and climbed into her bedroll next to Raven. The other woman put her arm around Lana’s shoulders while fixing me with a glare. Mac came and took my arm from Griz, his grip painfully tight. He brought me back to the rover and told me to climb in. After I climbed into the backseat and sat, he took my right arm and zip tied my bandaged wrist to the metal bar of the rover. Trey came up and watched him, a frown on his face.
“This really necessary?” Trey asked, low.
“I’m not taking any more chances,” Mac snapped back. “And you aren’t either.”
Pain and guilt flashed across Trey's face, and he didn't argue. I tried to pretend I wasn't paying careful attention. The tension between the two of them pulsed like a live wire. Trey was the weak link, the one who cared just a little too much. If I could use that, maybe I still had a chance. Mac finished tightening the zip tie, tight enough that I couldn't slip my bandaged hand free and strode back toward the fire. The welts on my wrist burned. Trey seemed to hesitate.
“Trey?” I whispered, letting a tremor into my voice.
He moved closer to the rover and looked at me with wary eyes.
“I—”
“What’s up, Bones?”
“I’m sorry. About Exo,” I whispered.
Trey stayed silent, and I had to fight the urge to glance up at his face. I willed my eyes to fill with tears and let them fall. He put a hand on my knee, and I managed to keep from flinching. When I glanced up through the tears, his face had softened.
“It’s not your fault,” he said.
I watched him as the tears continued to fall from my eyes, trying to pick the best course of action.
Careful. I heard Wolf’s stern voice. Don’t overdo it.
The alcohol warming my blood gave me courage, so I started mumbling too quiet for him to hear. His brow furrowed as he tried to make it out. I let out a small sob and kept going. He stepped closer and leaned into the rover, trying to hear me.
“—should have let her shoot me. Why—”
His fingers snaked around my free wrist, catching my hand that was attempting to pull the knife out of the holster on his belt.
My gaze snapped to his face, fear tightening in my gut. His eyes were sharp, but he looked amused.
“Like I said, I owe you my life,” he said, refusing to release my wrist, even as I tried to jerk free. “So I’m gonna pretend you weren’t just trying to steal my knife.”
I dropped the act, swearing at him through my teeth. He quirked a half smile and let go of my wrist, stepping back out of reach. I glared at him, wishing again I’d left him to die on the rooftop.
“Night, Bones,” he called as he walked away, leaving me alone in the dark.
The night was cold and long. I tried to get my hand free for hours, even going so far as to debate dislocating my thumb to see if I could slip out of the zip tie, but I didn't think the angle would work. So instead, I just fucked up the bandage and rubbed even more of the skin on my wrist raw as I jerked against the tie. I didn't dare sleep. Even with a rotating guard, I didn't trust these people. Sure they needed me alive, but I knew far too well what sort of pain could be inflicted without killing.
By the time the sun rose, my teeth were chattering, and my eyelids felt so heavy. When Griz came to cut me free, he noted my bloodied wrist and then glared at me. I glared right back.
“C’mon,” he snapped after he cut through the tie, “climb out.”
My numb and stiff legs gave out on me as I tried to obey. He grabbed my arm, keeping me from falling out on my face, and grumbled to himself. The camp bustled with activity, everyone packing up to leave. Griz stuck me by the dying fire.
“Gimme your wrist.” He glared. “I’ll fix the bandage.”
Too tired to argue, I gave it to him. He re-wrapped the bandage as I shivered. Lana seemed to be ignoring me today. I wished I could do the same, but I didn’t trust her. I kept an eye on her as she helped load up the rovers and nearly jumped out of my skin when someone draped a jacket across my shoulders. Trey didn’t stop to see if I kept it, he just moved past and climbed into the rover to start it. I wanted to throw it at him, but I knew better than to give up the warmth out of spite. So I pulled it on, checking the pockets and scowling when I found them empty.
Too soon, Griz took me by the elbow and brought me back to the rover. I climbed in and found myself sandwiched between Griz and Trey again. I ignored them both.
“On your go, Alpha,” a female voice I realized must be Raven crackled on the radio, and the rovers moved out.
Like the previous day, exhaustion pulled at my eyelids. I fought it as long as I could, but it wasn’t long before I blinked, and the sun jumped to the middle of the sky. I squinted at the unending sea of trees, trying to get my bearings. My shivering had eased, and I was slouched over on—
Whatever momentary calm I’d woken with evaporated as I realized I was curled into Trey’s side, my head on his shoulder. I jerked upright, but there was nowhere to go to get some space. Trey turned his head to look at me, but I just folded myself in half again despite the pain in my shoulder from the movement. I stayed that way for a long time, dozing until the rover slowed. I sat upright to see we’d driven up to a metal gate blocking the dirt road. Jax hopped out with a ring of keys, unlocking the gate and shoving it open. The rovers drove through, and Jax locked it behind us before clambering back in. We drove through three more gates like that, and I started feeling queasy. Wherever we were going was well protected, but I couldn’t help feeling like they were locking us in.
We went steadily up, and the trees thinned a little. When we crested a ridge, I caught my first glimpse of the hold nestled in the trees and surrounded by high walls that looked like metal. A massive watchtower sat in the middle. My heart sank. I’d never seen a hold so well protected. It looked like a damn fortress.
“Home sweet home,” Griz said.
“You ready?” Trey asked.
I stole a glance at him, but he was looking at Mac. Mac’s gaze flashed to me in the rear mirror, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. My stomach sank at the tension filling the air. Whatever waited for us at the hold, it wasn’t going to be good. I knew I should give Trey his jacket back, but I found myself clutching it tighter to my body like it might protect me.
“Let’s do this,” Mac replied, his voice tight.
Mac roared up to a metal gate that creaked open. I stole one last desperate glance at the woods before they disappeared behind the huge wall towering over us. The second rover followed close behind, and I heard the metal gate slam shut.
Buildings made of logs, wood, and metal filled the hold. People milled through what looked like a small marketplace. When the rovers drove up, most people stopped to look. A few people approached, an older tall woman leading the way. She had a leather belt over one shoulder that had two holstered pistols in the front and what looked like a giant knife holstered at her hip. Faded tattoos covered her wrinkled and weathered skin, and her grey dreads were pulled back by a scarf. Her eyes studied me, sharp as a hawk. No emotion shone in those eyes, just calculating judgment, and my stomach twisted at how much that look reminded me of Juck. Three men with impressive-looking guns stalked behind her. Most holds I’d encountered had some sort of council of leadership, but this show of force made this hold look more like the desert garrisons run by the violent warlords Juck often worked with.
The rovers came to a halt. Mac stepped out and approached the woman, tipping his head. Trey and Griz climbed down, Griz pulling me out with him. He hauled me a few steps away from the rover and then stopped, his grip tightening on my arm like a warning. Mac spoke to the woman in low tones, and she replied. I couldn’t hear what they said, but the energy seemed to shift toward something ugly. I stared at my feet, waiting, and tried to prepare myself as best I could.
“Bring her,” the woman finally called in a clear, cold voice that made me want to shiver.
Griz jerked me into motion. We filed up to the watchtower, passing through a fortified door. Guards watched us pass, holding automatic weapons that would’ve made Juck—
No. I gritted my teeth. I didn’t have to waste my thoughts on him. Not anymore.
We went down a long circular flight of stone stairs that led to a dingy hallway. The woman and her guards entered a dim room with straw on the floor, but Griz and Trey stopped in the hallway. Mac took my arm from Griz, and the three of them exchanged a look heavy with significance. My heart stumbled into overdrive, but then Mac yanked me forward, leaving Trey and Griz in the hallway as the door swung shut.
The small room smelled of blood and vomit and fear, and my hands started trembling. A single chair stood in the center of the room covered with straps and buckles capable of holding someone down no matter how much they screamed and strained to get free.
“So, Mac,” the woman said, smiling in a way that made my skin crawl, “you promised me your informant was trustworthy. You swore this trip would be worth the cost.”
She paused, but Mac didn’t say a word. I stole a glance at his face. He stared at the woman, standing rigidly like a soldier. An expressionless mask hid whatever emotions he felt, but as he gripped my arm, I could feel both our hearts racing.
“A quiet covert operation to retrieve Juck’s secret weapon.” Her sharp gaze swung to me, and I fought the urge to shrink back. “And what have you brought me? A fortune of gasoline gone, half our supply of ammunition used up in a rooftop firefight, one of my men dead, and a scrawny girl with ‘magic healing powers?’” Her voice dripped with scorn.
“Bones could be a powerful asset,” Mac said. “There’s a reason Juck called her his ‘secret weapon.’”
“How about a demonstration?” The woman clapped her hands together, her smile growing wide again.
My stomach lurched.
“You can give us a demonstration, right, Bones?” The calmness of Mac’s tone clashed with the hardness in his eyes.
I knew it wasn’t a question.
C’mon, Wolf growled in my head. You’re not helpless, dammit!
“Yes,” I got out in a hoarse whisper, fumbling to unwrap my bandaged hands.
The woman’s smile showed all teeth now. She beckoned us forward, and Mac pulled me along with him. I dropped the bandages into the hay and prayed the queasy feeling in my gut wasn’t showing on my face. The woman drew a wicked-looking knife from the holster on her belt and Mac released my arm. Two of her men stepped forward to grab Mac by the arms, holding him still, and my lungs turned to stone. I had a flash of memory back to the baking hot desert, the glint of Juck’s pistol, and the smell of Grip’s blood. The woman continued smiling ear to ear as she raised her arm and slashed Mac’s stomach clean open.
Mac doubled over as much as he could with the men holding his arms. Blood stained his shirt red and ran down his pant legs. I blinked and for a moment it wasn’t Mac standing there bleeding out in front of me. I moved forward in a panic, grabbing him as the men released his arms. I stumbled under his weight, but I managed to get him down on his back. His hands pressed against the wound, but the straw on the floor beneath him turned scarlet.
I ripped his shirt up and pulled his hands away from the wound, replacing them with my own. The hot, slippery mess of organs pulsed against my hands, threatening to spill out onto the dirty floor. Mac panted hard through his teeth, fear and death creeping into his wide eyes. My powers felt fainter than I hoped, but the comforting warmth swept down my arms and into Mac.
“It’s ok. You’re ok,” I whispered to him.
His eyes locked on mine as the blood flow eased, and my powers wove his body back together. When only a fresh, pink scar remained, I let go. I wrapped my shaking arms around myself, noting Trey’s jacket was now covered in Mac’s blood.
The woman moved forward from where she’d been hovering near my elbow and ran her hand over the scar on Mac’s stomach. Mac lay still on the floor, panting.
“Incredible,” the woman murmured. “Does it hurt?”
Mac swallowed, his nostrils flaring. “Not anymore.”
The woman turned to me, taking my face in her hands. A sugary scent washed over me as she leaned closer. It clashed with the sharp tang of blood. She tilted my head down, inspecting the scabbed gash on my head.
“You can’t heal yourself?” she asked, suddenly soothing and calm like a mother talking to her child.
“No.”
Mac pushed himself up to sit, and with the way the woman tilted my head, I could see his hands trembling. His body had healed, but my powers couldn’t replace the blood he’d lost.
“Don’t stand up too fast,” I told him.
He gave me a nod but didn’t say anything as he stood, swaying just a little bit, but he made it to the wall and leaned on it for support.
The woman still studied me, her eyes bright and calculating. “Could you do it again?” She stroked my hair as though I were a pet.
My panic spiked and I forced myself not to look at Mac. “I need…I need rest,” I stammered. “I can only do it so much.”
“How much?” she pushed.
“I…I don’t know—”
The woman turned to one of her men, cutting me off.
“Sax, bring me Hojo.”
The man gave a sharp nod and disappeared through the door. The woman let go of me and stood, pulling out a cloth and wiping Mac’s blood from her knife. I climbed to my feet, brushing bloody straw from my pants. My mind balked at every scenario running through it, and I couldn’t help glancing toward Mac. He still leaned on the wall, but he was standing. I had a strange flash of relief that at least she wasn’t going to hurt Mac again and frowned, disgusted with myself.
Mac met my eyes, staring at me hard as though trying to communicate something, but before I could even begin to try and figure it out the sound of a metal door clanging open sounded in the distance. Someone started yelling in a hoarse, furious voice.
Sax returned, dragging a dirty, gaunt man with wild, ratted hair. He threw him into the chair and started buckling him in. The man thrashed and kicked, but Sax overpowered him. Bile rose in my throat, but I forced myself to swallow it down.
“Madame,” Hojo barked, “you fuckin’ bitch.”
Madame smiled and stalked toward him. She angled the knife and set it against the man’s arm bound to the chair. “We’re gonna have some fun, you and I,” she said, then she leaned in and whispered, “You shoulda killed me instead of him.”
“I didn’t—” Hojo started, but the words cut off in a scream.
I couldn’t help the strangled noise that escaped through my teeth as she sliced into his arm. Hojo’s scream grew louder as she moved the knife up toward his shoulder, cutting so deep I could see the white of his bone. Blood spilled down his arm and into the straw.
“It wasn’t me!” he howled. “It wasn’t me!”
Madame ignored him, turning those cold eyes back on me. “Go ahead, Bones.”
Hojo sobbed and spat out every curse word in the book as I laid shaking hands on his bloody arm. The warmth remained, but using it ached like a sore muscle. The bleeding eased and the skin began to knit itself back together, slower than before, but still steady. Hojo’s sobs quieted as I healed him, and I could feel him studying me. Madame hovered close again, watching. Finally, the wound closed. Madame bent over Hojo’s arm, and I couldn’t contain my gasp of horror as she sliced his arm open again. Hojo’s scream made my ears ring.
“Again.” Madame smiled.
I did it again. I had to choke back a sob when next she crushed Hojo’s fingers in an iron clamp, but I healed those too. One of her men took an iron bar and smashed Hojo’s leg until the bone broke. I healed that too, tears spilling from my eyes as Hojo screamed and cursed and spit. They tortured him for hours, and I healed him every time, the pain from doing so turning sharper. Madame spoke to him a few times, a mixture of taunting and questioning. I wanted to tell her if he knew anything, he would’ve spilled it all by now, but I kept my lips pressed tight together.
My power flowing through me started to feel like claws shredding me from the inside. Sweat stung my eyes, and when I swiped a sleeve across my running nose, it came back bloody. Mac watched me, his dark eyes glittering. I got the impression Madame was testing him as well as me, and I gritted my teeth, trying to make myself numb.
Madame slashed her knife through Hojo’s neck, and I managed to heal the deadly wound before I stumbled and fell to my knees, vomiting bile into the bloody straw. My body shook as I heaved. Above me, Hojo sobbed.
“Get her up,” I heard Madame say.
Somebody hauled me to my feet. The room spun. Madame said something but I couldn’t focus on the words. A sharp stinging slap to my face made me gasp.
“Again,” Madame ordered.
She plunged the knife into Hojo’s chest. Hojo let out a pained wheeze. Madame pulled the knife back out and smiled at me.
“Or he dies.”
I lurched forward and fumbled at the wound. Hojo’s eyes closed, his face twisted in pain. I tried to find any remnant of my power inside me, but nothing remained but wisps of smoke. The room tilted, darkness creeping into the edges of my vision. I tried to focus on Hojo, tried to blink past the darkness, but then, nothing.