God, I miss him.
I miss North’s caring and domineering ways, Atlas’ complete acceptance and love for me, and Gabe’s loyalty to me, kind and savage and sure.
I even miss worrying about Nox’s loathing and his dream-like bed with a hundred nightmares keeping watch over us both, and I fucking miss Brutus like a hole in my heart.
“For the infamous IW, you look kind of pathetic,” the guy holding my arm says. I shrug at him, because if I’m going to be stuck dealing with these assholes, then I might as well have some fun with it.
“It doesn’t really matter how I look though, does it? You’ll still be the first to die when I take this camp. Next will be mouthy Zarah. Then, whoever the fuck broke my Bond’s leg will go next. He kinda needs it to keep up with me.”
The guy scoffs, but the older, bigger guard beside him smacks him on the back of his head and snaps, “For a Neuro, you’re pretty stupid, Cam. She was taking out more people than an atomic bomb at fourteen. Shut your mouth before it gets you killed the minute Franklin gets sent out.”
Cam scoffs some more, puffing his chest out and putting some extra swagger in his step like he’s a big man, but he doesn’t say anything else. No one else tries to speak, and they all clutch at their weapons as we walk through the busy camp. There’s a lot of people bustling around but they scatter away from us with either looks of concern or outright fear.
This is how I know that I really am a monster, no matter what my Bonds have to say otherwise.
When we reach Davies’ tent, we stop outside while the older guard steps in first, probably to announce our arrival and get orders on where to put us, and I take a second to glance back at Kieran and check out how he’s faring with all of the movement.
The answer to that is not well at all.
His usually tanned skin is sallow looking. There’s a fine sheen of sweat over his forehead, and even with his mouth in a firmly controlled line, he looks like he’s about to pass out.
I turn back to face the mouthy young guard again and say in a quiet, low tone, “If he dies from that broken leg, I will trigger every last one of your darkest nightmares until your brain breaks down inside your skull. I’ll use every single trick that Davies tortured into me to prolong your death until you die writhing.”
He gulps.
I’m starting to get addicted to that response.
I hear the tent flap pull back again and then I hear his voice say, “Who would’ve known that all it would take to bring out the darkness in you would be to have your Bonds here too? You delight me, little Render.”
Don’t react to him, Oli. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much you hate having his approval.
The young guard snaps to attention and jerks me forward, acting as though he wasn’t just shitting himself over my words, and he directs me into Davies’ work space. We should count our blessings that it’s this one and not his actual torture tent, but now isn’t the time to point that out to Kieran.
It’s easily five times bigger than the tent we were being kept in and there’s lights hanging from the higher ceiling, making the space bright and inviting. It’s all a farce, the careful way that Davies plans out everything to seem as though he’s a good and decent man and not the utter freaking sadist he is.
There’s a wooden desk at one end of the space near an operating table, complete with restraints and stirrups. I glance over to see Kieran scowling at it. When he meets my eyes, there’s a question there that I can’t really answer right now. He’s probably coming up with all sorts of ideas about what happens on that table, and I’m sure that at least half of them will be correct.
Davies steps back up to his tool desk and then sweeps a dramatic hand towards the table. “Help our guest up onto the table, and leave her broken Bond over at the restraint point where he can observe all of my hard work.”
I walk over myself, not giving the guards the satisfaction of dragging me, and even though it’s awkward with my restraints, I climb up onto the table. They’re extra cautious when they tie me down, securing the new straps on before they remove the old ones, and I want to scream at them because of course I’m not going to do anything.
Davies is without a doubt stronger than I am. I’m not a freaking idiot.
“No, you’re not. They’re all going to underestimate you, little Render. They’re all going to look at you and see some pretty little girl forever. The only reason they look so worried is because I’ve missed you, you know? When you ran from me… the things I did to the men and women who let you escape, well, it’s become a bit of a legend around here. They don’t understand your power, what you can do… You really will be my weapon, just as soon as I’ve collected all of your Bonds. How many were there again?”