neutral.
Was that part of the burden? The thought snaked away. She clung to it, and the flesh under her skin began stinging again, ant bites spreading. It hurt worse when she tried to cling to understanding. If she let go, hazed out her focus, the burn subsided. By the time she brought herself back to awareness, the ox’s voice filled the room again.
“…began experimenting with different levels of current after a riot at Madisonville.”
She recognized the name of the Council prison reserved for criminal Sparks. It was in Zone Two. No. Zone Four? Yes, it was in Four.
“It was an accident.” The man smiled. “But when even the strongest of our Spark offenders were incapacitated, we realized what we should have known after experiencing the grounding hangover.” The man was pleased, rocking back and forth on his toes. “That happy discovery led to different modes of application. All of the Madisonville prisoners are fitted with electric collars like the shipment we’ve been promised.”
His voice became a buzz again, blending with the buzz in her head.
“…can see it disrupts the critical processes we Sparks use to maintain Dust activity. No focus. No Sparking. It will also reduce her resistance to suggestion. We’d like to find out exactly what she can do, but without the demonstration Agent Brayer got.” He clapped Lucas on the shoulder and laughed.
The Councilor’s leer raked over her again as he spoke. “…like to make sure the current fluctuation will be effective before I go. I’ll be very disappointed if this one—” He broke off and turned a more respectful look to Reyes. “If Lena is as big a disappointment as the last one because I could use the prestige of—.”
The last one? She pulled in her focus sharp and tight, gritting her teeth against the pain. There had been another?
Reyes’s head snapped up though he shifted the movement into a casual back and forth stretch of his neck. The ox immediately spoke over the Councilor, offering reassurances and making a display of sliding up a handle from the end of the bed to prepare the demonstration.
The last one? The last one like me? Or the last little girl? Her father hadn’t been wrong.
Wait. Her mind tracked back. Demonstration?
Current poured into her like acid, ate down into her flesh from the electrode pads, and then spread. Her body arched, straining against the restraints holding her flat. It had the battery acid, electric burn, white heat of a grounding with none of the protections offered by the Dust. The raw current seared down and out, arcing through every part of her skin in contact with the table beneath her.
Then it was gone. Her teeth unclenched, and she found her voice, a hiccupping negative moan so raw it echoed back down at her from the ceiling. Her arms and legs and neck trembled with the memory of the spasms. She tried to catch her breath. She failed.
It took time for her to regain awareness and the moan to fade to ragged sobs. The men stood around her bed in silence. She opened her eyes, feeling the heat of tears tracking back into her hair.
Reyes stood over her, his face a mask of detachment but for one tiny muscle that jumped at the back of his jaw.
None of the other men, however, were remotely detached. The ox man, Hernandez, wore an expression of anticipation, expecting that whatever he wanted from her, he would have. The men to either side of him wore nearly identical expressions of pleasure. Lucas’s face was a study in vengeful satisfaction, and the Councilor….
Lena squeezed her eyelids tight. Bright, raw lust lit the Councilor’s face, and his chest heaved. Had he been this excited when his men murdered her father?
Her hands clenched and unclenched. Her father had tried to protect her. He’d raised her in hiding, taught her to live a lie to keep her out of the clutches of the Council. But even the loss of her childhood hadn’t been enough. He had been as unable to keep her
Was that part of the burden? The thought snaked away. She clung to it, and the flesh under her skin began stinging again, ant bites spreading. It hurt worse when she tried to cling to understanding. If she let go, hazed out her focus, the burn subsided. By the time she brought herself back to awareness, the ox’s voice filled the room again.
“…began experimenting with different levels of current after a riot at Madisonville.”
She recognized the name of the Council prison reserved for criminal Sparks. It was in Zone Two. No. Zone Four? Yes, it was in Four.
“It was an accident.” The man smiled. “But when even the strongest of our Spark offenders were incapacitated, we realized what we should have known after experiencing the grounding hangover.” The man was pleased, rocking back and forth on his toes. “That happy discovery led to different modes of application. All of the Madisonville prisoners are fitted with electric collars like the shipment we’ve been promised.”
His voice became a buzz again, blending with the buzz in her head.
“…can see it disrupts the critical processes we Sparks use to maintain Dust activity. No focus. No Sparking. It will also reduce her resistance to suggestion. We’d like to find out exactly what she can do, but without the demonstration Agent Brayer got.” He clapped Lucas on the shoulder and laughed.
The Councilor’s leer raked over her again as he spoke. “…like to make sure the current fluctuation will be effective before I go. I’ll be very disappointed if this one—” He broke off and turned a more respectful look to Reyes. “If Lena is as big a disappointment as the last one because I could use the prestige of—.”
The last one? She pulled in her focus sharp and tight, gritting her teeth against the pain. There had been another?
Reyes’s head snapped up though he shifted the movement into a casual back and forth stretch of his neck. The ox immediately spoke over the Councilor, offering reassurances and making a display of sliding up a handle from the end of the bed to prepare the demonstration.
The last one? The last one like me? Or the last little girl? Her father hadn’t been wrong.
Wait. Her mind tracked back. Demonstration?
Current poured into her like acid, ate down into her flesh from the electrode pads, and then spread. Her body arched, straining against the restraints holding her flat. It had the battery acid, electric burn, white heat of a grounding with none of the protections offered by the Dust. The raw current seared down and out, arcing through every part of her skin in contact with the table beneath her.
Then it was gone. Her teeth unclenched, and she found her voice, a hiccupping negative moan so raw it echoed back down at her from the ceiling. Her arms and legs and neck trembled with the memory of the spasms. She tried to catch her breath. She failed.
It took time for her to regain awareness and the moan to fade to ragged sobs. The men stood around her bed in silence. She opened her eyes, feeling the heat of tears tracking back into her hair.
Reyes stood over her, his face a mask of detachment but for one tiny muscle that jumped at the back of his jaw.
None of the other men, however, were remotely detached. The ox man, Hernandez, wore an expression of anticipation, expecting that whatever he wanted from her, he would have. The men to either side of him wore nearly identical expressions of pleasure. Lucas’s face was a study in vengeful satisfaction, and the Councilor….
Lena squeezed her eyelids tight. Bright, raw lust lit the Councilor’s face, and his chest heaved. Had he been this excited when his men murdered her father?
Her hands clenched and unclenched. Her father had tried to protect her. He’d raised her in hiding, taught her to live a lie to keep her out of the clutches of the Council. But even the loss of her childhood hadn’t been enough. He had been as unable to keep her
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