Just like he had hurt Mace.
For the first time in eight terrible months, Knox eased his iron grip on his own anger. He let himself feel the pain, the loss, the bone-deep rage. He let himself feel everything he’d been holding back since Mace’s reappearance in their lives.
It must have shown in his eyes. The soldier about to close with him took a stumbling step back. Knox lunged, grabbing him by the front of his armor with both hands and swinging. He released the man with a roar and watched him plow through two of his squadmates, knocking them all to the ground.
Knox didn’t let them recover. His resolve absolute and his rage like fire in his blood, Knox threw himself into the dance.
TECHCORPS PROPRIETARY DATA, L2 SECURITY CLEARANCE
Order a full psychological assessment on 66–793. He was recruited before I adjusted the sniper evaluation criteria. We will not have another 66–221.
Recruit Analysis, April 2068
TWENTY-FIVE
Gray hadn’t made a sound.
The scent of blood had lodged in Maya’s throat like glass. Not that there was so much blood, really. Richter had been precise with the application of pain. But a dozen shallow cuts in sensitive places meant to cause slow-burning agony had failed to provoke the desired response.
Gray didn’t flinch. He didn’t gasp or hiss. He didn’t give any indication that he noticed Richter’s attempts at all. The gentle warmth in his blue eyes never faltered as he held Maya’s gaze, willing her to remember.
I will never let myself be used as a weapon against you.
The effort had to be costing him. He was burning through the months he should have had left, spending the strength of his body to protect her heart.
She had to move faster.
Her wrists were already rubbed raw from her slow attempts. Her arms ached with the effort of holding rigidly still and giving nothing away. But gentle flexing had allowed her to work the bracelet Dani had given her around until her thumb could just brush the catch.
Such a clever gift. Much more practical than trying to smuggle a fork everywhere. The guards hadn’t even given it a second look when they roughly searched her for weapons. It was just a pretty little thing of hammered silver, a useless accessory.
Except nothing Dani chose was ever useless. Maya finally managed to trigger the catch, and the fastening parted with a silent click. A tiny blade no thicker than her thumbnail and twice the length slid from the clasp—not enough of a weapon to do much damage against trained soldiers.
But plenty of knife to saw through the zip ties holding her.
She exhaled and glanced at the guards. They stood on either side of the room now, dispassionate gazes fixed on Gray in tense anticipation of him exploding into violence. Neither showed the slightest concern for the literal torture playing out in front of them.
Just another day on the job at the TechCorps.
The scalpel flashed out of the corner of her eye. Maya had tried not to look, but now she couldn’t help it. Richter slid it along Gray’s upper arm, parallel to the bone, peeling up a thin layer of skin, and Maya couldn’t choke back her whimper of protest.
“The mountains,” Gray murmured. “Most people think of them in the winter or fall, but they’re beautiful in the springtime, too.”
“We’ll go see them,” she promised him, setting the blade against the plastic tie on her left wrist. The tip jabbed into her skin, and she ignored it and flexed slowly, grinding the sharp edge against the plastic. “After this. Another road trip.”
“How offensive.” Richter turned his icy-blue gaze on her. “Sergeant Gray isn’t offering you false promises.”
“They’re not false,” she snapped, hating the fact that her voice audibly shook. Not fear this time, but rage. Gray might be able to sit there, holding it all in, but hatred smoldered inside her. “The two of us are walking out of here over your fucking corpse.”
“Classy.” He held her gaze as he reached down and dug his fingernails into Gray’s partially flayed arm.
Her fingers slipped. The tiny blade jabbed into her skin again. Maya took a shuddering breath and fought for the control Birgitte had taught her. But the metallic scent of blood scraped over her already raw nerves, dragging her back toward panic.
Panic would be worse than rage. She exhaled on a hiss and let the anger curl around her like fiery armor. “Dani won’t need a knife to peel your face off. She’ll do it with her bare hands.”
“They’re already dead.” His voice was matter-of-fact, without a shred of victory. “There’s only you two left. And you’re making him suffer needlessly, Marjorie.”
The lie was so cool, so confident. Maybe it wasn’t even a lie, maybe it was just the reckless overconfidence of a bully who wasn’t used to being told no. Maya didn’t believe him either way.
But Gray was suffering. He was killing himself to hide it, but she knew his face too well now. The tightness around his eyes. The sweat at his brow. His breathing was off, hitching and a little raspy. How much of this could he take before his body gave up?
Buy time, whispered Nina’s voice in her head. Keep his focus on you. He won’t physically harm you.
“You haven’t even asked me a question yet.” She let her words tremble this time. Richter’s arrogance would read it as fear. “What do you want to know? Maybe we can make a deal.”
“Are you interested in a deal?” The scalpel hit the table with a clink, and Richter reached for a small box with a switch on one side and two metal probes jutting from one end. “If you were open to negotiation, perhaps you should have offered before I started peeling pieces off poor Sergeant Gray here.”
“Isn’t that the fucking point? To make me talk?”
“You still think you’re in control of this. The point is to remind you that you are not.” His thumb ran along the side of the box in a chilling caress. “I will break you this time.”
Maya heaved in an unsteady breath. Not entirely an act—she wasn’t sure she could have matched Gray’s even, steady breathing—but her body shook with the force of it, and it hid her desperate attempt to saw through the rest of the zip tie. “So come break me,” she snarled.
Richter made a disappointed noise. “You know better, Marjorie.”
“Wait—”
He turned and jammed those cruel probes against Gray’s body and flipped the switch.
Even Gray couldn’t hide involuntary responses. His muscles seized and his body lurched as the electricity tore through him. He clenched his jaw tight, refusing to make a sound, but his agony raced over Maya. Her own body shuddered in response, sympathetic pain racing along her own nerves ahead of a growing wave of helplessness.
How could she take a risk when none of the consequences would hurt her? Anything she did would rebound on Gray. He’d pay for her bravado, her fury, her failure.
He’d pay and pay and pay, and the rest of her life would be a living nightmare, locked in the memory of this terrible, chilling silence. Gray, loving her too much to put more scars on her heart.
As if knowing she was the cause of this wasn’t going to shred her heart to pieces.
“Stop,” she whispered.
Richter kept going for another three more horrifying seconds that felt like an eternity, grinding in the conviction that nothing about this was within her control. Rubbing her face in her own helplessness. When he lifted the box, Gray’s body slumped back into the chair.