"Bee," he grits out again, and it sounds as if my name is coming through clenched teeth. Mercy. His tail shivers, and I can't tell if it's with fury or something else. But he doesn't move, which is a good sign. He just remains where he is, hunched in the middle of the floor.
I take a step forward and the door slides shut behind me. It takes everything I have not to jump, and I clench my hands at my sides. Then I realize that's not exactly the pose of a relaxed person, so I force my sweaty fists to release and smooth my hands on the skirt of my tunic. "I'm taking a few steps across the room," I say, dictating aloud my movements. "I don't have any weapons with me, or any food. It's just me and my bare hands, all right? But once we figure out what's bothering you, we'll get you the regular treats I bring."
He doesn't move. If anything, his shoulders get stiffer, and his fingers clench against the floor. The maddening screech of claws against marble ends.
I take that as an encouraging sign. I take a few more slow, deliberate steps forward, talking the entire time. "It's just waffles today, but you like those, right? I got home late last night so there wasn't a lot of time to do anything elaborate. If you like, though, I can make you something better tonight to bring in tomorrow. You just have to tell me what you prefer." I keep my voice soft and even, speaking slowly as I take even slower steps forward. "Did you eat breakfast or were you waiting for me to arrive?"
I'm practically at his side at this point, and he hasn't moved. Encouraging. Whatever is bothering him, he doesn't want to hurt me. That's a good sign. A great sign, actually. I'm so relieved that it makes me want to rush forward, but I continue taking mincing, small steps as I shuffle my way toward him, my actions deliberate. A sudden movement might be his death or mine, and I'm acutely aware of that.
I go to stand in front of Victor, and study him with confusion. His gaze is downcast, his big body trembling slightly. His mouth is covered in froth, strings of drool hanging from his mouth. His muscles are hunched, as if he's…bracing himself? Is he fighting something in his head? I don't get it—all I know is that something is wrong. "Victor," I breathe. "I'm here."
He looks up at me, and our eyes meet.
Victor's eyes are completely flooded with red.
11
BEE
I gasp at the sight of his eyes.
They're blood red, the sclera a dark and angry scarlet. Back when I first started this job, I'd been told that Victor's eyes—Crulden's eyes—would flood with red when he went berserk. I'd almost forgotten about that tidbit, because he's been more or less calm around me. Moody, yes, but never violent. He looks terrifying like this, his eyes full of danger and madness. I fight back the surge of terror I feel because he doesn't look like Victor in this moment. He looks like the monster they want him to be.
And I know that's simply not true. He wants to be better. He doesn't want to attack…because we have a deal. He's going to play along with all of this…and I'm going to kiss him. I know Victor well enough at this point to know that he wants that kiss. He hasn't said as much, but it's been obvious in the way he watches me, in the way he obsesses over my scent, over when Riffin touches me.
He wanted that kiss more than escaping.
Which is why this sudden madness doesn't make sense. What—or who—is pushing him toward berserking? Towards losing the control he's been so careful to keep for this last while, all for the promise of a kiss from someone like me? "Victor," I say softly as those blood-filled eyes lock onto me. "Am I in danger right now, being in here with you?"
He pants, hard. But that's all he does. His fingers dig into the floor again, desperately clawing at the tile.
"I'm going to take that as a no." I pitch my voice low, as if we're sharing secrets. "But you need to talk to me if you can, Victor. Let me help you."
Victor's nostrils flare and his tail lashes. His entire posture is one of danger and I worry that the guards are going to get trigger happy and make matters worse.
So I decide to be a little daring. "Let me help you," I say again, and lift my hands slowly towards his face. His eyes are wild and his mouth slack. A string of drool hangs from one terrifying-looking tusk, but he doesn't look fearsome to me. My heart is squeezing with sympathy instead, because I want to help him. He's obviously distressed. "I'm not leaving you. I'm going to stay at your side and we're going to figure this out, because we're friends." I lift my hands toward his cheeks and move to cup them. "And because we have a deal—"
The moment my skin comes in contact with his, a rush of painful, snapping electricity crashes through me. I cry out as a torrent of pain flares from his body into mine. It feels as if a brick wall slams into me as I go crashing backward.
"Get her out of there," someone shouts. "Light him up!"
Oh no. No, no that's not what I wanted at all. Dizzy, I try to sit up. Everything in my body feels as if it's been pounded to dust. There's a smell of something singed, which I suspect is me. My ears are ringing and the shouts of the guards sound very far away. Rough hands grab my arms, hauling me upright. My head feels like it's full of slush as I get to my feet, but my legs don't feel strong enough to hold me. What—
"Don't touch her!"
The snarl comes from Victor. A moment later, the guard holding me upright goes flying as Victor grabs him by the collar and flings him aside. A moment later, he braces his hands over me, against the wall. We've been in this pose before, and as I look up at Victor's terrifying face, his red eyes are focused on me and only me.
"Bee," he manages. "Can't…touch me. Not…safe."
"Someone get that shock collar activated," the captain yells. "My control isn't working!"
"Captain, sir, we are," cries one of the guards. "All of ours are turned on. It's not working!"
Victor stares down at me, his blood-filled eyes wide and distant. He trembles overhead, his nails digging into the walls of his cell. It's like he's desperately trying to keep control. A split second later, I realize that's exactly what he's doing. The shock-guns aren't activating because his collar is already at full blast.
He's being tortured.
"I'm here," I tell him softly. "I won't leave you." In a louder voice, I call out, "Someone get First Rank Novis! His collar is malfunctioning!"
12
VICTOR
When the pain falls away, it feels like a trick. To go from a full night of endless pain, unable to function without agony to…silence? To relief? It takes time for it to sink in, and when it does, I collapse to my knees. I don't want to—I don't want to show weakness in front of anyone—but there's no strength left in me. It took everything I had not to claw off my own face, not to fling myself at the walls and break through to kill the hated guards that were doing this to me.
The only thing that kept me from losing my grasp on sanity was the realization that Bee would not stand for this. Bee would be mad when she found out. Bee, who is going to kiss me as long as I uphold my end of our bargain.