Dr Marr gestured calmly toward the vials beside me.
“Each of these contains an extracted sample of magical essence from one of our subjects. With your assistance, we may be able to remove the danger they pose—to others and to themselves—and help them reintegrate into society in a far safer manner.”
“As Nulls,” I said flatly. “You want me to take their powers.”
“Surely you can see,” he replied, smiling faintly, “that this is the more preferable choice.”
I shook my head, stomach rolling.
“That’s not fair! It’s not up to me—or you—who gets to keep their powers or not!”
“Of course it is!” he insisted, almost delighted by my outrage. “Miss Quinn, look around you. This world is twisted by powers, all in the wrong hands. Together, we can fix this. You and me. We can help everyone.”
“Help them?” I choked out. “Bystealingfrom them? By burning the magic out of their blood? How can you not see how sick that is?”
Dr Marr’s expression didn’t change—if anything, it became emptier.
“Then perhaps,” he said softly, “we attempt this the more direct way.”
He reached over and pressed a button on the intercom.
“Mr Lyconis, you can stop now.”
My heart lurched.
“No.”
On the monitor, Ash slowed, stumbling as techs stepped forward to disconnect the tubes from his arms. The drugs were still leaving his system—his pupils blown wide, breath coming hard.
“Matthew,” Dr Marr said, voice smooth. “Bring Mr Lyconis to my office.”
“No!” I screamed.
On the screen, the tech froze mid-reach.
Ash lifted his head, blinking blearily toward the camera, trying to orient on the voice—on me.
“Dr Marr?” Matthew asked over the feed, uncertain.
Dr Marr didn’t answer him.
He just stared at me.
Waiting.
Letting the threat breathe.
Letting it sink deep into my bones.
He waited for my decision.
“I won’t hurt him. I refuse,” I whispered, shaking.
Marr smiled softly, like he’d known what my answer would be all along.
“So then, Miss Quinn… what’s your choice?”
I stared back at him, hating this man with every fibre of my being.
