“Sto—”But I can’t get the whole word out, let alone use my gift, as the liquid is being poured down my throat.
“None of that, honey,” Joseph chastises, his grip on my jaw tight as he keeps it pried open.
Cecilia, I presume, pockets the empty vial but doesn’t bother to put the cloth back in my mouth. Why? Are they not afraid I’ll… that I’d…
Something is wrong. It feels as if a balloon is inflating in my chest, forcing down my coercion with each pained breath I take, making it inaccessible to me.
“What did you give me?” I ask, and since I’m speaking for the first time in who knows how long, my voice comes out rough and foreign. My throat hurts.
“It’s a serum,” a different suit explains. He’s keeping his distance, standing next to the last of their little gang as they gaze at me in disgust. “It keeps you from using your gift.”
“Don’t worry,” Joseph tells me, laughing lightly. “It only lasts a few hours.”
“So,” Cecilia begins, giving me a pointed glare as she taps the toe of her high heel. “Where is your uncle?”
“Fuck you,” I tell her, and this time, as I spit blood from my mouth, it lands right next to her.
She scoffs, but Joseph just laughs again.
“Feisty! I am starting to see why Repressor Nathaniel was failing.”
Repressor? That’s the second time I’ve heard that now. Whatever watchers and repressors are, I don’t want a part in it. I just need to sort out how to—
Wait. RepressorNathaniel?
Surely not. They cannot be talking aboutmyNathaniel.
But something must show on my face now, because a sadistic, twisted grin covers the friendly one Joseph was just wearing.
“Yes,thatNathaniel. Did he not tell you? Were you unaware that he worked for me? For EP?”
“Liar,”I sneer, leaning forward in my chair. “Let me go now, and I won’t bring my family into this. Do you know who I am?”
“I do,” Joseph says easily. “You’re Landon Presley, and your uncle is Benji Presley. And I amnota liar, Landon.”
No. Nathaniel wouldn’t… helikesme, even if he’s yet to say it definitively. They must be thinking of someone different, or maybe they’re using him against me because they saw me with him.
Yes! That must be it. They’re after Nate’s power too and are trying to use some sick psychology on me.
“Don’t believe me? Well, that’s fine.” Joseph pulls up a spare chair, taking a seat in front of me. “Now, tell me about your uncle. I promise to be more civil than my repressors if you comply.”
“Fuck. You.”
“Boston,” the man in front of me suddenly calls out, all sincerity wiped from his face completely.
“Yes,” one of the other men says, walking forward and presenting him with a metal rod.
And then Joseph hits me with it, slamming it down over my shoulder so hard I scream. Pain blossoms throughout my body, lighting me up from the inside as I pant.
“This is how our little moment together will work,” he says, stroking the rod. “You answer our questions, or I beat you senseless. Got it?”
A small whimper leaves me from the pain, but if he thinks I’ll crack under torture, he’s wrong. I can handle pain.
“I don’t think he’s going to cave, J,” Boston offers not so helpfully, causing Joseph to hum thoughtfully.
“Let’s find out, shall we?”
As I come to, I’m in such excruciating pain that all I can do is moan. I’m not certain when I passed out, but between that metal rod and Boston’s bare fists, I’m feeling a lot like death.
