Page 67 of Stormbreaker

“Nothing, sorry,” she says, perhaps sensing she’s stuffed her foot in her mouth. “I just thought you’d be destined for . . .”

“Life as a Society wife?” I ask, and she winces.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

I shrug as I watch Rook and Dr. Eze on the other side of the glass. “I can understand why you might have thought that.”

I turn to Domino, wanting to assure her I’m not upset, but she just smiles. “Well, I think it’s badass.”

I can’t help but smile back. “You’re pretty badass, too.”

She barks out a laugh. “If I last more than five minutes, maybe.”

I try to play along and chuckle, but I’m once again focused on Rook and the Extinguisher, who appears to have taken a special interest in him. The tests are starting, and we both watch as everyone’s bodies twitch from the currents now running through their systems.

It doesn’t take long before a guy at the far end starts howling in pain as he thrashes in his bed so hard, he kicks a doctor in the face and knocks the nodes off his skin. He flips off the bed, lands on his knees, and hurls up the contents of his stomach, vomit coating the floor and his hands.

“Oh no,” Domino says, covering her mouth and looking away. “I can’t watch people throw up.” She puts her head down and crosses the room, facing the wall as she waits for the cleaning crew that’s just arrived to remove the guy, the puke, and the now-unconscious doctor. Well, this is going great.

Thankfully, the others appear to be faring better. They lie on their beds with a determined set to their jaws, perhaps willing themselves to survive this.

Once again, I watch Rook.

He’s clearly feeling the charges, evidenced by the pained look on his face. His hands have balled into fists, a vein is pulsing in his temple, and he’s shifting a little where he lies.

The dark-haired Extinguisher is watching Rook intently. Does he see something to give him pause? Or is it just because Rook’s a Solitude?

Another person starts screaming and begging to be let go.

The tests end, and thankfully, no one else throws up, no one dies, and only one unconscious person has to be carried out on a stretcher.

Most notably, no one is arrested.

They’re all given a few minutes to rest before, one by one, they peel themselves up and stagger into the main area. Everyone looks a little punch-drunk and wobbly, with their hair standing on end, their pupils blown, and their limbs twitching.

Rook runs his hands through his hair, the crackle of static snapping around him. He seems fine, and the Extinguishers are now focused on the next group approaching the beds.

Dr. Eze consults her tablet. “Poet Graves? You’re up.”

25

It takes only a few minutes to get settled in the same bed Rook just vacated. It’s still warm from his body, where his scent lingers. Fresh grass. Green apples. I shake my head, trying to dislodge wayward thoughts of what it might be like to get closer to it.

“I’m going to attach these,” Dr. Eze says, bringing me back to reality as she peels the stickers off a new set of nodes and affixes them to my skin. Then she turns to the beeping machine next to her, adjusts a few knobs, and presses some buttons.

“We’ll start slowly,” she assures me with a warm smile. Through it all, I’m excruciatingly aware of the Extinguishers and their stunners nearby. What kind of monster chooses to join them? Who delights in hunting down innocent people to be delivered to some nefarious fate?

But I acknowledge they might be necessary.

That I’m not innocent, and that I could be the monster, not them.

My heart is pounding through my chest as Dr. Eze lays a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Just lie back and breathe,” she tells me. “Nothing to worry about.”

Sure. Easy for her to say. Even if I weren’t terrified of being discovered, the fact that someone left the room unconscious a few minutes ago would worry anyone.

Then she slowly cranks a dial as the machine whirs to life.

I feel it instantly. Electricity runs under my skin and through my bones like little muted rivers. It’s different from Spark, just like she claimed. There’s no all-consuming pain threatening to rip me apart. It burns just a little, and I wince at the slight discomfort, but this is nothing. I must make a sound because her gaze flicks to me before returning to the screen.