Page 68 of Stormbreaker

“You’re doing great,” she assures. “A little more.”

She twists the knob another notch before the pulse kicks up. I can’t quite describe the sensation. It’s like I’ve been wrapped in cotton and held against an electric fence. It isn’t pleasant, but it isn’t the bittersweet agony I’m accustomed to.

A presence appears at the glass wall separating me from the rest of the room. The dark-haired Extinguisher is watching me intently now. I wish I knew what he was looking for. Can he see it? Or is it Dr. Eze who’ll be able to tell?

My palms turn sweaty as we continue in the same vein for what feels like several minutes. I try to mimic the same discomfort I witnessed in everyone else, hoping it appears like I’m being affected the same way. I wince and squeeze my fists. Close my eyes and inhale deep breaths.

Pulses thrum through my body, almost like I’ve been filled with dense slabs of foam. It’s heavy and light at the same time.

The Extinguisher moves around the glass and approaches the bed, stopping at my feet. From here I can read his name tag. Lieutenant Dire. How fitting. My vision smears as my breathing turns short. Why is he coming over? Did he do that with anyone else? Suddenly, I can’t remember a single thing that happened in the last ten minutes.

He tucks his hands into the straps of his harness and squints at the dials on the machine. Dr. Eze turns to face him, allowing him to study the monitors with her mouth pressed together. Even in my increasingly panicked state, I get the sense she isn’t a fan of his scrutiny.

“All good?” he asks.

I stop breathing. Black spots form in my eyes. I squirm on the table, torn between ripping off the nodes to run away and lying here perfectly still, hoping that somehow, I’ll escape this. Dire taps the glass on one of the dials, and I flinch, almost like he’s threatened to backhand me.

“All good,” Dr. Eze says, her voice cheerful. Cool and calm. It takes me a moment to process her words. Dire doesn’t move, his eyes narrowing further.

A scream tears through the room, and we all turn to look. Someone is thrashing wildly in the next bed. Points of light flash over their skin as they scream and scream in agony. I recognize a guy from House Fiama. Jacen. Suddenly, he stops, his limbs going limp, his head lolling to the side. Puffs of black smoke curl off his skin, now turned a sickly shade of gray.

Lieutenant Dire quickly rushes over as doctors gather around the dead student.

“Skies,” I whisper.

Dr. Eze reaches down and squeezes my wrist, and I start breathing again. Lieutenant Dire’s focus has moved away from me, and air floods my lungs as my vision returns to normal. I exhale and then inhale several times before wiping my forehead.

The doctor looks down at me, and something flickers across her face, an expression like a question lifting in her gaze. A quick brightening of her eyes and then the press of her mouth at the corners. It feels like an unspoken message.

Does she know? Can she tell what I am? Did she just lie to the Extinguisher? The only thing worse than being a Spark Keeper is lying to protect one. Why would she do that for me?

We break eye contact, and she flips off the machine. The pulses take a few seconds to dissipate, leaving only a slight trembling in my limbs. They’re already carrying Jacen’s body away. Henry told us we always lose one.

“It’s okay,” Dr. Eze says with a reassuring smile, but the knot of worry is permanently buried in my chest. If she suspected something, I’d already be in handcuffs. Right? “Take your time getting up. You’ll be a little wobbly for the next hour or so.”

Slowly, I sit up and swing my feet to the floor, staring at the tiles as I wait for my head to stop swimming. My heart flutters like it’s been shocked several times; I’m starting to understand why Storm Breakers have limited lifespans.

“You did well with that level of charge,” Dr. Eze says, her tone businesslike. “We can start there again next time and likely maintain that strength. It’s not about hammering it in; it’s about building up a tolerance, but I can tell you already have a natural immunity.”

I look up quickly and meet her gaze. She holds it and arches a brow ever so slightly. Is she trying to tell me she knows? And that she won’t report me? I’m probably imagining things.

Someone opens the door to our enclosure, pulling our gazes apart.

“Ready for the next round, Doctor?” an assistant asks, and she nods.

I’m struck by how quickly we’re just moving on from Jacen. Like it never even happened.

“Just give Poet a moment, and then you can send in the next cadet.”

The doctor begins typing something into her tablet. I wish I could see if it’s about me and, more importantly, what she’s saying. I’m still aware of the Extinguishers watching. I can’t risk asking.

I’ve been delaying for too long because she looks over with a furrow between her brows. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Thank you.”

She returns to her work, and I enter the main area. I don’t feel quite like myself. The false charges pulsing under my skin are a foreign invader, throwing off my balance.

Plus, watching Jacen die is completely fucking with my head.