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“Kill him,” Moargan urged. “Let the static out and aim for the motherfucker, not my dad’s vintage collection.”
Ryneth turned back to the prisoner. He wanted the truth before the silence. He wanted to ask why. Who had bought him? Where would they find him?
What was on the other side of the Ward?
“Why me?” Ryneth growled. He stood inches from the man. The static flared. Blue sparks jumped from his hair to his shoulders. “Who’s coming for me?”
“Someone who knows how to break a monster,” the man hissed. He leaned into Ryneth’s space despite the arcs of light burning his skin.
Ryneth’s fist clenched. The words wouldn't form properly. His mind was a slurry of drugs and adrenaline.
“You’re taking your sweet time, Ryneth.” Aviel stepped in, guiding Theo forward by that strange silver thread of power. The blond man looked fragile under the lights, mouth parted, his eyes wide and wet with a terror that made Ryneth’s stomach turn. He swayed when Aviel left him in the middle of the room.
“What are you doing?”
“He’s hesitating,” Aviel said. “If he won’t strike the enemy, give him something softer to fear hitting.”
Ryneth’s vision blurred. He turned toward Theo and saw the phantom from his capture. He didn't want to kill Theo. He didn't want to kill anyone.
The charge snapped out of control.
Blue arcs of light danced between Ryneth’s knuckles. The air hissed. It was screaming for a circuit to close, an ache in his bones that only violence could soothe. The arousal was a clawing beast in his gut. It demanded an outlet.
“Who sent you?” Ryneth roared. He lunged at the prisoner. His hand connected with the man’s throat.
The man laughed even as the blue light began to cook his skin. “The person... who’s going to... break you...”
Ryneth didn’t let him finish. He couldn’t bear one more word. He let the pressure go.
The current struck the prisoner square in the chest. His body lifted off its feet and slammed into the guards behind him.
His eyes flashed white as he went blind, his scream tearing out of him as the heat filled his lungs and seared them from the inside.
The man’s jumpsuit ignited first, the fabric melting against his skin, blistering flesh.
Ryneth couldn’t stop. His thoughts fractured with visions of his home, torn apart by the likes of this man.
The prisoner collapsed, muscles locking as his spine arched. Then his chest gave. The pressure inside him burst outward in a spray of steam and blood.
The light cut off mid-pulse.
What remained collapsed in a smoking heap.
Ryneth should have felt sick. Horrified. Instead, some vicious part of him was still listening for more. Still hungry.
The realization hit harder than the kill itself. Whatever they had put inside him, it had liked that, and that terrified him more than the body on the floor.
If it was true, where did it leave the boy Mara had raised?
The arc didn’t stop. It branched, a lethal ribbon of blue-white current whipping toward Theo.
“No!” Ryneth gasped.
But Theo didn't move. He didn't even flinch. He just watched the light come for him.
“Vireth!” Aviel shouted.
The static hit Theo’s chest and vanished. It was like throwing lightning into a void. There was no burn. No scream.
