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I spun toward him, and his expression…oh my God, his expression was anguish creased with fury, deep and open, grooved with heartache and glowing red with murder.
“Michio?” My heart banged wildly as I reached for him, my hand hovering beside his cheek, so close I felt the heat radiating from his skin.
His arms hung at his sides, his body relaxed. His stoic posture was such a contradiction to the thunderstorm contorting his face my brain struggled to comprehend the paradox.
“I’ve given him control over his facial muscles.” The Drone said, matter-of-factly. “And now his voice.”
“I’m so sorry.” Michio’s face twisted in horror, his deep timbre cracking with agony. “Oh Evie, I’m so fucking sorry. Sosorrysosorry. I can’t…I can’t— Fuck! I’m going to kill—”
His mouth slackened, and his expression emptied.
“Noooo!” My heart pumped frantically as I launched at Michio and hugged his torso. “Bring him back. Let me see him again!”
Michio’s body didn’t respond, his arms dangling in my embrace.
A few feet away, the Drone remained perched on the stool, watching us with his head slightly tilted, his eyes unfocused, and a smirk on his melted mouth. Fuck him.
I reached up, pulled Michio’s face to mine, and stared into his flat eyes. “God, Michio, I missed you so much.” I peppered desperate kisses across his blank face and wrapped my arms around his neck, touching our foreheads together. “I love you. I’m here. Right here. We’re together, okay? This isn’t your fault. None of it. Dammit, I know you can hear me. Just…just don’t give up.”
He didn’t move beneath my touch, didn’t meet my eyes. But he was in there, locked behind that terrible shell of an expression. Sweet fucking hell, he was still here.
A surge of raw anger made its way along my limbs, curling my fingers against his shoulders. We would get past this, starting with severing the Drone’s head. Or wrenching off his arm and stabbing him in the eye with it. If his death didn’t release the minds of his spiders, we would kill them, too, then save the women outside the gate. Then side by side, we would find Jesse and Roark.
I replayed the violent fantasy of our escape over and over until all I saw was a red haze of vengeance. My hands shook as I slid down Michio’s chest and turned toward the Drone, my gaze hitting my target like a sharp, flinging blade.
Operating purely on instinct and rage, I didn’t think as I flung toward him, fingernails aimed for his shriveled face with every intention of clawing out his eyes and tearing the flesh from his skull.
An arm caught me around the waist, halting my momentum mid-air, and wrenched me backward before I made contact with that vile face. I choked, losing the wind in my lungs as strong hands blurrily spun me around. Everything happened so fast, my fists swinging and dodging, my heart pumping rapidly, and the room whipping around me.
All of it came to a stop as Michio’s knuckles slammed into my jaw. Fiery pain jarred across my face, and star bursts dotted my vision as I landed on my back on the mattress.
Pinning me with a knee on my chest, Michio reared back to hit me again.
“Wait!” I panted, my face throbbing as my gaze locked on the Drone. “I’ll cooperate. Don’t make him hit me again.”
Michio rose in a blink of fluid motion and stood at the foot of the mattress. It killed me to think about the torment he must’ve felt watching his own fist connect with my face.
I stared up at the glassy eyes that couldn’t meet mine and said, softly, “I’m so sorry, Michio. I won’t make you do that again.”
With numb movements, I adjusted the wrap of fabric to cover my legs and torso. Then I collected the restraints near the wall and snapped the steel shackles around my wrists, each one locking with the sound of defeat.
The four-foot long chains gave me enough room to lie down or stand. Or to strangle the Drone if he came close enough.
But he wasn’t stupid. His guards didn’t carry weapons near me for the same reason he remained on the stool and out of reach.
“I’m restrained now. Can’t go anywhere.” Lying on my back and braced on my elbows, I jerked each arm against the chains to punctuate my point. “Let Michio talk. Give him control of his face or his voice again. Give him something.”
The Drone studied Michio, tapping his fingers together between his knees. “I can’t do that. He’s very…unhappy at the moment.”
Michio was probably detonating inside, which was painful to accept, and so fucking confusing, given the bland look on his model-perfect face.
Even as I despised the Drone for breaching Michio’s privacy, I had to know. “What is he thinking?”
A gruesome smirk rose amid the melted skin of the Drone’s visage. “He’s imagining all the ways he’s going to kill me. It’s sadly barbaric.” Lines formed across his mutilated brow. “And of course, I can hear his pathetic lamentations to hold you, to give you comfort. I’m afraid you’ve ruined him.”
