IS AURORA JIE-LIN O’MALLEY?”
“Tyler Jones. Alph—”
The rest of my words are strangled as the collar kicks in again. A groan slips through my teeth. My whole body shakes. I try to think calming thoughts, try to convince myself this isn’t real. But though the logical part of my brain knows this is just nerve induction, just the illusion of pain, the reptile part is screaming. The skin is being flayed off my body with rusted knives, sandpaper is being scraped against raw muscle, blunt chisels are being jammed between my vertebrae, blood and spinal fluid are spilling down m—
The pain stops. A moment of shining, unspeakable relief.
“WHERE IS AURORA JIE-LIN O’MALLEY?”
I breathe deep. Close my eyes. Pray to the Maker for strength.
“T-Tyler J—”
And so we go.
I lose track of time.
I lose count of the flips of that switch.
I know I make it to Level 2 before I start screaming.
I start roaring at them to stop, stop, Maker’s breath, stop, at Level 3.
They don’t stop till 4.
“WHERE IS AURORA JIE-LIN O’MALLEY?”
“I don’t know!”
I thrash weakly against the bonds holding me, just to have something to rage against. I taste copper on my tongue, spit blood on the floor. I realize my screams must have ruptured my vocal cords.
“WHERE IS AURORA JIE-LIN O’MALLEY?” Princeps repeats, maddening.
“I don’t KNOW!” I roar, my voice hoarse and broken. “The location we were headed was on the Hephaestus black box! I never saw the data!”
Another impossible lance of pain.
Another bloody, spit-flecked scream.
“THIS CAN ALL END, LEGIONNAIRE JONES.”
Again.
“SIMPLY TELL US THE TRUTH.”
And again.
“WHERE IS AURORA JIE-LIN O’MALLEY?”
And again.
“I’M TELLING YOU I DON’T KNOW!”
And then it stops. Just like that. I feel vertigo. Delirium. Every second I spend without more of that pain seems like a blessing from the Maker, and I pray for blackness, for sleep, for an end to it all. But then … then I feel a gentle hand touching my bare shoulder. Soft lips press against the burning skin of my forehead, cool as ice, relief washing over me like spring rain.
“You always did love being the hero,” someone says.
I open my eyes. Blink through the sting of sweat, all the world blurring. And I know I’m dreaming then. That I’ve lost consciousness, or maybe I’m dead, because the face I see in front of me can’t be real, can’t be real
can’t
be
“… C-Cat?”
She smiles. Her dark hair is styled in the same undercut fauxhawk. The same phoenix tattoo is at her throat. The same pretty face, sharp chin, bow-shaped lips.
“Oh, Tyler,” Cat whispers, caressing my cheek. “My beautiful Tyler.”
I feel a sob, strangled, trying to bubble up and out of my bleeding throat. The relief I feel at seeing her, the tumbled crash of emotions, joy, love, disbelief, comfort, all of it threatens to just drag me under and drown me. It’s not too late, I realize. The way we ended it … all the things I should’ve said and done …
But then I realize she’s wearing the charcoal-gray GIA uniform, same as the others. That she has a mirrormask tucked under her arm. Glancing to my left, I realize the agent who stood there a moment ago is missing, and through the blur, through the haze, through the rising despair and anger and fear, I realize that she … she was the one who slipped the pain collar around my neck. And worse—worse than the pain they’ve put me through or the agony of seeing her again after I thought she was lost, worst of all is the moment when I focus on her eyes, fixed now on mine. Because the Cat I knew, the Cat I loved … that Cat’s eyes were brown.
This one’s are blue. Faintly luminous.
And her irises are shaped like flowers.
“No,” I breathe. “Oh no …”
“You don’t understand, Tyler.”
She’s …
I look at Princeps. Back at the thing wearing Cat. A wave of horror and fury washes over me, through me, drenching me to the bone.
“You’re one of them,” I whisper.
“I am them,” she murmurs, touching my bare chest, right over my breaking heart. “They are me. I am we, Tyler. All of us.”
“Maker,” I whisper. “Oh Maker, what have they done to you?”
She shakes her head and smiles, looks at me like I’m a child. “It’s warm in here, Ty. It’s wonderful. It’s full and it’s complete and it’s home. I’ve never been so loved or accepted. Never felt so real. I can’t wait for you to feel it, too.”
She leans forward, and the horror that washes over me