And a very long time to put up with your insolence and bad behavior.”
No… this was impossible. The green floodlight swirled in circles against the concrete walls, creating a sickening effect. I thought I’d been here… a long four years, maybe? I tried to think back to when I’d first come here… all my memories of this place were kind of hazy, not set sharply in my mind. I put my mouth to my hand, trying not to scream. If I had been here ten years… did Fang have Phoenix? Were they safe?
“For all of your crimes, you deserve death!” McCallum went on. “For your insurrection, your hundreds of betrayals. You’ve tried to undermine the state, to create more infidels. For these and your many other crimes, you deserve to die. But it would be too easy to simply kill you.” McCallum didn’t seem to notice that I was one second away from turning into a screaming banshee, and it wasn’t because of his words, or the things I was being accused of. I was still stuck on something else.
Ten years! He must be lying. I swayed on my feet, then quickly righted myself and stood tall, ignoring the floodlights. He was lying about everything—I’d never tried to insurrect here or create infidels. I had no idea what he was talking about. Unexpected tears filled my eyes as I drew sharp, quick breaths in through my fingers. It couldn’t be ten years. Phoenix had been five when we’d been forced to leave her with Rose Simmons, a friend we’d made in what was left of England. To find Rose in that miserable hellhole, the City of the Dead, had been amazing. I hadn’t wanted to leave Phoenix! But Fang could carry me or her. Not both. Not even he could do that, and he was the strongest person I knew.
I’d been dying. I could barely remember it. I remembered crying, trying not to let Phoenix see my broken wing, the blood…
“So instead, we’re going to do what we should have done a long time ago,” McCallum said in a silky whisper, as if to get my attention. “We’re going to cut off your wings.”
CHAPTER 37
The invisible door opened again and ten armed guards marched in, their boots squelching in the slime.
“Turn off those lights,” McCallum said. “This is something I want to savor.”
Something about that flicked some recognition in me, but my mind was still whirling from his ten-years lie (which might be true!) to them wanting to cut off my wings. And then he gives me the gift of ten guards. It was something to focus on. It was something to do.
I felt like beating the hell out of someone, so this should work out.
I let my shoulders drop, keeping my hand over my eyes as if I was about to cry. The guards, unsurprisingly, split in two and moved to surround me. I was as tall as most of them but because of my bird DNA I was incredibly lightweight. These guards could have almost a hundred kilos on me.
I inhaled. McCallum, for once, was quiet.
From behind my fingers, I glanced out, quickly assessing their weak spots. Holy moly, they weren’t even wearing helmets or shin guards. Years of working in a prison full of Opes that were easily manageable had made these guys soft. Sure, they had stun guns—far more powerful than tasers, one hit from a stun gun and I’d drop like a brick. But they had to get close enough to reach me…
“Okay, lady, get over to the table,” one gruff voice said.
I shook my head and sniffled.
Someone moved closer behind me. With no warning, I suddenly dropped and shot my leg out, sweeping it under his legs. He fell with a satisfying oof, and I stomped on his knee, feeling the break. The joint cracked under my heel, the sound just as loud as McCallum’s stupid voice. He coiled up, screaming in pain.
Nine stun guns were pulled. I did a handstand, kicking away two guns. They flew through the air and fell with a clatter five meters away.
Rough hands tried to grab me, but these prison clothes were super loose, making it easy to wiggle away. Two more guards came at me. Springing up, I chopped my hand down in a ridge strike, aiming for one’s gun arm. I heard delicate human arm bones break—so satisfying after thinking about my broken wing, all those years ago (but not ten! Surely not ten!)—and a guard