His words reach me from very far away, whispered through a tunnel. “Our intention for the serum is to keep you safe, Briana, not to hurt you. Not a punishment, and not permanent. Else we could not administer it. Guard Ramirez, however, is paying the price because he knowingly took action with the intent to injure you. He meant to cause you harm. A critical distinction.” Erebus crouches beside me, dips his hand behind my skull, then curses. Blood coats his fingers, shining and dark. He growls, “Bring Sitterson as well!”

William?

The van swims again.

Time passes. How much, I’m not sure. The ceiling blurs.

Another pinch to my arm. A needle slipping into my vein. I don’t flinch; this pain seems beyond minimal compared to the searing hot ache at the back of my skull. A woozy, sickening sensation starts at my arm and floods up my shoulders to my spine—and then I’m drained. Something leaves me. Not energy, not quite. Something of my life that was in my limbs and flowed from my heart. Something that I had gotten used to feeling, even in that short time since Arthur Awakened. Gone now. I shiver.

A bright, citrus aether signature in my nose accompanies the achy, itchy feeling of my skull knitting back together.

“Bree?” William’s shaking voice, and a warm palm on my cheek. “You had a small fracture… a concussion… should be healed soon.”

“You’re not here to chitchat, Sitterson.” Ramirez, voice shaking with anger. “If they botched the formula and she overdoses, you bring her back. That’s it.”

My eyes open to find William hovering over me. He shines a flashlight into my left eye—it hurts. I squint, moaning. Light shines in my right, William holding my head still so I don’t turn away. Then the flashlight’s gone. He shoots a glare over his shoulder. “I have no idea what to expect or what to heal even if she does react poorly. I repair injuries, not… whatever your scientists have done here. This is beyond irresponsible! You didn’t need to drug her—”

“Not my call, and not yours either,” Max cuts him off.

“I swear to you, Maxwell…” William’s voice turns to iron. “You will pay for this.”

“Doubt it.” Max sniffs. “Is she stable or not?”

“She is stable.” William’s eyes close, and he takes a deep breath before opening them. “For now.”

“Then get out, Scion.”

William’s voice at my ear, his breath against my cheek. “I’m so sorry, Bree.”

Then darkness once more.

15

“GOOD MORNING, BRIANA.”

I blink the small room into existence.

I am wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt I don’t recognize.

The back of my skull feels like one big bruise.

I am sitting in a chair at a table.