I ignore the twinge of shame that Laasya feels the need to reassure me and tramp over to take the package. I catch the scent of sweet spice from the bag and a breath of Laasya’s rose perfume. I can smell her sweat beneath it and some kind of herbal shampoo. My sense of smell seems as acute as a dog’s since I woke. She passes me the bottle of water and the flask, but they both remind me how much I need that leak.

“Sorry, I’ve really gotta…” I trail off, indicating the bucket with a sideways nod.

“Oh, yes. Of course,” she says, cheeks pinking, and turns her back.

I shuffle over to the other side of the cage, dumping my lunch on the bed, and after a lot of awkward fumbling, manage to relieve myself in the bucket. Did I really wrench a toilet from the ground and throw it? Talk about Jekyll and Hyde.

When I’m done, I perch on the edge of the bed. The iron shackles cause a funny sort of weakness in my limbs, as if the metal sucks the strength from my muscles. The Flame energy seems to avoid the parts of my body where the iron touches my skin, gathering in my shoulders and hips, causing a tightness at the base of my skull. And I’m sure the iron pressing against my skin is partly responsible for the nausea in my gut.

Laasya turns around again. She must notice me rubbing the back of my neck. “Don’t worry. The commander will Ground you later. Take any discomfort away.”

I give her the barest twitch of a smile. I know she means well, but, yeah, Flanagan touching me again, not a comforting thought. I’d rather endure pain.

After opening the bottle of water, I give my fingers a quick rinse before chugging the rest down in a matter of seconds. It’s fridge-cold and delicious and soothes my sore throat. In the paper bag, I find a chunky beef sandwich. Onion and some kind of jerk sauce hit my taste buds like a sweet fire. My supercharged sense of smell isn’t the only change. Is this another side effect of Alexei’s blood?

“Thanks for the grub,” I say to Laasya around a mouthful.

She’s standing on the other side of the cage door watching me eat, hands shoved into the pockets of her cardigan. “My pleasure. I prepared the beef myself.”

“Yeah? So you’re a cook as well as a witch.”

She gives a self-conscious shrug. “I like cooking, but I don’t really get a lot of time for it these days.”

“Because you’re Flanagan’s witch?”

She nods. “It’s an all-consuming role. The commander doesn’t often go out with us on collections, though. Most of the time Captain Seonu is in charge.”

I grimace. I can’t imagine working every day with Miss Sour Puss or Mr. Happy. “Yeah? And does she ever smile?”

Laasya huffs a laugh. “I know Captain Seonu is pretty severe, but she’s a dedicated soldier. She just doesn’t trust you.”