A stranger’s voice echoes through the room. “Oh my God. What the hell? Contact the commander,” he shouts. “Now.”

Chapter 14

14

“Channeler… Channeler.” A female voice, cool fingers tapping my face. “I think he’s coming round.”

Light flickers. Colors gather and solidify into two figures. As I pull my attention from a vague blur, I’m assaulted by body-wide heat and agony. Fire scorches along my spine. Pressure crowds my head. A sunburn sensation cooks every inch of my skin.

“Too hot,” I croak.

“I know. It’s Flame Fever. Commander Flanagan is on his way. He’ll help you.” I recognize the dry Japanese accent now. It’s Captain Seonu, the fierce black-bobbed scowler with sky-blue eyes.

I peer at her through a red fog. I’m still in manacles, suspended from the ceiling in the same kneeling position, thighs wide, arms above my head. Every joint aches.

Seonu crouches in front of me, examining my face, her long black eyebrows drawn tight. She smells of leather and peppermint. Laasya stands beside her, face crumpled with worry.

It’s twilight. The two windows show star-speckled blue outside. The soldiers’ bodies are gone. Only pools of blood remain, shiny and black in the honeyed light flickering from the oil lamps on every wall.

How long have I been hanging here? I’m still mostly naked, my Flame-fueled boner sticking out like a flagpole. Someone has tied a shirt around my waist to maintain my dignity, but I’m in far too much agony to give a shit about that anyway.

“You’re safe now,” Laasya reassures.

Safe? I don’t think so. I’ll never feel safe here. Especially not while wearing chains and a collar. I try to ask a question, but my sand-dry mouth won’t work, and I end up croaking out a moan.

“Here,” Laasya says. She holds my chin up with gentle fingers and places a bottle of water to my lips. I glug its contents like a desert survivor. My tugging swallows spill the water across her hand. The liquid sloshes into my stomach with a welcome cooling sensation. When I’ve drunk as much as I can, Laasya pulls away, and my head flops forward, not enough strength in my neck to hold it upright.

“Will he be okay, Captain?” Laasya sounds anxious.

“I don’t know. I wish I understood what happened. I do know if we don’t lower this Flame Fever, he’ll burn out his nervous system. This Haze will certainly last a few days.”

“Can’t Sergeant Mason help?”

“He tried—it was too much for him.”

“But the Sergeant’s a Class 6 Grounder?”

“Exactly. If Michael can hold too much Flame for a Class 6 to handle, what the hell kind of Class is he?” She smoothly rises and steps back. I want her hands on my face again. I need touch, my body yearns for it, even more than it longs for cold.