A set of tools rested on a tray. A wrench and a hammer. A mallet with a black rubber head. Clamps and knives of all sizes. Finer tools with needle-thin points. Dweller tools that shone like icicles.

He had no doubt in his mind what was about to happen to him. But he was prepared for this. He’d known the instant he’d met Sable that this was possible.

The dark-haired man with the silver horns stood by the door. Kirra and a few Guardians as well.

Hess stood closer, next to Sable, his weight shifting from side to side.

“Do I have to stay?” Kirra asked. Her head was bowed, her red hair shielding part of her face.

“Yes, Kirra,” Sable said. “Until I say you can leave.”

Sable fixed his blue eyes on Perry, blinking a few times, staring quietly. Scenting Perry’s temper. “You know why we’re here, don’t you? I warned Cinder. I told him what I wanted. He refused me. Unfortunately, the price of that transgression falls on your shoulders.”

Perry looked to the ceiling, keeping his breath steady. He wanted, more than anything, to endure what would come next without begging. Even when his father beat him as a boy, he’d never begged. He wasn’t going to start now.

“I can’t hurt Cinder physically,” Sable said. “That would be counterproductive. But I can make him understand that until he concedes, he’ll suffer—through you.”

He turned his attention to the table; his hand hovered over pliers before he picked up the mallet. He tested the weight of the tool in his hand.

Perry could tell it was substantial.

“I’m thinking bruises. They’re showy. Not very messy, and—”

“Get on with it,” Perry snapped.

Sable slammed the mallet down on his arm. It struck Perry’s bicep, over his Markings. Bursts of red exploded before his eyes. A sound slipped out of him, like he was lifting a huge weight. He held on, waiting as the pain began to fade.

“There has to be an alternative to this,” Hess said.

“He’s our leverage, Hess, as you said. Our only means of breaking down the boy. And the alternative is that we die. How does that sound to you?”

Hess glanced at the door behind him and fell silent.

“Relax,” said Sable. “I hit him harder than I intended.” He looked back at Perry. “You know I’m being merciful, don’t you? I could find the girl he likes—what’s her name?” he asked Kirra.

“Willow.”

“I could have Willow on this table instead. You wouldn’t choose that, would you?”

Perry shook his head. His throat had gone dry, and his arm had its own heartbeat. “There is one thing you should know,” he said.

Sable’s eyes narrowed. “And what is that?”

“I don’t bruise easily.”