The Sullivans were the closest thing to a family I had. Even when I signed the contract to join Black Star, I knew they would be the only people besides my sister to be outraged at my death.
“I think you just pissed him off,” Knox says.
“Well, I?—”
Just before I can finish the thought, a car crashes into our side, and we careen off the road.
A scream escapes me as the truck flips on its head. And then there is only darkness.
Bright lights flash from above, twinkling like stars. My wrists are bound in iron with a long chain that is latched to the bars of a dirt-stained window. My head throbs, pain pulsing behind my eyes, and I wince at the sound of muffled voices.
It takes far too long for my vision to clear.
“Mercy. Mercy.”
I turn my head. Knox is tied to the door across the room. His eyes are tense with worry.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Like we just got hit by a car.”
“Listen, I can’t?—”
The door opens before he can finish his sentence. A woman enters, her face hidden behind a theatre mask. One designed like a roaring lion. I expect her attention to go to Knox, but her gaze is fixed on me.
“The High General’s daughter,” she says. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“You too,” I say. “I’d shake your hand, but…” I lift my bound wrists in a shrug.
She doesn’t laugh. Tough crowd.
“What did you do to me?” Knox demands, straining against his restraints. “I can’t feel my power.”
The woman lifts a small black remote.
“This nullifies your abilities,” she says calmly. “Anyone with the Bind can be controlled this way. All your senior officers carry one to keep their soldiers in line.”
Knox’s face drains of color. “How did you get that?”
“We have our resources.”
My pulse spikes. She has to be a rebel. Excitement sparks through me despite the fear. Maybe she knew my mother. Maybe she can tell me about her. And I can share everything I’ve learned at the Forge. It might interest them to know that I am part of a covert unit.
She walks towards me, stopping inches away from my boots. Her voice drops, cold and deliberate, and I press back against the chains.
“Mercy Warrick,” she says. “Always at your father’s side. His companion at every important dinner. I suspect the bastard might even love you.”
Love? The thought catches me off guard. Warrick did spend more time with Mercy than he ever did with me. But he was incapable of affection. At best, he tolerated my sister.
“Warrick isn’t capable of love,” I say slowly. “Unless you count his love for status and wealth.”
Her head tilts. “You are amusing. It is a shame you must be used this way.”
“Used for what?”
“Your father holds a high-value prisoner,” she says. “One we want. We will grant you your freedom in exchange for him.”
I laugh, tossing my head back at her statement.
