Page 47 of Petrified

Lev stops walking. “You really did build the kidnapping van.”

“It is a containment transport,” Gerald says.

“That is the expensive version of kidnapping van.”

I look past the open rear doors and see the restraints, the monitoring ports, and the ward lines worked into the interior walls. Nothing about the setup is temporary or improvised. “You built this for us.”

Gerald meets my eyes. “I built it for the bond.”

“That isn't better.”

Rowan shifts closer to Lev, but Gerald gestures toward the open transport before he can say anything else. “You will remain together. The ward is calibrated to prevent shifting and uncontrolled magical discharge without interfering with the bond.”

Lev’s mouth tightens. “You keep saying bond when what you mean is useful condition.”

Gerald doesn't answer, and that silence tells me more than anything else could.

The ward tightens before any of us can decide whether fighting here is worth what it would do to Medusa and the rest of the quarry. My knees nearly buckle when my Basilisk pushes against it, and the agents use the opening to lock warded cuffs around Rowan and me before either of us can shift. Lev stays between us because Gerald will not risk disrupting the bond, but there is nothing voluntary about the way they move all three of us toward the reinforced vehicle.

Once they have us inside the transport, the warded cuffs stay locked around all three of us. Magic hums through mine, and when I test it once, the ward tightens around my Basilisk in response.

“Reactive,” I say, looking down at the clasp. “Magic first, physical resistance second.”

Rowan studies his own restraint. “So we break it without giving it what it expects.”

Lev tips his head toward me. “I appreciate that we're already discussing how to ruin the van.”

Gerald climbs in across from us and closes the doors behind him. He doesn't restrain himself, which tells me everything I need to know about how much control he thinks he has.

The drive lasts twenty-three minutes. I count every turn while Lev keeps one hand pressed against mine and Rowan keeps his knee against Lev’s thigh. Gerald watches us the entire time without asking questions, and nobody gives him anything worth recording.

The building we arrive at isn't a hidden laboratory. It is worse because I recognize Essence architecture immediately. Gerald converted something that already existed, which means he has had the access and authority to build this under the agency without anyone stopping him.

We are taken through a side entrance and down one level into a room that makes Lev go still beside me. There are no white coats or surgical tables, but there are three containment stations, a glass observation wall, magical sensors built into the floor and ceiling, and enough monitoring equipment to make the purpose obvious.

“Well,” Lev says quietly. “That is deeply fucking upsetting.”

I study the layout before anyone can move us into position. The central station is for Lev. Rowan and I are set on either side, close enough that the bond can stay intact and far enough that none of us can touch him once the restraints are secured.

“You measured the spacing,” I say, looking from my station to Rowan’s and then to Lev’s in the center. “You put us close enough to keep him stable, but far enough apart that none of us can touch once the restraints lock.”

Gerald meets my eyes without hesitation. “The distance is deliberate. Proximity maintains his baseline, while direct contact produces a stronger correction after magical strain, and I need to be able to distinguish between the two.”

Lev looks between the three stations and then back at him, his expression sharpening. “You built a whole fucking room around how our bond works, and somehow you still think calling it research makes it less creepy.”

“I built it around what the bond requires,” Gerald says, as though the distinction should matter. Rowan answers with a low growl and shifts closer to Lev before the team moves in to secure us.

The restraints close around my wrists and chest while leaving my feet free, and Rowan gets the same arrangement across from me. He resists just enough to make two agents brace his station while a third locks the final clasp, and Lev watches every hand that comes near either of us with the kind of attention that promises consequences later.

“If one of them gets stupid with either of them, Rowan is going to make your insurance situation very complicated,” Lev tells Gerald as the center restraints lock around him. His eyes follow Gerald when he steps closer carrying two narrow sensor bands. “And if those involve needles, I'm biting somebody.”

“There will be no invasive procedure,” Gerald says while fastening the bands around Lev’s forearms. “They measure magical output and changes in designation presentation.”

Lev looks down at them and then around the room again. “You keep finding technically accurate ways to say things that make this worse.”

Gerald returns to the console and activates the system, bringing three magical signatures onto the monitors. Mine and Rowan’s hold relatively steady, while Lev’s shifts every time his attention moves between us, then begins settling when Rowan leans toward him from one side and I move as close as my restraint allows from the other.

Gerald watches the lines normalize with an expression that is far too satisfied for my liking. “This is what I have been trying to quantify. Both bonded signatures within range stabilize him, while direct contact produces a stronger effect and faster recovery after magical strain.”