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Deviance
9. Genet

9. Genet

I stared at the empty socket at my right wrist where my prosthetic hand had been. Curse them for figuring that out. That had been my last weapon, not that it would have gotten me far. The bars of my cell were damn solid, and the little blade built into my hand wouldn’t have done much good with the lock. At least they’d bothered to have a doctor stitch up my back, so that made up for the missing hand at least a little. They probably needed me alive for questioning.

If they didn’t get around to it soon, they’d miss their chance. Gradis was old-fashioned and refused to get even a stationary tablet, but Nal would probably reach him in a few hours if he’d left right after throwing me to the wolves. Actually, he was probably taking his sweet fucking time. It wasn’t like him to give up sleep unless it was an emergency. So, tonight, then. I had until tonight to wallow in misery before the end.

I started shaking and gasping, but I forced my lungs to take deep breaths. I would not die a blubbering mess.

Water dripped from the corner of my cell into a little puddle on the floor. It must have been raining. Plink, plink, plink. That was going to drive me up the wall if I had to listen to it all day. Maybe I’d die an insane mess, instead.

The skinny middle-aged man in the cell across from me snored so hard he woke himself up. Not even the commotion I’d made last night had done that. He stretched with a huge yawn before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He startled when he noticed me watching him.

“When’d you get here?” he asked.

“Last night.”

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“Really? Huh. What’re you in for?”

“Murdering the emperor.”

He stared at me for a second, then burst out laughing. “That’s a good one.” His smile vanished when I didn’t react. “Wait, you’re serious. You’re fucking mad, kid.”

“The emperor’s dead?” asked another man I couldn’t see. “Good riddance.”

“Yeah, I won’t argue with that,” the older man said. “But you know they’re going to interview you, right?”

“I figured,” I said.

“No, no, you don’t figure shit. We’re going to have to listen to—”

The dungeon’s door screeched open, then a woman and a man in black uniforms stopped in front of my cell. “Stand and approach,” the woman said.

I raised an eyebrow and didn’t budge. She pushed some button beside my cell door, and the little cuff they’d locked around my wrist released a shock that had me falling onto the damp stone floor.

“Fuck, okay!” I shook my arm out and moved toward the door.

“Put your hand through the door.”

I glared at her but did as she said this time.

The man with her grabbed my wrist, shoved up my sleeve, and before I could resist, he stuck a syringe into my arm.

I yanked my arm back through the bars. “What the fuck?” The injection site ached, and I rubbed at it with my stump. But the feeling only spread, and fast. I dropped to the floor screaming as my veins burned.

“Why did you murder the emperor?” the woman shouted over me.

“I don’t know!” I wheezed.

“Answer my questions, and you get the antidote.”

“My orders!”

“Whose orders?”

“Gradis!”

“And who is that?”

“He’s—” I screamed again as I curled onto my side, clutching my arms across my chest. “He’s nobody!”

She scoffed. “Nobody. Who does this nobody work for?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“And you have no idea why he sent you?”

“No!”

“Useless.” They walked away, leaving me writhing on the floor. No antidote.

“Gods,” the old man said. “Sorry, kid. Just, I don’t know, try to breathe.”

I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but no words came out. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I passed out.