Something inside me twisted. The earrings. I knew there was something odd about them. "Did they say why?"
"No." Again he hesitated. "Not exactly. They just said you needed them on so that controlling you was easier."
Controlling me? Or controlling my wolf and other gifts?
I swerved over to the side of the road and stopped the truck. Dust flew around us as the tires skidded on the uneven shoulder. "Open the glove compartment and see if there's a knife in there."
He didn't move. "Get the wire off my neck, Hanna. Fair is fair."
He was right. I motioned him to turn around. He did so, and lifted his hair so I could get to the knot at the back easier. His neck was raw and weeping, and guilt spun through me. I really should have taken it off earlier.
I reached for the wire, but the minute my fingertips touched it, blue sparks erupted. I jerked my hand away and glanced at my fingertips. They were burned.
"What's wrong?" Evin said, voice sharp.
"It would appear I'm extremely sensitive to silver. Wait here."
I climbed out of the cab and into the bed at the back, quickly flipping open the tool box. There was a wire cutter sitting on the top, but that was next to useless - the silver was sitting too tightly against Evin's neck to risk using it. I pushed the tools around and found not only a pair of gloves but also a switchblade. I grabbed them both, then jumped back into the truck.
I pulled on the gloves then cautiously touched the wire. Even through the gloves I could feel the heat of the silver, but it wasn't hot enough to stop me from undoing the wire.
Evin jerked away the minute the wire was loose enough and quickly rubbed his raw neck. "Fuck, that stuff burns."
I chucked the wire out the door then slammed it shut. "I gather you've never had an encounter with silver before?"
"No. But I take it you have?"
"I've been shot by the stuff so many times I'm now super-sensitive to it." I flicked open the switchblade and studied the point. It was certainly sharp enough to do the job. After a moment, I became aware of Evin's heated stare. "What?"
"Did you even hear what you just said?"
I smiled. "Yes. And no, I can't explain it, beyond the fact that I'm involved on some level with the Directorate."
"Then whoever is behind all this is playing a mighty dangerous game. Even I know you don't fuck around with Directorate people. Not if you value your life."
"Which is probably why he gave me another identity. Then he could kill me without raising any alarms."
"As I said before, this whole situation is fucked." He gave the knife point a somewhat dubious look. "I take it you want me to take the earrings out of your ears."
"I tried taking them off the first time I had a shower. They wouldn't budge. Cutting them out seems to be my only option."
He took the knife somewhat gingerly. "It'll hurt."
I shrugged. "I'm tough."
"I'm beginning to realize that," he muttered, then motioned me to turn around.
I did so, reaching across with one hand and sweeping the short strands of my hair out of the way. His touch on my ear was light and firm.
"It does feel like they're embedded," he commented. "Don't jerk away when I cut or I might just tear your lobe off."
"I won't."
Cold metal touched my ear, slicing into my flesh. Evin's touch was surprisingly delicate, and the cut didn't hurt all that much. After a few seconds, the blade was gone and his fingers were pulling at my ear. Something dropped onto the seat between us and bounced onto the floor of the truck.
"Other one," Evin said.
I resisted the impulse to reach down and grab whatever had fallen out and twisted around on the seat, so that he could reach my right ear. He repeated the process, but this time, he had to pry the thing out of my ear. It felt like it was being pulled out of my ear canal rather than my lobe, a sensation that had my stomach rising and my head spinning.