Cat raised her eyebrows and turned to Jack, now standing beside her.
“Why would I throw away a useful tool, even if there are other options?” Jack said, fingering the chain of the pocket watch. His hair seemed silver in the moonlight shining in through the window. “She’s learned her lesson. If we need her again, I’m quite sure she’ll comply.”
Cat shook her head. “But—”
odded, and the satisfaction on his face chilled me to my soul.
“The question-and-answer session is over.” Cat kept the muzzle of the gun pointed at Michael and me. “You said you brought the computer disk back. Where is it?”
“I’m not sure,” I hedged. “A lot has happened since—”
“Don’t play with me.”
Cat took aim and pulled the trigger.
The glass doors to Liam’s bookcase exploded into shards as Michael turned to shield me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and braced for another shot, wishing my body were big enough to protect him instead of the other way around.
When the gun remained silent, I opened my eyes to assess the damage. I had to choke back a sob. The side of Michael’s neck was covered in tiny lacerations, blood dotting his skin.
“Surely you understand the gravity of the situation,” Cat said over the sound of the last pieces of tinkling glass hitting the floor. “I want the computer disk with the exotic matter formula and I want it now. Where is it?”
“Catherine. Be patient,” Jack said casually, as if he were discussing dinner plans. A beatific smile spread across his face like slow poison. “I’m sure I can convince Emerson to divulge that particular information.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” Cat demanded.
“Making Emerson whole again made life better for all of us. She knows that. Which is why she’ll cooperate now that she has a chance to do so.” Jack spoke to Cat, but his eyes were on me. His answer almost sounded sensual as it slipped off his tongue. “If she doesn’t, I could always give her the pain back.”
I swallowed convulsively as the bile rose in my throat. He was talking about his collateral.
Michael reached out for my hand.
“No.” I struggled not to sound like I was pleading when I really just wanted to drop to my knees and beg. “I didn’t ask you to do what you did. You can’t make me help you … because of some … sick and twisted idea about what I owe you.”
Jack’s answering smile broadcast his tolerance, as if I were merely misbehaving instead of telling him no. “I did what I did because it was necessary. Consequences be damned.”
“Consequences,” Michael said under his breath. “All this traveling you’ve been doing—changing things. It’s had an effect, hasn’t it? The space-time con—”
“Is fine. We’re talking about the formula now.” Jack’s voice was dismissive. He stepped away from Cat, moving closer to me. “Are there memories you can’t live without, Emerson? Those of your parents, healthy and alive? Of who you are at all? Or do you want me to return some of the more … unpleasant ones? The time in the hospital? The agony, the grief? Did you really believe it was simply mind-numbing?”
The thought of more pain than I’d experienced already was almost too much to take. Then Michael squeezed my hand, reminding me that if pain came, I wouldn’t have to deal with it alone.
“It doesn’t matter what you say.” I took a deep breath and looked Jack dead in the eye. “I won’t give you the computer disk. I can’t hand you the power to hurt anyone else.”
As quickly as a lightning strike, Jack was beside me.
Michael tried to step between us, and Cat shoved the gun under his chin. He let go of my hand as he prepared to strike, his intent to fight for control clear. I cried out.
“Michael, don’t.” Tears escaped to journey down my cheeks. I looked into his eyes, begging. “I need you on the other side of this.”
If I survive it.
He stopped cold. The pain began.
I held Michael’s face in my mind’s eye as my ears filled with the same rush of air that overtook me when Kaleb tried to take my pain. This time the sound pushed its way into my brain. I cried out, my body sliding to the ground in bone-crushing agony as memories flooded my mind.
The slow slide of the shuttle bus, wrapping itself around a tree. Fire, calls for help, the smell of burning flesh and the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth. I knew I was screaming; I could hear myself. I couldn’t stop.
The visions kept coming. Squeaky metal wheels on a hospital distribution cart, bringing endless trays of food that went back untouched. My arms, looking as if someone had draped skin over my bones. My body, insignificant under the covers, as if it belonged to a small child.