Chapter 16 · A Deal with the Devil

"Down. Now."

Sela didn't scream it. She didn't have to. The pressure of her boot against the back of my neck was enough to pin my face into the grit of the warehouse floor. The smell of old oil and copper filled my nose. I could feel the heat radiating off her leg, the leather of her boot pressing into my skin with a cold, calculated precision.

"I'm not really in a kneeling mood today," I grunted, my voice muffled by the dirt.

"You're in whatever mood I tell you you're in," she snapped. I felt her shift her weight, grinding the heel deeper. "You just tore through three of my best scouts like they were made of wet paper. Now, you're going to tell me exactly what that thing inside you is, or I'll start breaking your fingers one by one until you can't even hold a spoon."

I let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "You think you can leash me? Look at me, Sela. I'm a dead man walking. What are you going to do? Kill me again?"

She yanked my hair back, forcing my head up.