Chapter 34 · Whispers from the Maw

"Don't touch the door, Jace." Vera's hand clamped around my wrist before my claws reached the red latch.

The metal burned under my fingertips. Not hot. Hungry. It pulled at the black lines under my skin like it knew exactly where to bite.

I jerked free. "Move."

"That's not a request you get to make."

"Then make me stop."

Her pistol pressed beneath my jaw.

The barrel did not shake. Vera never shook when she was scared. She just moved closer, close enough that the heat of her palm stayed on my wrist and her breath brushed the side of my face.

"You open that door," she said, "and the farm pumps gas into this room. You breathe it, you drop. I breathe it, I drop. Your little friend in the vent gets a face full too."

A tiny scrape came from above us.

Pip went silent.

I bared my teeth. "You planned this."

"I planned not to die in a clone pen. Big difference."

Behind the glass, one of the bodies twitched.

Then another.

They were shaped like me, if someone had built me from broken parts and bad guesses. Four limbs. Black hide stretched over uneven muscle.