Chapter 9 · Lesson in Choking

Chapter 9: Lesson in Choking

"Get up." Kane's voice came from somewhere above the ringing in my skull.

I tasted copper. The glass cage walls threw my own blurred reflection back at me, flat on the mat where his last throw put me. My shoulder screamed. I got up anyway.

"That's twice," he said. "You're slow tonight."

"I'm slow because you still haven't told me who put a tracker under my skin."

His jaw ticked. He'd been like this since the river, since he'd torn my shirt open under the bridge and found that green pulse over my collarbone. Furious and controlled in a way that scared me more than yelling would've. He hadn't touched me since. He'd just put me in this cage, under the bright lights, in front of no one, and started hitting.

"Someone got close enough to mark you," he said. "Close. Not a drive-by dart. Skin contact, minimum four seconds, no struggle on your end." He circled, bare feet silent on the mat. "So either you tell me who, or we find out what your body remembers that your mouth won't say."

"That's insane."

"That's training.