The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2)

disobey. I gulped in a whooping breath, spluttered spit down my chin. Prium thumbed a speck off his cheek.
“Now do that again, but count to five.”
I did as he said. My lungs spasmed and protested, but I managed to fill them. I thought I might faint or puke up my breakfast, but Prium hadn’t answered my question. I sat holding my breath, trembling like a leaf, and my world was just but. Your sister did return to us, but...
I couldn’t feel my legs.
“Breathe out.” Prium was smiling again, a bright, cheery grin. He was enjoying this, I realized—basking in my terror. I breathed out anyway and felt a little steadier.
“Your sister is fine,” said Prium. He glanced at his watch. “She should be sleeping by now, but I assure you she’s safe. She’s been—”
I grayed out for a moment, all loose with relief. Fine. Safe. Sleeping. Prium’s voice went deep and sloshy, like he’d dipped underwater, or I had. I grinned without meaning to. I felt light as a feather.
“Miss Hyde.” Prium’s good humor seemed to desert him. He leaned back, looking bored. “Did you hear me? She’s back with your parents, enjoying all the comforts of home. Wouldn’t you like to join her?”
I sucked in a quick, wary breath. The question felt like a trap. “I—”
“Of course you would.” Prium chuckled. “The things you must have seen, must have done to survive—oh, I dread to think.” He licked his lips again, like he didn’t dread it one bit. Like he relished the idea. “You were stupid,” he said. “Bad enough you risked your own life, but to risk Lock’s as well—” He tsked at me. “What were you doing at the vent?”
“I followed the tracks,” I said. It came out snippy, and Prium’s eyes narrowed.
“The tracks?”
I sought calm within myself, in the memory of Ben’s eyes, how they’d burned warm with lamplight, deep in the caves. I was angry—no, furious—now I knew Ona was safe. Prium was a bully, a mean little man. I’d let him get to me, and I wanted to scream. “The buggy tracks,” I said. “I thought if Ona was out there, she’d be... where Decemites go.”
“And you’re lucky you found one. Luckier than you know.” Prium’s smile widened, too toothy by far. “Have you seen what happens to your kind, left to wander?”
I ducked my head. “You mean the mutants?”
“The rebels have other names for them. Freaks. Ghouls. Deadheads.” He toyed with his cufflink, twiddling it between his fingers. His eyes had gone empty, faraway. “They’re not dead, though,” he said. “Not all the way through. They still respond to sensation, to touch, to heat. To pain. I’ve wondered how that must feel, rotting away piece by piece. It’s a shame they can’t speak, really. So many questions they could answer.”
I kept my head down, studying the backs of my hands. I’d had it with Prium, him and his casual sadism. I willed him to stop talking, just cough up my punishment and get out of my face. He snapped his fingers for my attention.
“They sicken you. I can see that. They make me sick, too.” He stood and turned away from me, hands clasped behind his back. “Even the Decemites get squeamish around them—but not Lock. Just think, had he not found you... those teeth. Those claws.”
I manufactured a whimper. Teeth. Claws. Sure.
“That’s why he’s so valuable,” said Prium. “And that’s what makes your transgression so severe, putting him in harm’s way.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. It came out harsh, like a curse. Prium didn’t seem to notice. He circled around me, heels clicking on the concrete.
“Lock’s described your captivity,” he said. “You must be desperate for a bath. A warm blanket.” He dropped his hands on my shoulders and squeezed. He squeezed harder when I shuddered, finding pressure points under my skin. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
I squirmed where I sat, swallowing bile. I knew what he was waiting for—details, the kind I’d never give.
“Myla?”
“I don’t want to remember,” I whispered. Lock’s words echoed in my head—persuade ‘em you’re loyal. Do that, and we’ll live. My eyes pricked with tears, and I let them fall. “Lock told me, when they took us, that they’re brigands and killers. I didn’t want to believe him, but it’s... true.”
Prium said nothing. I hung my head.
“I was stupid,” I said. “I made a horrible mistake. If I could take it back, I would. Tell Lock I’m sorry.”
“Tell him yourself.” Prium’s grip went slack. “I could punish you, but why bother? Our rebel friends seem to have done a fine job of that.” He leaned close and twined his fingers through my hair. His nails grazed my scalp, and I bit back a cry. “Would you like to go home?” he asked.
I nodded, too eagerly. My hair pulled and tore.
“You’d be watched closely. You couldn’t speak of what you saw, not even to your parents.”
“I wouldn’t. Not a word.”
Prium brushed a tear from my lashes. I held my breath. This was the part where he’d rip the rug out from under me. Clench his fist in my hair and twist hard. Laugh in my face—
“Your sister has quite the silver tongue,” he said. He let me go with a chuckle. “Made me swear I’d be kind to you, before she spilled her guts.”
“Before she—” I choked on the lump in my throat.
“You’ll see her soon.” He reached for his gloves and tugged them back on. “I’d escort you home, but I’ve business elsewhere.”
I let myself slump where I sat. Prium left, and the guards came back. One of them unfastened my shackles, hands first, then feet. I stayed where I was, arms dangling at my sides.
“Well? What’re you waiting for? Go.”
I wasn’t sure I could stand, but when I did, my legs were steady. I walked out without stumbling, head held high. I went the wrong way at first, back toward the cells, and instead of turning back, I stopped to gather myself, back pressed