Chapter 46
F-Psy have some of the highest rates of insanity among our race.
It’s because so many of us can see catastrophic events without the power to change them. And so we just bear witness to terror over and over again until our brains can no longer take it.
If the change to the Silence Protocol can alter that, if it can give me a good night’s sleep and take away my unending fear . . . I’ll be voting yes.
—Excerpt from “Insanity Is Our Destiny” by Anonymous F-8.3 (5 January 1977)
“I DON’T HAVE internal injuries, Theo mine.” Despite his words, Yakov didn’t stop her from pushing up the T-shirt he’d pulled on. “Couple bruises on my back and shoulders, that’s about it.”
Throat dry and perspiration breaking out over her skin, she finished scanning his abdominal area. Smooth, hard muscle, and flawless skin. “Your back.” The words came out on top of each other. “I need to see your back.”
He turned, didn’t stop her from pushing up his T-shirt there, too.
A little light bruising, one spot darker—as if he’d been hit by a sharp and pointed object, and that was it.
“Internal injuries,” she repeated as he began to turn around. “We should take you to a medic. Where’s my phone? I need to—”
A big hand clasped her wrist, squeezed. “Theo, I’m no novice when it comes to physical injuries. I know exactly the kind of hits I took tonight—trust me, there’s no chance of internal bleeding.” He thrust the hot nutrient drink in her hand. “You can examine me as much as you like after you drink this.”
Heart thunder, she nonetheless took several big gulps. “I hurt people in the rages,” she blurted out. “That was a bad one. Even my reprimand device didn’t work to stop it.”
“What the hell is a reprimand device?” Yakov said, and Theo couldn’t help her eyes going to the reddened marks on her wrist. “Bozhe, Theo. Was it the bracelet? It what? Electrocutes you?”
“In a way.” It would take too long to explain how she’d based it off the machine her grandfather had used in an attempt to train the rages out of her. “Only enough to snap me out of the spiral so I can get to a private place. It can’t hold back the rage, but it can give me a few minutes to make sure I don’t break down in public.”
Putting the half-finished drink on the counter, she rubbed her hand over her naked wrist. “I pulled too much of Pax’s power today. The bracelet wasn’t strong enough. I’ll make the next iteration unbreakable even by a 9.”
Yakov banged a fist on the counter, so hard that the glass of nutrients skittered to the left. “That fucking thing is never coming anywhere near you again.”
Theo was feeling fragile and guilty—but she wasn’t about to allow this bear to walk all over her. “No.”
Yakov growled. “That thing hurts you. You put it on again and I will take it away. Every. Fucking. Time.”
“It protects me from hurting others . . . and from humiliation . . . Most of the time.” Suddenly deflating, she slumped against the side of the counter. “That was the worst one yet. I’m devolving, just like Grandfather predicted.”
“You stop that thinking right now.” His gaze on her face, his expression going soft before he hauled her into his arms. “We need to talk. But not now. It’s after midnight, and you’re exhausted. In the morning, on the drive.”
She swallowed, almost wanting him to push so she could get this over with—but after the rage came the crash. Her legs were already shaky, her fingers trembling. “In the morning,” she agreed. “What time should I set my alarm?”
“Don’t you worry about that. I’ll be your alarm.” He pulled back so he could look at her face. “Unless you want to sleep alone tonight? In that case, I’ll take the couch.”
“No, stay,” she said without hesitation.
Her reward was a smile that creased his cheeks, lit up his eyes. For a split second, she fell back into that time before the rage. Then he shifted to grab the glass of nutrients so she could finish it, and she saw the bite mark again.
Reality crashed into her with the force of a ten-ton truck.
She’d hurt Yakov, the one person aside from Pax who had ever mattered to her. And still she’d hurt him. Would’ve probably killed him if he wasn’t a bear.
Murder and evil, it was in her blood.
In her genes.
She was a Marshall, after all.
YAKOV dreamed again that night, a dream of blood and fear.
He saw Theo fall to her knees, her hands rising to clasp her throat as she fought to keep her life force from draining out of her in pulses of red that streaked her hands a rich scarlet.
She stared at him with eyes that were full of a desperate need.
Help me, Yasha. Please, Yasha.
But Yakov couldn’t help her. His hands were tied, his bear strength immobilized. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t break free, couldn’t do anything but scream as Theo bled darkest red in front of him.
That red stained his gaze when he jerked awake in the middle of the night. Instantly aware of Theo’s responding movement, he ran one hand down her side until she calmed and fell back into deep sleep.
While she’d initially agreed to him in her bed, she’d then balked. Not because she wanted to be alone but because she was scared she’d hurt him. It had taken all his bearish charm to talk her down from that.
She’d still only acquiesced after he found her accursed bracelet and let her fix it so she could wear it again. He’d had to literally grit his teeth to not destroy that monstrous “reprimand” device, but he’d known she needed to be held. And if he was holding her, he could get that thing off her the instant it activated.
He was a smart bear. He’d watched her make the repair and knew that the seam was imperfect. One hard push from a bear’s claw and it would snap open. That thing wasn’t going to be hurting her on his watch.
Now, his heart thumping, he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.
Why wasn’t the vision changing?
He still had no answer to his question by the time sleep finally found him again, some two hours later. He fell asleep curled around Theo, her heartbeat his lullaby. But that smart bear’s mind kept on ticking even in sleep, kept on turning the vision this way and that.
If he couldn’t alter the vision, he had to alter the end result.