Page 13 of Bones
“Incredible,” the woman murmured. “Does it hurt?”
Mac swallowed, his nostrils flaring. “Not anymore.”
The woman turned to me, taking my face in her hands. A sugary scent washed over me as she leaned closer. It clashed with the sharp tang of blood. She tilted my head down, inspecting the scabbed gash on my head.
“You can’t heal yourself?” she asked, suddenly soothing and calm like a mother talking to her child.
“No.”
Mac pushed himself up to sit, and with the way the woman tilted my head, I could see his hands trembling. His body had healed, but my powers couldn’t replace the blood he’d lost.
“Don’t stand up too fast,” I told him.
He gave me a nod but didn’t say anything as he stood, swaying just a little bit, but he made it to the wall and leaned on it for support.
The woman still studied me, her eyes bright and calculating. “Could you do it again?” She stroked my hair as though I were a pet.
My panic spiked and I forced myself not to look at Mac. “I need…I need rest,” I stammered. “I can only do it so much.”
“How much?” she pushed.
“I…I don’t know?—”
The woman turned to one of her men, cutting me off.
“Sax, bring me Hojo.”
The man gave a sharp nod and disappeared through the door. The woman let go of me and stood, pulling out a cloth and wiping Mac’s blood from her knife. I climbed to my feet, brushing bloody straw from my pants. My mind balked at every scenario running through it, and I couldn’t help glancing toward Mac. He still leaned on the wall, but he was standing. I had a strange flash of relief that at least she wasn’t going to hurt Mac again and frowned, disgusted with myself.
Mac met my eyes, staring at me hard as though trying to communicate something, but before I could even begin to try and figure it out the sound of a metal door clanging open sounded in the distance. Someone started yelling in a hoarse, furious voice.
Sax returned, dragging a dirty, gaunt man with wild, ratted hair. He threw him into the chair and started buckling him in. The man thrashed and kicked, but Sax overpowered him. Bile rose in my throat, but I forced myself to swallow it down.
“Madame,” Hojo barked, “you fuckin’ bitch.”
Madame smiled and stalked toward him. She angled the knife and set it against the man’s arm bound to the chair. “We’re gonna have some fun, you and I,” she said, then she leaned in and whispered, “You shoulda killed me instead of him.”
“I didn’t—” Hojo started, but the words cut off in a scream.
I couldn’t help the strangled noise that escaped through my teeth as she sliced into his arm. Hojo’s scream grew louder as she moved the knife up toward his shoulder, cutting so deep I could see the white of his bone. Blood spilled down his arm and into the straw.
“It wasn’t me!” he howled. “It wasn’t me!”
Madame ignored him, turning those cold eyes back on me. “Go ahead, Bones.”
Hojo sobbed and spat out every curse word in the book as I laid shaking hands on his bloody arm. The warmth remained, but using it ached like a sore muscle. The bleeding eased and the skin began to knit itself back together, slower than before, but still steady. Hojo’s sobs quieted as I healed him, and I could feel him studying me. Madame hovered close again, watching. Finally, the wound closed. Madame bent over Hojo’s arm, and I couldn’t contain my gasp of horror as she sliced his arm open again. Hojo’s scream made my ears ring.
“Again.” Madame smiled.
I did it again. I had to choke back a sob when next she crushed Hojo’s fingers in an iron clamp, but I healed those too. One of her men took an iron bar and smashed Hojo’s leg until the bone broke. I healed that too, tears spilling from my eyes as Hojo screamed and cursed and spit. They tortured him for hours, and I healed him every time, the pain from doing so turning sharper. Madame spoke to him a few times, a mixture of taunting and questioning. I wanted to tell her if he knew anything, he would’ve spilled it all by now, but I kept my lips pressed tight together.
My power flowing through me started to feel like claws shredding me from the inside. Sweat stung my eyes, and when I swiped a sleeve across my running nose, it came back bloody. Mac watched me, his dark eyes glittering. I got the impression Madame was testing him as well as me, and I gritted my teeth, trying to make myself numb.
Madame slashed her knife through Hojo’s neck, and I managed to heal the deadly wound before I stumbled and fell to my knees, vomiting bile into the bloody straw. My body shook as I heaved. Above me, Hojo sobbed.
“Get her up,” I heard Madame say.
Somebody hauled me to my feet. The room spun. Madame said something but I couldn’t focus on the words. A sharp stinging slap to my face made me gasp.
