Page 17 of The Girl Who Should Be Dead

She tries to turn to glance, but Johnsin’s grip on the leash doesn’t even allow that small of movement.

“Okay, this isn’t what it looks like,” Gurlien says, voice wheezy, like the teleportation winded him. “Uh, put down the knife?”

Johnson’s face wrinkles with something resembling derision. “Hit any more ley lines lately? Get another concussion? Not gonna do that.”

Gurlien’s face spasms, before he controls it.

Johnsin meets Ambra’s eyes. “You thought you could run off with a dud?” He pulls the leash tight, so tight the edges crowd around Ambra’s vision, but still, she can’t move an inch. “Surely you could tell.”

He loosens the leash enough for her to nod, then chokes it back again. She gags, the unconscious movement happening despite his control, and her fingers spasm.

He always enjoyed gagging her.

Horror winds its way into her blood, sudden and vicious, and in front of her, Johnsin’s lips twitch upwards.

“Okay, Kyle,” Gurlien starts, and that must be Johnsin’s first name, even though Ambra’s never heard it. He straightens, and it’s just out of the corner of her eye that she can see the flop of his hair, can see the edge of his silhouette. “Uh, this is a misunderstanding, stop choking her.”

“What, and let Boltiex take her with no additional controls?” Johnsin shoots back, jerking the leash again. “I don’t know how you’re in all of this, but this isn’t a person, you don’t have to get all lawyer about this one.”

Gurlien takes another step forward, and he has his hands up, as if showing he’s unarmed, but the leash is still around his wrist.

Johnsin’s eyes follow it down, then he snaps Ambra away, jerking her enough so she’s across the room, teleported in between one breath and the next.

“What have you heard?” Johnsin asks, suddenly guarded, and the back of Ambra’s neck prickles.

Gurlien wets his lips, but there’s something working behind his eyes, some intelligence, some calculations. “Not much,” he replies, voice cautious. “She took me by surprise.”

Johnsin’s not buying it, at all, and he tightens the leash around Ambra’s neck, and her breath squeaks out again.

She hadn’t had time to coach him, she hadn’t had time to do anything. She doesn’t even know if he could pull it yet, if he could counteract it.

“No, she literally kidnapped me,” Gurlien emphasizes, “because of my…”

“Because of your accident?” Johnsin’s skeptical, and it’s a teasing bit of information, something just interesting enough that it derails the pain, derails the panic screaming through her. That Johnsin knows something she doesn’t.

Gurlien swallows, his throat bobbing. “I think so.” He blinks towards Ambra, some sort of message, attempting to say something with his eyes, but she can’t tell what. “She said she didn’t want me to control her.

It’s the correct thing to say, but Ambra goes cold. It’s correct, it’s exactly what happened, but…

But if Gurlien’s divulging it so easily, he could hand it over, and be done with all this.

She takes a big gulping breath. “He—”

Johnsin jerks on the leash, effectively cutting off her words, and she gags again, her eyes blurring. Blood wells up in her throat, but she can’t even clear it out.

“Can you untie that” Johnsin asks, gesturing towards the leash, which of course Gurlien can’t see. “I don’t want to muddle the chain of command; this is a delicate project.”

Gurlien shakes his head immediately. “I can’t even see it.”

Again, it’s true, it’s correct, but he’s revealing too much. He’s revealing too much and she’s going to be handed back and she can’t…

Unable to stop herself, she scrabbles at her neck for the leash, cutting into the skin, until Johnsin snaps the leash tight enough and her hands fall away, her muscles abruptly relaxing.

Outside of her bidding, she stands up straight, perfectly still, the body’s shoulders settling back.

“It’s okay,” her voice says, Johnsin compelling the words out of her, and he mouths along with her.

Gurlien recoils back, as Johnsin turns her eyes to him.

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