Page 90 of The Fire Beneath the Frost

This wasn’t a warning.

This was a punishment.

What were they going to do to us?

And would anyone even care if we disappeared?

ChapterTwenty-Seven

Petyr

They’d chained me to a table like an animal.

A single bulb buzzed overhead, swinging slightly in its socket.The room was all concrete, with sweat-stained walls and a piss-stained floor.It smelled like metal and mildew.My wrists were raw where the cuffs bit into them, and every muscle in my back ached from the awkward position they’d locked me in.

I tried not to think about Dimitri.

But I failed.Over and over.

Where was he?Had they dragged him off to some different hell?Was he hurt?Bleeding?Alone?

A thousand images stampeded through my head.Dimitri curled in on himself, fists bruised, his soft mouth split open.The sound of his voice when he’d laughed earlier tonight.The warmth of his hand on my shoulder.

Gone.All of it.Like it had never existed.

The door slammed open so hard it rebounded off the wall.

I flinched.

A uniformed man walked in like a boulder rolled downhill.He had a thick neck, meaty fists, and was sweating through his uniform in thick patches.His sneer was lazy, practiced.This wasn’t his first interrogation, not even close.He sat across from me and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the scarred tabletop.He looked at me like something he’d scrape off his boot.

“Well, well.Look at you,” he said, voice thick with contempt.“You don’t look like much.You don’t look like a man who’d corrupt the youth of our city.But that’s always how it is, isn’t it?The rats hide in plain sight.”

I said nothing.

He tutted and shook his head.“You know, you people are like a disease.One moment you’re slithering around your filthy clubs, humping behind garbage dumpsters, the next you’re crawling into our schools, our factories, and our families.”His lip curled.“What was your plan, huh?Recruit that pretty boy you were with?Spread your rot like mold on bread?”

Still, I said nothing.But my fingers trembled in the cuffs.Sweat dripped down the back of my neck.

“You’re a virus,” he said flatly.“And I’ve been tasked with containment.”

Then he slapped me.

Hard.

My head snapped sideways, teeth rattling.Pain bloomed across my cheekbone.

I tried to brace myself, but the second blow landed before I could.My vision went white at the edges.

“Who else?”he shouted.“Who else goes to that little faggot temple you call Sanctuary?”

I turned back toward him slowly, my ears ringing, and I tasted blood.“I was just walking with a friend.”

Wrong answer.Another slap.My head hit the table this time, forehead smacking cold metal.

“Liar!”Spit flew from his mouth, thick and hot.It landed on my cheek.I felt it run down, mixing with blood.My arms strained against the cuffs, the metal cutting deeper into my wrists.

My body was betraying me—I could feel it.My bladder was loosening with terror, my breath shallow and erratic.I was going to piss myself, right here like a scared dog.I squeezed my eyes shut.

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