Chapter 17: Kit's Turn

Kit's POV

I want it on the record that I was the one who dropped the tray.

It was a good tray.

Eleven bowls, and two guards who went to look at the mess.

I was still laughing when the speaker over the east block clicked and a soft voice said, "Rafe, dear."

Then a note went through the building, low and short, the one the Warden used when she wanted a man to stop being a man.

I knew that note.

I had heard it three times in three years, and each time I had woken on the floor.

I ran.

Selene's door stood open.

Rafe was on his knees in the middle of the cell, with both hands over his ears.

Black claws were coming out of his fingers.

His beast was screaming behind him.

Selene had her arms around his head and her gold light pouring into him.

"Stay with me," she was saying. "Look at me."

"It's a pulse," I said, and held up the slate. "It's her rage tone. There's a second line queued under it. STOP, it says. Three rising notes."

Selene looked up.

Her face was grey.

"What does stop do?"

"I don't know," I said, which was a lie.

I knew exactly.

Bastian came in behind me, with his bag, and took one look.

"Get him to the bay," he said. "Now. The beads have to come out tonight, and I want him under before the second tone."

We carried him between us.

Stellan met us in the corridor with a sheet, and the four of us took Rafe down the dark corridor.

In the medical bay Bastian put the needle in, and Rafe's massive body went slack and heavy on the table.

The sterilizer ticked in the back room.

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