Page 132 of Border Control

LAURA

Dom jerks violently,his back arching. His hands shoot to his throat, clutching hard.

He’s being choked right in front of my eyes.

“Stop it!” I scream to the heavens as I lunge for him. “Nevare didn’t need killing, he needed help! He’s not out of control, we passed your stupid test.”

His legs kick, spasming. His mouth opens, gasping, but no sound escapes. His body flickers, fading.

No. Fuck that.

I grab hold of him. I won’t lose him. I won’t. Gold swarms around us, flooding my vision, as bright and blinding as the sun.

Then I shove outwards. The remnants of my secret room blast away, flung back in a nuclear explosion, leaving just the Roadhouse standing. A scream rings out: mine? Or the other Apex’s?

Murky impressions float through the light. Behind the Roadhouse, the courtroom is in disarray, loud protests. The Voice saying, “I order you to stop the euthanization.”

“He failed the Base loyalty test.” The Prif, stubborn, clinging to the last bastion of her legal system. Swirls of red angersurround her, raw as fresh burns, but I know what I’ll find inside.

Cold blue spikes of fear.

I turn my head, but I can’t. We’re pinned to the execution pole, body shaking as the thread tightens.

“The connection is hurting the human female,” the Voice protests.

“Once he’s dead, she will be free,” Samara counters.

Dom closes his eyes, sliding us into darkness.‘Law-rah, get away from me. I don’t want to hold onto you. I… I might pull you down.’

I grab him harder.‘You’re not going anywhere.’

Channeling all my frustration, all my anger, all my love, I aim it at the thread choking off Dom’s air.

‘Law-rah, are you trying to?—’

‘Not trying.’I imagine my hands pulling that horrible garrote apart. Snapping it, then shearing through the chains around his wrists.

White hot pain floods me, blinding me, but I hold one thing clear.

Dom.

The Roadhouse vanishes. I blink, head swimming. I’m standing in the courtroom, sound battering at me. I can’t make any sense of it. Whose body am I in? The glittering floor swoops toward me as I fall.

Dom scoops me up, pulling me to his heartbeats. They thunder in my ears, the best rhythm in the universe.

I look up at him. His lilac eyes are grave, studying mine, brushing my hair back from my face.

“You’re alive,” I croak.

“So are you, despite wielding a psychic blade.” He wraps his arms around me, shutting out the world, scales soft and warm. “Never do that again.”

The courtroom erupts. Green hands prise Dom’s arms open, Selthiastocks like Gara touching my hands and face. He lays me down on the floor, the data streams pulsing around us, a strong circle of light.

“Is it over?” I ask Dom, but he straightens up and away from me. Parthiastocks take his arms, the shackles around his wrists clinking as the broken chains between them swing free. The Sanitatum plants in the analysis wall behind them ripple like seaweed in the ocean, feasting.

A Selthiastock slides my translation headphones into place on my ears, and suddenly I can understand again.

“She’s not in control, he is,” the Prif storms. “This is an insidious attack on our very society.”