This was a trick, Roaki knew it right away. People called her stupid, but she had nose for this sort of thing. Schemes, plots, strategies—the tools of weaklings who never knew what to do when their plans fell through. 

But that was the shit of it. She wasn’t dealing with a weakling, she was dealing with Quinnlash. Roaki followed the girl’s shadow as she stalked from the doorway to the chair across from her bed. She didn’t look at her face. Couldn’t, still. It was pathetic, but she couldn’t. That golden eye [i]burned[/i] in her mind, more monstrous than the red gaze of any Savior. If she looked at her, somehow, Roaki knew she would see [i]Ablaze[/i] staring back at her. The muscles in her arm twitched at the thought. Her leg ached even below where it had been cut, still, despite the pills these nurses had crammed down her throat.

In the cold, at least she’d been in too much pain to think. Now with the unnatural warmth and comfort of a hospital bed, even with the exhaustion still lingering behind her eyes, all she could [i]do[/i] was think. Think. Think. 

Fuck, it felt like she could hardly breathe. 

Her hand kept a firm grip on the sheet. She didn’t know why, it wasn’t like she could [i]fight[/i] her. She couldn’t fight [i]anyone[/i]. All she could do now, and for whatever was left of her life, was sit and hurt and fucking [i]think[/i]. 

And talk, apparently. 

Roaki chewed her lip. Of course, she should have seen this coming. This must have been why she wasn’t dead yet, why they’d stuffed her in that icebox and now, why they’d thawed her again. They wanted something. Quinnlash wanted something.

“[color=ec008c]What…[/color]” she started, forcing herself to sound at least [i]somewhat[/i] like a person, and not a frightened worm. “[color=ec008c]What do you want to know?[/color]”