Darien could not answer.
His hand still shook on the table. The pain had already faded from a sharp strike into a hot, crawling ache, but the memory of it stayed inside his muscles. He had been hit before. He had been threatened before. None of that had felt like this.
The old man had touched him with a cane, spoken one word, and sent electricity through his body.
It had not been strong enough to kill him, but it had been strong enough to make his own body stop listening. His fingers had curled without permission. His knees still felt loose under the table. Even his tongue felt heavy, as if the shock had left a taste of metal in his mouth.
Darien looked at the cane again.
It was only metal.
That made it worse.
"What did you do to me?" he asked.
