BLOOD AND BONE | rewritten

The biting cold of the interrogation room was a stark contrast to the humid air of Laguna, but Delphinium Tesla was used to discomfort.
The coarse burlap sack had been ripped from her head, leaving her to stare up at the face of Delsin Hunt, Director of the International Military Collective. His liquid-dark eyes glittered with an unspoken challenge.
"I am looking forward to our future business together," he said, his voice smooth and devoid of emotion. Around them, IMC soldiers stood like silent sentinels, their handguns a constant, biting reminder of her lack of freedom.
The metal cuffs on her wrists felt heavier, colder. She could feel the new device around her ankle, a silent threat, a leash.
"Likewise," Delphinium replied, her voice carefully flat, betraying none of the cold hysteria that churned within her. Every instinct screamed at her to fight, to unleash the power she had so carefully suppressed for a year. But she held back, knowing she needed more information.
She watched as Hunt gestured, and a soldier moved to unchain her legs. The relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by the heavy knowledge of what awaited her.
She was being led away, towards wherever the other recruits were held. Eight convicts. Eight 'gifted' individuals. And she, Delphinium, the ex-assassin, was one of them. She knew it. They were going to tear each other apart.
