Page 146 of Somno Slave

He stands above me with a coffee cup balanced loosely in one hand, his eyebrows lifting the second he gets a proper look at me.

“Jesus,” he says. “You look knackered.”

Heat crawls unpleasantly up the back of my neck. I straighten instinctively, shoulders pulling tight. “I’m fine.”

His eyes flick over me anyway. The shadows beneath my eyes. The stiffness in my posture. The way my fingers haven’t properly unclenched from the file.

“That’s nice,” he says mildly.

I frown. “What?”

“The bracelet.” He says, nodding towards my wrist. “It’s nice.”

I glance down.

For a second, the shape means nothing. There’s a thin band of dark metal circling my wrist. Delicate. Old-looking.

The silver surface is etched with faint lines that twist around the metal in a pattern I don’t recognise.

I stare at it. My pulse ticks.

That wasn’t there this morning.

Was it?

I turn my wrist slowly, examining it. The metal catches under the fluorescent light. It’s cold and unfamiliar. Expensive enough to be obscene.

Something prickles along the back of my neck.

I don’t remember putting this on.

I don’t own this.

“I haven’t seen you wear jewellery before.” Mike says eyes still on it. “It’s beautiful. Suits you.”

There’s something unsaid in his words. Something that rests a little too long. His cheeks fan a dark shade of red, a smile spreading wider like he can’t help it.

“Where did you get it from?”

“Old thing,” I say quickly. “Family.”

The lie comes too smoothly, too easily, like it’s been practised.

I notice the clasp then, and it’s strange. It’s not a normal latch, but more like a thin hooked loop carefully twisted closed. My fingers brush the metal. It’s ice cold.

A sudden flicker tears through my mind.

Stone walls.

Firelight crawling across wet rock.

His hand closing hard around my wrist.

My stomach drops violently.

No.

I pull back from the thought immediately.