Fred’s eyes widened for a heartbeat. Then, suddenly, he went still. His hand twitched toward the drawer where he kept his supplies—obedient, mechanical.
A rush of satisfaction surged through me. It worked.
Or so I thought.
Fred froze mid-step, and then a sound tore out of him—laughter. Low at first, then louder, almost manic. “You really thought that would work on me?” he said between laughs, shaking his head. “Oh, Zane Pierce… you idiot.”
I frowned, the command still burning in my throat. “W-what?”
He pulled his wrist free and took a step back, grinning like a wolf who’d just won. “I may be only a half-breed,” he said, “but I’m not a fool. Your little mind tricks don’t work on me.”
He walked back to the desk and picked up a small vial filled with shimmering green liquid. Smoke curle
