Concrete isn’t supposed to scream. But the solid stone wall separating Jane’s cell from the maximum-security containment block was shrieking, the internal iron rebar twisting under an impossible, localized pressure.
Thump.
Another impact. The hairline fracture widened into a jagged, bleeding mouth of stone. Dust rained onto Jane’s shoulders, coating the dark silk of her torn dress in a layer of pale ash. She didn’t brush it off. She didn’t step back. She stood perfectly still in the center of the freezing cell, the overhead fluorescent bulb humming a flat, irritating B-note above her.
Thump.
A fist broke through the wall.
It wasn't a wolf’s paw. It was a human hand. The knuckles were split down to the bone, slick with blood, the skin torn away to reveal white cartilage. The hand gripp
