Chapter 4

I laughed. I pulled a long, thick metal nail from my pocket, clicked my lighter, and began heating the tip.

"Tell me," I said softly, "what kind of shady deals are going on between the Principal and your dad?"

Tristan stared at the glowing hot metal, his chest heaving. "What are you talking about? My dad just donated some money to the school—"

Before he could finish, I slammed the heated nail into a deep nerve cluster near his collarbone and covered his mouth with my hand.

He went rigid, his eyes bulging as he thrashed against me.

After five seconds, I pulled the nail out. The smell of singed flesh rose between us.

Tristan collapsed to the ground, his body shaking, soaked in sweat.

I clicked the lighter again, heating the nail once more. "This is an old interrogation trick from the Middle East. It won't kill you, but the pain in that nerve cluster will last for a week."

"One or two points are manageable. But if I do ten? The pain will trigger a constant, burning fever. Your body will feel like it's on fire, and no painkillers in the world will help you."

"The record is twenty-seven points. The guy lasted eleven days before his heart gave out. Want to see how many you can take?"