This time, it obeyed. The weight lifted from my mind, disappearing until I felt almost back to normal. Almost, because Fisher was still holding my hands. When I opened my eyes, he was looking at the solid bead of matte, inert metal in my hands, a look of wry amusement on his irritatingly handsome face. “I have to say, I was expecting that to go differently,” he mused. And then I punched him square in the mouth.
