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Alexius takes a long drag of his cigarette, not caring that some strands of his black hair fall over his eyes. It’s been a hot fucking minute since my twin joined one of these torture shows in our pursuit to extract information. But after our minor altercation that Caelian intercepted to point out that we’re both being dicks, I’ve been including Alexius in my plans, and he’s been kind enoughnotto be up my ass about every fucking thing I do.
Maximo hauls my next target and perhaps victim through the doorway by their shirt collar, a snarl of revulsion lacing his features. The man’s eyes bulge out of his skull when he sees his friend's corpse, an animalistic rage coursing through him as he unleashes a flurry of kicks and curses. “You bastards! Let me go!”
“Your name is Joel, right? Like the Bible’s Joel?”
“Screw you,” he seethes, the veins at his temples pulsing with rage.
“That’s not a very biblical thing to say,” I taunt.
“Let me go.”
“Tell me what I want to know, Joel, and I just might.”
“Bullshit. You and I both know I’m about to end up like him,” he spits out, nodding toward the corpse.
“Then why the fuck are you demanding we let you go if you already know there’s no chance in hell we’ll do that?”
“Fuckers!”
Maximo slams a fist into his side, and Joel hunches forward as Maximo yanks his hands up above his head and fastens his wrists to the chain dangling from the ceiling.
“Okay,” I sigh, pulling a hand through my hair. “Let’s see if you’ll sing. Tell me where Nunzio is,” I growl, my voice gravelly and low, as I walk up close to him. His eyes dart between me and the array of tools laid out on the table behind me, his fate lying among the cold steel instruments.
“Fuck you,” he grits out, defiance flickering in his eyes even as his body trembles.
“Wrong answer.” My fist connects with his jaw in a swift, brutal motion, pain shooting up my arm as the satisfying crunch echoes through the room. “Let’s try that again. Where is Nunzio?” I snarl, watching blood dribble down his chin from the fresh wound, the chains complaining as he sways back and forth from the blow.
He spits a mouthful of blood before latching his dark brown gaze onto mine. “How many of us have you killed?”
“If by us, you mean Nunzio’s bitches, I’ve lost count.”
“Then you can’t be very bright, can you?” He smirks, blood staining his teeth. “Because if you were, you’d realize by now that none of us fucking know where he is.”
I narrow my eyes, studying him as I would a predator sizing up its prey. “I’m struggling to decide if I should just kill you quickly like I did your friend here or if I should make it last until you beg me to tear out your heart.”
“No one knows where he is, man. Do you really think Nunzio is that stupid, telling us all where he’s hiding when he knows the goddamn Dark Sovereign is searching for him?”
“It won’t be the first time he’s done something stupid, the first time being kidnapping my wife,” I hiss, grabbing a pair of pliers from the table, the steel cold and weighted in my palm.
He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as his gaze drops from mine to the floor. “I swear, man. I don’t know fucking anything.”
“Let’s see if your fingers have a better memory than your tongue,” I taunt, reaching up and grabbing his pinky finger firmly, clamping the pliers around it. The metal bites into his flesh as I twist, and his piercing scream follows the sickening snap of bone. Am I the devil for loving the sound of his choked sobs, finding pleasure in the way his face contorts in agony? Perhaps.
I glance at his severed pinky rolling across the floor and leaving a trail of blood behind it while my darkened soul relishes the broken cries that tear from Joel’s throat. A sheen of sweat instantly erupts across his face, covered in lines of pain.
“Talk,” I demand when his cries subside, replaced with ragged breaths and gargled noise.
“Fuck…you.” His voice is nothing but whispered agony as tears and snot drip down his chin.
I lean in close, smelling the pain and desperation in his breath. “We both know you’re either going to talk or die, perhaps even both.”
He grits his teeth before reluctantly speaking up again, sweat dripping down his forehead as he does so. “All we know is…it’s just some rumors about his whereabouts, most likely fake because this whole town is abuzz with this shit.”
“What’s the rumors?”
He stares at me, breaths coming out labored.
“I don’t have time for this shit,” I mutter. Without a single goddamn thought, I grab the knife off the table, and with a sweep of my arm, I slice the blade across his cheek, and he hisses as blood gushes from the open wound.
