Chapter Twenty-Six
Farren
“It’s fortunate that you’re here, we have a couple of questions for you,” Rival states, his cold.
“Why would I answer the questions of anyone who associates themselves with that whore? She’s a waste of air.
” His gaze moves to me, the hatred in it sharp, “I tried to kill you over and over again, and you wouldn’t fucking die,” he rants.
His evil gaze glued to me, “But I’m stronger now, and I have power on my side—more than you could ever imagine.
I’ll finish the job this time. This time, when your blood drips through my fingers and your screams echo around the hallways, it will be for the last time.
I’m going to savour it, I’m going to take you apart piece by piece. ”
I roll my eyes as he continues to rant and rave. This is nothing I haven’t heard before, and even as a Wraith, there is nothing that he can do to me that would be worse, or hell, even close to what I’ve been through.
My reaction, however, is not the same as the guys.
Angry growls echo throughout the room, and the threat level rises even higher.
My gaze, however, is on Mayhem, he’s still.
Godfrey continues to insult me with his words and threats getting even more vile.
“Give me the room,” Mayhem’s voice is cold and dark. Deadly.
Storm doesn’t hesitate, he doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t question him. None of them do. They all just turn to leave, as Godfrey struggles and strains against the shadows that bind him.
“We’ll be outside,” Storm says, as he takes hold of my hand and gently tugs me out of the room when I stay where I am.
My gaze lands on Zev, and I’m actually kind of relieved that his expression holds the same confusion that mine does.
Mayhem doesn’t take his gaze off of Godfrey, and as we are about to close the door behind us, shutting him in the room. He speaks.
“Take the shadows off.”
The shadows disappear just as the door shuts.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “Do you think it’s safe to leave Mayhem alone in there, with no backup, and nothing holding my father, who is a fucking Wraith, in place?”
“Mayhem is the safest thing in that room,” Loki says, his expression serious.
I open my mouth to argue because I know that Mayhem is a really strong supernatural, but Godfrey is a fucking Wraith and a coherent one at that. He shouldn’t be as coherent as he is. He shouldn’t fucking be here, he’s dead.
Very dead.
None of it makes sense, but I think it’s pretty safe to assume, since the only other coherent Wraith had the mark of the princes, that they have something to do with this as well.
Before I can say any of that though, a blood-curdling scream of pain comes from within the office, and I lunge for the door.
“Why the hell are you stopping me?” I growl at Reaper.
The only reason why I haven’t blasted him with my magic is because it’s Reaper, and I trust that he wouldn’t have stopped me for no reason, and that he wouldn’t put Mayhem at risk either.
“That’s not Mayhem, Farren,” Reaper replies.
I still.
“Seriously?” I ask as soon as I understand what they’re implying.
Rival nods, “Mayhem is extremely good at getting the information that he wants from anyone, by any means necessary. He has a gift for it.”
“And he fucking loves it,” Killian adds. When he receives a sharp look from Storm, he shrugs, “It’s not going to scare Farren, and she should know. He’s not going to be able to keep this side of himself under wraps forever. It’s who he is.”
Storm sighs, “I know, but he’s worried about it.”
“Why?” I ask. “I think it’s hot.”
Zev chuckles and shakes his head, “Of course you do.”
“Farren, can you get in contact with Hades and Khaos? We’re going to need them, and Hades is going to want to know how a soul escaped and became a Wraith,” Storm asks, changing the subject.
I nod and tune out the continuing screams and begging for mercy as I talk to Hades and Khaos.
“Sorry, guys, we’ve got a situation here,” I start, and before I can explain what’s going on, they both appear.
“Is everything . . .” Hades trails off as the echoing screams suddenly cut off.
Khaos grins, “Mayhem, I assume?”
Loki smirks, “Yep. The fucker in there with him threatened Farren.”
“That’s not why he’s in there. We need information,” I correct him.
All of the guys, even Hades and Khaos, look at me with raised eyebrows.
Rival levels me with a look, “Make no mistake, Farren, he’s in there because of what that piece of scum said about you, and because of how he threatened you. The fact that he will most likely get information out of him is just a bonus.”
“Why do you think the screams of pain and torment are still going on?” Kill grins. “Mayhem could have gotten the information we need in moments. He’s that good. He wanted to make him feel pain first.”
“Why are you smiling?” Khaos asks, his eyebrows dipping down into a frown.
“Because that’s probably one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me,” I reply honestly. “Plus, it’s really hot.”
Khaos’ smile widens, his eyes lit with curiosity and happiness, “Perfect.”
Hades chuckles, “Why doesn’t someone explain to us what’s going on while Mayhem is busy with whoever is in there?”
Mayhem
I admit that at first I didn’t even bother trying to get the information out of him, I simply made him hurt. I boiled his blood in his veins, I slowly pulled his tendons out of his arms and legs, I sliced, and thanks to my ability with the seventh element, I pulled and plucked on his soul.
It was an interesting realisation that Wraiths do, in fact, have souls still. One that I am sure is going to come in handy at some point. As my brother likes to say, knowledge is power.
Godfrey’s soul was in the worst condition that I have ever seen a soul, and I’ve dealt with people who have done truly horrific things.
Touching a person's soul is excruciatingly painful, pulling, twisting and slicing at it, while it is still attached to the person, can make them go insane, and permanently damage the soul.
Very few people know what I can do with a soul, and by that, I mean, Rival knows.
The guys know that I can do things that make me an extremely effective torturer, and that there is a darker part to my magic that feeds on this sort of thing, and I mean that in the literal sense.
The darkness doesn’t need to be fed, that part of me doesn’t get hungry, but it does feed when I do things like this, and as a consequence, I become a lot stronger.
I like what I do, and that I’m good at it.
The guys know all of that, but they don’t know what I can do with souls.
I have never found a secure enough place to tell them, one where I can ensure that I’m not going to be overheard.
But more than that, I am already so different, being able to control all of the elements, I don’t want them to think that I’m too different.
Of course, Rival thinks I’m being ridiculous.
He wouldn’t know about what I can do if it weren’t for the fact that I had to use the ability to save us both from our abuser.
Godfrey screams.
While I had been lost in my thoughts, my water magic that I had chilled to freezing temperatures and used to keep him in place had slowly been creeping higher up his legs and arms, causing a couple of his fingers to drop off.
It’s not enough, not for what I felt from him when he was spewing that vitriol at Farren.
That’s another advantage, or maybe disadvantage to the darker part of me, when it kicks online, I know what my target is feeling, it’s a great tool for torture, I know how to really mess with my prey’s head, and how deep the evil goes.
He loved hurting Farren. He thrived on it. He hated her with every fibre of his being and wished that he could have carried on hurting her for centuries to come. He was never going to let her escape. She was his obsession. He wanted to end her in the most brutal way that he could think of.
So, I’m going to hurt him.
I’m going to push him to the brink of insanity.
I’m going to make him beg for death, and I’m going to take him to the edge of it over and over again, without allowing him the relief, and when I do kill him, I’m going to play with his soul instead.
I’m also going to keep it until Hades, who I am assuming is on the way, arrives and can personally escort Godfrey back to the punishment side of the Underworld because I’m not risking him escaping.
Not again.
Not with the very real threat he poses to Farren.
For the next hour, that’s what I do. Using some of my finest and favourite techniques, I tear at him without letting him die.
“P-p-please, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know,” he stutters weakly, during a moment of stillness.
My gaze narrows, and I use my magic to pin him against the wall and slowly pierce his chest with my hand, grabbing hold of his soul and his heart at the same time. I’m not going to remove it, not yet.
I sigh.
“I suppose that I should ask you some questions,” I reply, allowing my disappointment to be known. “You should know that I will know when you’re lying,” I grin, aware of how unhinged it looks, since I’m covered in his blood. “And if you lie to me, you will be punished accordingly.”
Godfrey nods, his face marred by pain, “Anything. I’ll tell you anything.”
“Did the princes turn you into a Wraith?” I ask, I don’t want to start with the question we really want the answer to, just in case he does manage to survive this again.
“Yes. Crem did. He is creating an army using souls from both sides of the Underworld. It’s not his army, he is merely a commander,” he rambles.
“Whose army is it?” I ask.
“A God I don’t know, he has a scar on his hand,” he replies.
“What is the purpose of the army?”
“They’re going to take over the Underworld first. Once the Underworld is conquered, they are going to come for the rest of the realms,” he stutters.
Makes sense, I suppose. This God is clearly power hungry.
“Anything else I should know?”
“The God has other gods working for him. There’s a hierarchy with the gods, and the one in charge is close to the top and extremely powerful.
He has other gods in the tiers below him who do things for him in the other realms, amassing followers.
The Order is run by Kronos, a lower-tier God.
I worked for him. The Dragon Kings have made a deal with the God, which will give them power when the realms are under the God’s control. ”
“How?” I ask.
He shakes his head, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. That’s all the information I have.”
He’s not lying, but I sever his leg anyway.
Once his screams of pain have faded to whimpers, I ask, “One more thing, where is the Leabhar Nam Marbh?”
He looks momentarily confused but answers me, “In the safe behind that painting. It’s just a worthless storybook. The only reason it’s in the safe is because it’s stolen.”
I grin, “Thank you.”
Keeping a hold of his soul, my hand closes around his heart more tightly, and I pull it free. Dropping it to the floor, I then use the same hand to pull his throat out and sever his head.
His soul struggles in my grip.
I could allow it to leave, and it should go to the Underworld, where Hades will be able to deal with it properly, but I can’t guarantee that.
He shouldn’t have been able to come back as a Wraith, that’s not how Wraiths are supposed to work.
Which means that the princes have somehow managed to find a way to create Wraiths out of souls, and I bet that the Dragons have something to do with it.
I’m going to risk that seeing me with a soul in my hand is a step too far for the others to ensure that he’s dealt with properly.
The door opens before I can tell anyone that they can come in, and Khaos grins at me proudly.
“I felt the physical pain stop,” he explains. “You have to be one of the best torturers that I have ever known. That was fucking impressive.”
I smile, “Thanks.”
I’m deliberately making sure that I don’t look at Farren. I know that she’s different from most people, but this room is covered in blood, I’m covered in blood, and I’m holding Godfrey’s soul.
I go just a bit beyond brutal, and I’m pretty sure she’s going to be disgusted by that.
It’s okay, I would do it again if it meant that she was going to be safe.
“Mayhem, look at me,” Farren says as she steps in front of me.
I hesitate, but look down at her.
Her expression shocks me. She’s smiling at me?