Chapter 55
Okthana was sending him a message. She had to be.
What else could those vulgar, undead serpents have been for?
Maybe she’d overheard his interrogation of Baldrir, and was looking to make him aware of the fact. Reminding him of where his loyalty was meant to be. Playing him for a fool.
Then again, knowing he’d asked questions was not the same as knowing why. She was smart, but she couldn’t read minds, and putting it all together was probably beyond her feeble imagination.
Endellion, as usual, had been no help whatsoever.
“There’s no way Okthana knows,” he whispered to himself. “No fucking way.”
The information he’d coaxed from Baldrir was innocent enough. He might still be able to convince her it had just been a bit of fun to learn about the Battle of Breamwyrm. Among other things.
He’d have to do some groveling, of course, and find a way to remove Brand from her clutches—preferably before she could convince the Imperial Demon to help her and ruin every fucking thing he’d been working towards as a result.
His dungeons were compromised regardless. If she hadn’t actually found them, he’d be doing a lot of work for nothing, but no harm was done. If she had, it wouldn’t be long before she meddled in ways he couldn’t tolerate, whether she knew his secrets or not.
Either way, she’d fucked his peace. It had been weeks since her attack and he’d had yet to hear from her. Sure, he’d been up to his fucking eyeballs in keeping up appearances, but she always knew where to find him. She should’ve said something by now.
Not like he could come right out and ask her if she’d happened to realize his duplicity. Whether he liked it or not, he still needed the bitch.
What a fucking mess.
Unless…
Maybe there was a way he could make it a mess she would have to clean up. One she’d have no way to blame him for. After all, he was merely Okthana’s lowly servant. Incapable, as far as she knew, of what he was thinking of doing.
Yes. It might work. He’d have to be sure she was distracted, but—
A rustle and hissed whispers snagged him from the maze of his mind and pacing.
“Ah-ah. Trying to escape again?” He plucked the bent hairpin from Nyriadne’s bruised fingers and tapped her nose with it. “Naughty.”
He thought he’d gotten them all during her first attempt early on.
Silly him for not checking her everywhere.
Although, he was sort of curious to know how she’d gotten hold of it when her toes were barely scraping the floor.
Her arms should’ve been out of their sockets by now, dangling as she was.
He’d have to keep a better eye on the crafty chit.
Lucky for him, he finally had a little time to himself.
“Trying? We will escape.” Her eyes positively burned through the matted clumps of her black hair. “Today, tomorrow. Doesn’t matter if it takes a bloody year. We’ll get out and I’ll make sure to tell every creature we meet what you’re doing down here, you disgusting bast—“
The back of his hand connected with her soft cheek, a satisfying crack! echoing above the din of captivity.
Naughty and annoying. Sweet Night, no one talked as much as she did. And yet, she didn’t make a single sound when struck.
Interesting.
“Don’t fucking touch her! Don’t even look at her!”
Oh, how he adored the musical sound of chains rattling and creatures thinking they still had control.
“You know, Baldrir…” He sauntered over to his first Straelani prize, drawing the hairpin across the Demon’s chapped lips. “One would think you’d remember how little those sort of demands affect me. Shall I refresh your memory?”
“You’ve already done your worst to me. I survived once, I’ll do it again and again.”
He clicked his tongue. “You were rather fortunate, weren’t you? Lunara is an absolute wonder. Sadly, she’s also occupied at the moment, what with Brand missing and all. Bringing you back from the Veil a second time will not be on her list of priorities. If they ever find you. Which they won’t.”
A gasp sounded from Nyriadne. “Brand is missing? Do you have him? Tell us where he is!”
Both he and Baldrir ignored her to stare each other down. A delightful battle of wills.
What fun.
“You don’t scare me.”
For all the bravery Baldrir’s words boasted, the tremble in his voice was like a heady wine—utterly intoxicating. He never should’ve neglected them for so long and denied himself the pleasure.
“No? Ah, but you’re not using that hard head of yours, my friend! You may not care about yourself anymore, but you care about them.”
He gestured to the silent contingent of Demons he’d stolen along with the siblings. Twelve pairs of eyes stared back at him from all sides, the rage suppressed within them shining through like starfire as they observed the exchange between captor and commander.
“And ‘care’… Well, that’s far too tame a term for our Nyriadne, isn’t it?”
Baldrir blanched, a muscle twitching beneath one eye.
Oh, yes. The Demon was beginning to understand his circumstances.
“You see, nothing went to plan.” He perused the warriors as he spoke to Baldrir, arms crossed. “I still haven’t gotten what I need from the Montrealm, and I’m of a mind to place the blame at your feet. Remember what I told you would happen if you failed me, Baldrir?”
“I delivered your fucking message exactly as you asked.”
“Hmm. I suppose my definition of failure is a bit more fluid than that.”
Lantern light flickered on a female Demon’s face, highlighting the perfect curve of her jutting cheekbone. Fitting, for the fiery Frida.
“Your subpar history lesson and inattention to detail forced me to extract the necessary information myself. It would’ve been fine, except all that work amounted to nothing. Your lack has become my problem, ergo…”
Wait.
Scanning the Demons, he searched their haggard faces as the beat of his heart picked up speed. They were changed from their month spent wasting away, gaunt and filthy, but not so much he wouldn’t be able to find one in particular if he was here.
Ah! Yes.
“Oh, this gets better and better.”
He closed the distance, more pleased than ever he’d chosen to secure the group in a rounded offshoot from the main cavern. The tight circle would ensure they could all see.
“Fate’s favor shines upon me once again.” He grabbed Aldiat’s clenched jaw and jostled his head before slamming it onto the stone wall. “Your sister and your best friend, Baldrir!”
Taking the whole contingent mid-battle had been something of a panicked decision on his part.
He’d been right in the middle of sending that meddlesome Fae to the Veil again when the attack had started, and he’d had to scramble.
Okthana told him he would know when her ‘surprise’ was in play, and she’d been right.
He just hadn’t been ready for it. Whatsoever.
His fault, for underestimating her.
Then again, he could hardly be held accountable for her deciding to become an unpredictable fucking cunt lately.
“Here’s how this is going to work.” A new strategy came together as he walked backwards into the center of the space, keeping his gaze on Baldrir.
“I made you a promise I intend to keep. You’re going to watch as I slowly disassemble your friends.
I’d like you to take the opportunity to dig deep.
Remember everything you can. That way, by the time I make it to those who matter most, you fully understand the stakes of any ongoing incompetence. ”
“They have nothing to do with this,” Baldrir hissed. “I’ll tell you the Breamwyrm story again, every version I know, and whatever else you want. Just let them go.”
“I don’t think you’re understanding me, so let me simplify.
There are fourteen of you here. At least ten will be peeled apart layer-by-layer because I fucking told you what would happen if you let me down, and I’m a firm believer in following through.
That said, I’m willing to make you another promise: learn your lesson, give me something I can actually use by the time I’m done with them, and Nyri, Aldiat, and Frida will die swift deaths as a reward.
If not, I’ll ensure what they experience is multitudes worse than anything else you’re about to witness.
” He raised his voice, spinning in a leisurely circle.
“That goes for all of you. Disclose something relevant, and your pain ends.”
“Just kill us and be done with it!” Nyri shouted. “None of us are going to say a word to help you, so you may as well save yourself the effort.”
Night spare him from any more headstrong females. Endellion and Okthana were already exhausting the meager limits of his patience.
He went right up to her, dropping his head to look her in the eye and be sure she was paying attention. “I understand your feelings for me are less than positive. I’d like for all of you to try adjusting your mindsets. Don’t think of it as helping me, per se…”
Loosing a fraction of his considerable power, he donned Baldrir’s likeness and pinched her chin, tilting her face closer so he could watch the fear take root.
“More along the lines of everyone you know and love.”
Another burst, and he was wearing Hedda’s skin, the hitch in her breath nothing compared to the silent calculation he knew was taking place—that scrambling in the mind while she tried to figure out whether this was the first time he’d done so in her presence.
It was, but she didn’t know that.
“If it fit into my plans, I could bring all of Straelon to its knees.”
When he reshaped himself into Lyriat, her lip began to tremble, that effervescent spark she carried through life fading the tiniest bit.
Beautiful.
“Until now, the triflings of a single realm have been beneath me, the scope of my goals encompassing far more than you could ever dream of. However, if you’d like to continue being difficult, I’m willing to deviate from my current venture for a little while.”
One last shift, just to drive his point home.
“You…” she whispered, the tears in her brown eyes spilling over as realization dawned.
“As you can see, I’d have some finagling to do, but I’d be happy to take the extra time to prove to you that I really, really do not fuck around when I want something, Nyriadne.”
Their stunned silence was like a drug, but he knew a way to improve upon the buzz starting up in his veins.
“Now that we understand one another,”—Misting through the ether, he appeared before a grizzled male and thrust the hairpin directly into his eye socket—“shall we begin?”