Chapter 16 Zuko
zuko
. . .
The air in the HQ’s interrogation chamber was too clean. It smelled of sterilized steel and old heat. It was the kind of old heat scent that clung to areas where large amounts of blood had been before.
Dad always said you could tell what kind of torture room you were in by the air. If it reeked of fresh blood, it was personal. If it was sterile, it was business.
So, yeah. This chamber was all business.
I stood next to my dad. We stood near the far wall, wearing the council-issued suits.
Across from him, two other figures leaned against a glass table in the center. Rowan, the firedrake representative, and Damien, my torture-mentor, alongside my dad.
Damien leaned over the table with all the poise of the shadow demon he was. “Hey, sunshine.” He grinned at me. “Did you miss me?”
“As much as I’d miss a nail in my eyelid.” I winced at the memory of the last lesson he’d taught me. “What’re we doing, D? Dad promised me something fun this time.”
“Oh, it’s fun,” he said, gray eyes glinting with something feral. “Our friend today is a phoenix. You know how they are. They’re much too dramatic to die properly. Thankfully, we have my brother-mate here to be a bit more motivating with his drake fire.”
Rowan grunted in response.
I looked toward the center of the room where Ignis Ashcrest was strapped to a reinforced chair, arms pinned by tourmalyke crystal.
His once-perfect suit was in tatters on the ground, and a lone burnt feather matted with dried blood was on his cheek.
His hair stuck to his forehead in damp patches as he glared at us with defiance.
The scent of charred flesh hung faintly in the air, even with the ventilation enchantments.
“Well, shit,” I murmured.
Rowan’s expression didn’t change. “He’s been broken physically but not mentally.”
“Broke the firedrake, though,” Damien added casually. “She confessed rather quickly. Said something about a stormdrake scale and a prophecy. Rowan thinks it’s bullshit.”
“Unfactual,” Rowan corrected. “She believes she was stealing scales for some greater purpose, but she didn’t know what. The orders came from him.” He nodded toward Ignis. “Besides, Drecken did mention something about a prophecy earlier. I need to talk to him more about that.”
I almost forgot how old Drecken was and that he was friends with the infamous Council Head.
Ignis spat blood onto the floor. “You think you’ve won? I’m a phoenix. You can kill me a hundred times, and I’ll still come back.”
Damien tilted his head. “I know. You die far too fast to play with your organs properly.”
I barked a laugh. “That’s as poetic as the Veil, D. Mind if I take a turn?”
Dad gestured for Ignis. “He’s all yours. Try not to kill him, though. It’s a pain to put tourmalyke cuffs back on.”
“Oh, trust me.” I set my bag down on the table. “I’ve got plenty of games to avoid killing him.”
“Careful though, he’s sensitive.” Damien mocked him with a pout. “Died after just twisting his guts a little.”
Ignis gagged at the memory.
I rolled my eyes and pulled my dice out.
“The rules are simple.” I rolled the dice across the glass table.
They clattered against it, spinning like tiny blocks before stopping.
Two for two. “I roll, we get a number, and we do something fun. Sometimes I’ll roll one to get a chance at one, but I usually roll two.
Four dots,” I counted out loud, smiling.
“Ah, a favorite. Cherries soaked in my venom.”
From my kit, I withdrew a small fruit jar and plucked out a glossy red cherry. I held it between two fingers and let venom drip from my fingertips onto it. “My venom causes seizures and makes you foam at the mouth until you pass out. Don’t worry, it won’t kill you.”
Ignis’s jaw tightened.
I walked forward and held the cherry to his mouth, careful not to let the venom touch his lips so it didn’t affect him too early.
He clenched his teeth.
Damien stepped forward, shadows snaking around him. “Ignis, you don’t want me to feed it to you. You won’t like my bedside manner. Zuko is much sweeter than me.”
The phoenix opened his mouth slightly, and I shoved it in.
The sound he made after swallowing was something between a gasp and a sob. It wasn’t pain yet, but it was the body’s acknowledgment of what was coming.
His skin flushed bright before he started to seize.
Rowan’s flames flickered faintly in the reflection of Ignis’s eyes. “You do enjoy your work.”
“Artistry requires patience,” I said, rolling the dice again.
Damien wiped a fake tear away. “I taught him well.”
“He’s my son,” Dad grumbled.
“We taught him well,” Damien corrected with a smirk. “You would’ve helped me train Jayce if you had been in your position when he was trainable.”
“Your son is terrifying.” Dad shivered. “I don’t think I could teach him anything.”
I had to agree. Jayce was a copy and paste version of Damien’s brutality, but he had Rowan’s gruff and quiet demeanor.
“He’s not that bad.” Rowan shrugged. “Besides, he’s been busy with our grandkids lately.”
Damien groaned. “I can’t believe we have grandkids. Wren’s so cute when she plays with them. It reminds me of when she raised ours. I want to get her pregnant again.”
“No, Damien.” Rowan sighed. “Do you not remember the litter she had? We have eight children already, and three of them already have their own kids.”
“We only have Zuko.” Dad whistled. “I can’t imagine more than one.”
“Please stop talking about family,” Ignis wheezed, having finally stopped seizing and foaming at the mouth. “It feels wrong.”
“If you insist, we will continue playing.” I rolled the die again and got an eight.
“Beetles,” I said cheerfully, grabbing the beetles from my bag and placing their habitat on his shoulder. “One for each ear.”
Damien laughed softly. “Classic.”
The small onyx beetles crawled from the enchanted glass with delicate precision.
Ignis jerked, slurring his gibberish since my venom was still thrumming through his system.
I whispered, “Go play,” and my beetles scurried toward Ignis’s head, vanishing inside through each ear.
He flinched, eyes wide, body tensing as their tiny feet probably scraped across his eardrums.
I leaned close, tilting my head. “You can hear them, can’t you? The scratching? That’s the sound of insanity.”
The air around Rowan shimmered with restrained heat.
I rolled the dice again.
Ten dots.
“Liquid Tourmalyke,” I said, pulling a syringe from my bag. The silver needle gleamed under the light. “You already have on the cuffs, but I’m curious how it being injected into your veins will affect you.”
“How do you even have that?” Rowan muttered.
“I gave it to him,” Dad and Damien said in sync.
Rowan huffed.
I slid the needle into his neck.
He screamed. It was my favorite kind. A raw, tearing sound that made Damien’s smile widen.
“Ah, there it is,” I murmured. “Music.”
Damien chuckled. “You stole that line from me.”
I shrugged. “I was feeling sentimental.”
We went through the different games one by one as I rolled.
Damien helped me pluck his eyes out and put them in jars.
I shoved nails under his skin.
My scorpion stung his thigh.
I dropped acid on his cheek, and we appreciated the sound of the acid hissing when it made contact with his skin.
Every scream of his was unique. Some were sharp, some were filled with harrowing agony, and some were half-choked as his body struggled to regenerate mid-torture.
But through it all, he never once begged me to stop.
By the time we reached the fourteenth roll, the room reeked of smoke and blood.
Ignis’s chest rose in ragged heaves. His healing slowly attempted and failed to fully heal the damage to his body.
“Still alive,” I muttered, glad I hadn’t fucked up and killed him accidentally in front of my dad, mentor, and the Council Head. “This is bullshit.”
Damien leaned on the table, exasperated. “I know. I removed his spine earlier. He still managed to grow it back before I finished whipping him with it.”
Rowan’s jaw flexed, flames curling around his fist. “When this is over, I’m killing him.”
“Not yet,” Dad said evenly. “We need answers.”
I unwrapped the bandage from around my head, freeing my eyes.
Damien let out a delighted little hum. “Oh, I’ve missed those pretty orange eyes.”
“Aw, thanks, D.” I crouched down, face inches from Ignis’s. “Talk to us, Ignis. I mean, you already fucked up your cover. Might as well tell us why.”
He spat again. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Why the scales, Ignis?” I asked again. “Listen, I know you can feel the pain. Clearly, pain isn’t working. It’s not the first time pain hasn’t coerced someone into telling the truth.”
He laughed through his blood-coated teeth. “You’ll never stop us. The scales are already gone.”
I leaned closer, my eyes staring into his. My special power burned my irises as I prepared to pull the truth from him. “Okay, but what are you doing with them?”
“Resur…” He bit his own tongue off.
Blood spewed, and I barely dodged it. “Fuck!”
“Wait. You have the ability to pull the truth from someone and didn’t use it earlier?” Rowan grumbled.
“I’m being taught not to rely on it at the academy,” I defended. “Sorry.”
“Lot of good that was anyway,” Dad gestured to the phoenix bleeding out, but his tongue was regenerating quickly.
Before we were able to stop him, he bit his tongue off again.
“Fucking stop!” Damien’s patience snapped. He slammed a hand against the table, shadows spidering across the floor. “Fine. Let’s bring in someone who might motivate you.”
The shadows thickened as Damien vanished into them.
A few seconds later, he emerged, dragging a woman by the arm. Her eyes were wild with terror. She wore a pencil skirt and blouse, with her pale blonde hair disheveled. Blood was already dripping down her cheek.
Damien threw the icedrake woman to the floor in front of Ignis. “Guess what, Ignis? I found your little girlfriend. Secretary for the Council’s finance wing. Do you actually like her, or is she just easy?”
Ignis’s entire body went rigid, and he didn’t bite off his tongue again as his eyes fluttered open. “Don’t touch her.”
“Interesting,” Damien said, circling them both. “So you do care.”
She was crying, shaking so hard her voice barely made a sound. “Please—I didn’t…he said he’d protect me!”
I watched Ignis’s mask crack. The defiance melted away quickly, replaced by panic. His throat bobbed. “Let her go. Please.”
“Then talk,” Rowan said coldly. “Let Zuko ask you again.”
I leaned down, channeling my magic again as I maintained eye contact. My power finally latched on right, and he didn’t move. “What are you doing with the scales?”
Ignis’s eyes glazed over. “There’s a group. It’s a cult. It’s called the Dragon Cult. They’re trying to resurrect Roak.”
Damien went still. “What?”
“Explain,” I urged him.
Ignis nodded frantically. “My contact’s on my tablet. Just let her go. She’s his bloodline, you see. You absolutely cannot—”
Rowan moved faster than I’d ever seen a firedrake move. His fist punched clean through Ignis’s heart, flames bursting from the wound, effectively killing him.
At the same moment, Damien’s shadows flared to life, slicing the woman’s head from her shoulders in a blur.
Her body hit the floor before her head did.
Ignis choked, eyes widening as his last breath rattled out. His corpse hit the ground in tandem with the thud of her decapitated head rolling to a stop.
Rowan exhaled, too calmly. “Damien.”
“What?”
“She was his leverage, not a threat.”
Damien scowled. “There’s no way she wasn’t involved. Didn’t you hear him say she’s his bloodline? I’m not risking that fucker being resurrected.”
Rowan wiped his hand on a towel, gaze dark. “You can justify it later, but she’s not the only bloodline of Roak. Not all of them deserve death. Perhaps she did, though. With her ties to Ignis.”
“See, dear brother-mate?” Damien nodded calmly. “I was right.”
Dad’s voice cut through. “Zuko.”
I blinked a few times and looked up. Rowan killing him while I had him stuck on my power made my head ache. “Yeah?”
“Let’s go.”
I nodded and grabbed my kit. The dice had blood soaked into the runes, but I shrugged and put them in the kit.
“Never waste good tools,” Dad said, watching me.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I chuckled.