CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
Davien
MY MIND WAS reeling with all the possibilities of what they were going to do to Ailsa.
I was tied to a metal chair that was anchored to the floor.
Nothing but concrete walls surrounded me.
A prison of grey. I was all too familiar with the interrogation rooms in the bowls of the Ninth, only I was usually the one doing the interrogating.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed because they’d used a tranquiliser to put me down, but I was certain it couldn’t have been too long.
I couldn’t hear what was going on beyond this room—the chambers were intentionally soundproofed and air controlled—but I had no doubt they had Ailsa in a similar room, likely restrained as I was.
The only saving grace was that I hadn’t felt any of her heightened emotions through the bond my oath to her to created which led me to conclude that they hadn’t harmed her, yet at least. My breathing was steady, calm as I prepared myself for what was to come.
I wouldn’t tell them anything.
They’d have to kill me first.
I wouldn’t betray her, Cathal or the network.
My thoughts returned to Besian—as he’d called himself—as I tore through my mind for any recollection of him, but I couldn’t place him.
He told a high tale but as much as I didn’t want to believe him, he fit the profile for who we’d been hunting.
He was ancient, unhinged, different to the vampires of this age, but a vampire no less.
It explained why the crime scenes had been so confusing.
But what on hell’s fresh earth was he doing working with Valerius.
And how had he woken from his millennia of deep sleep.
That alone was an interesting one. I’d heard of true borns forced into sleep, into a state of desecration.
Though when—if—they woke, they were typically mad from the lack of blood and years of torture, and weakened to an extreme.
That didn’t seem to hold true for Besian.
Which only deepened the mystery around him.
He was too strong to ignore. He’d be a problem for sure… if we ever made it out of this mess, that was. I wondered what Besian’s angle was and if he could potentially be used against Valerius.
I was ripped from my thoughts by the stench of Brandon entering the room.
He eyed me with sadistic humour in his gaze.
“Davien,” he said, like my name was a curse.
When I didn’t respond he spat at me, but the problem for him was that I was well aware of what he was doing.
I wrote the fucking playbook he was playing by. He wouldn’t get a rise out of me.
I was happy to meet death head on.
He slowly circled me, “Why did you hide her from us?”
I refused to answer.
“What’s your real agenda?”
Again, my lips stayed sealed. My eyes fixed on the hard concrete beneath my feet.
“What is her magic?”
“Who are you working with?”
“Where were you planning to go?”
“How long have you been betraying us?”
“Who do you work for?”
“Is your maker a part of this?”
The questions kept coming and silence remained my only response.
“Maybe a change in tactics will make you more inclined to talk.”
My heart sank at the understanding.
My jaw clenched as I felt her pain tear through my body. It felt as though they’d hit me but it was so much worse because I knew it was her pain rather than my own I felt.
“Fuck you,” I spat.
“So you can speak, how marvellous. Now, let’s try this again.”
I clamped my jaw shut, my muscles flexing with each question I refused to answer. I stared daggers at him, picturing multiple ways in which I’d kill him the second I got a chance. Maybe I’d cut off his dick and make him eat it. Or maybe, I’d cut him to pieces limb by limb.
The questions kept coming on repeat, but with each, a new flare of pain erupted over me without anyone touching me.
They were fucking torturing her because of me.
I lunged forward, my muscles bulging against my restraints as I fought like an animal to end him for doing this to her.
If I answered their fucking questions it would put her in even more danger.
“Fucking hit me instead you coward,” I snarled.
I’d been tortured before, I could take it.
Part of me knew she could too, but that didn’t mean I wanted her to have to.
I pictured that coy smile of hers, the sound of laughter after some sarcastic remark.
And then the brutal reality of what I knew they were doing to her just a few doors down, while I sat here helplessly like the pathetic failure I was.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He teased.
“Sadistic little fuck. No, I think we’re going about this the right way.
Besides, as much as I’d love to give you a beating, I’m told that unlike you, she’s answering our questions.
Says she has no love for you and doesn’t give a shit about you.
She’s telling us all of your dirty little secrets. ”
A humorous laugh slipped through my gritted teeth.
“It doesn’t matter what she does or doesn’t say,” I spat on the floor at his feet.
“I don’t play when it comes to her. And I’ll make sure that when I get out of here that ugly face of yours will be left unrecognisable to the point where even your own mother wouldn’t fucking recognise you when I’m done with you for what you’ve done. ”
“’When’ being the imperative word here. You’re never getting out of here. But don’t worry, we won’t ruin her… yet. Valerius has plans for her yet.”
I bit my tongue to refrain from answering back and engaging in this little war of words. That’s what he wanted. To get under my skin but he didn’t know me.
Silence was all he’d get from me from now on.
Night shifted to day and the questions kept coming.
The flares of her pain had stopped. I hoped it was because they realised that hurting her wouldn’t get them answers, and if I played the part of believing they’d hurt her to get to me, she might be spared further assaults.
It also affirmed my suspicions that they needed her for something far greater than this.
They couldn’t risk accidentally damaging her beyond repair.