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Fortunately, I run an organization that specializes in the transportation of people, yet not all of my staff are large, strapping men equipped to do the job. It takes some stealth and maneuvering, but I manage on my own with numerous tools to assist.
My instincts have seldom led me astray, and right now they are screaming at me to find out what I can from Sin without Kris’s interference or his men. And of course, there’s my other guest who may be able to enlighten me that much further.
Once I have the truth, I’ll deal with Kris. Until I’m sure I can trust him and his judgement, I do this alone.
I wipe sweat from my brow and look down at my handiwork, the two men trussed up and chained. Huntske is in a fucking state, but there’s a chance I can still get something out of him.
Sin stirs slightly in his sleep, a light groan telling me I don’t have much longer to wait.
“Wake up,” I kick Huntske’s foot. “It’s almost time.”
The man’s head lolls to the side, but other than that, he doesn’t move. I frown, crossing my arms.
Sin starts to moan again, but the sound is cut off, a slight jangle of his chain telling me he’s awake even though his body stills. Ignoring him, I look back to Huntske, who looks nothing like he did a few days ago. His skin would be white if not for the blossom of bruises and blood covering it. Along with his fingernails, it looks like several teeth are missing, and the faint smell coming off him tells me something on him is beginning to rot. My nose crinkles. Usually, we would not let someone get this far gone. I don’t doubt Huntske has spilled what he knew to Kris already, so why is he even still alive?
I may be a torture artist, but I only torture when I need to. I’m not a sadist; I get no joy in others’ pain. However, the rush of power in having someone under me is something I won’t deny.
Turning back to the small medical bag I brought, I rifle through the glass vials.
“The fucking whiskey,” Sin’s voice mutters behind me. I snigger but don’t turn around.
“You should know better,” I admonish. “Ahh, here!”
I turn around with the vial and a syringe and give Sin a small smile. His eyes land on the vial and there’s a sound of warning in his throat. I give him a wink.
“Don’t worry, this one isn’t for you. You’d like that way too much,” I inform him, moving over to Huntske. I get the syringe ready before injecting it into the passed-out man.
“What is it?” Sin asks.
“I’m actually quite proud of this one,” I tell him while I put away the supplies. Huntske groans and I raise my voice. “It’s a special compound I helped create that will help, how do you say, restore people.”
Sin darts a glance at Huntske who is chained up, too, though clearly less than himself. Where Huntske has bars over his ankles and hands, Sin is strapped down from neck to toe. Without me, he isn’t getting out. Unless he actually is fucking Houdini or something.
“I’m not too worried about him getting out,” I wave, and Sin actually looks amused at that, though with his neck chained to the chair as it is, he can’t move his head.
I sit back and watch as Huntske begins to wake up.
“It’s like giving someone a huge line of speed or meth or something,” I explain to Sin. “Enough to get them going for a while, but just a while. Ain’t no drug that can fix this mess. But it does allow for certain things, and time is all I need right now. Time and information.”
I turn back to Sin, walking up to him slowly with my eyes on his. Once in front of him, I bend so we’re at eye level.
“I will find out your story,” I tell him, my voice sure and calm. I nod toward Huntske. “He knows you, so I’ll find out what I can from him. He’ll be easier to break than you. But even still, I can’t trust rumors, and that’s all he’ll give.”
“Wo bin ich.” The corners of my lips turn up when Huntske starts moaning in German, yet I don’t turn to him.
“And whatever you may think, Icanbreak you,” I continue to tell Sin. “That would take time, though, and that’s one thing I don’t have. Or rather, I’m an impatient bitch. I like instant gratification. So,Sin, will you tell me your story?”
“Let me go,” Huntske sobs behind me in English, and I roll my eyes.
“Shut up,” I boom as I turn and backhand him in the same motion. His head bobs, and his sobs continue, but he stops talking.
“Wait your turn,” I continue, pointing a finger at him. Huntske’s eyes dart to Sin then at me, wisely shutting up. I look back to Sin. His eyes are dark, burning into mine, and mine burn back, imploring him.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he finally says through gritted teeth.
“I hardly think you’re in any position to make a deal.”
“No chains,” he says.
