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Shaking his head again, he hummed a “no” sound, squinting so he could try to see.
I tutted. “Let’s try again.” I unbuckled the clasp on the gag, letting it drop to the floor. Jordan coughed, closing his mouth and opening it again, trying to stretch his jaw. “Your loudmouth friend in Gold and Garnet is dead,” I said, looking to see his reaction, but he gave none.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he wheezed, his voice scratchy. His heartbeat remained elevated but steady. Except one little skip when he’d learned his friend’s fate. A tiny twitch in his cheek. A slight fidget in his fingers.
He’d given himself away, and I smiled. I continued to pace around his form, out of sight, then in his periphery, stopping right in front of him again and again as I questioned him.
“I think you do.” I held my hand in front of him, flicking my wrist, conjuring a knife that formed from the magic beneath my skin. My magic. My gift as a master vampire. And it elicited fear from whomever witnessed its becoming. It slid into my palm effortlessly, and I grazed the sharp edge down his cheek, tracing the jawline, traveling down the length of his neck, over the collarbone, around the pectoral muscle. His breath hitched, and I stabbed the short blade into the muscle, then twisted.
Jordan cursed and growled in pain. Through a tense voice, he managed to grind out, “If this is about Katie, you can have her.”
“Wrong answer.”
Ysa snorted, and I grabbed his jaw, prying it open, holding it in a firm grip while he struggled to keep calm. I pointed a new blade at his gums, then burrowed the steel into the soft and tender flesh while his muted screams filled the air. Carving around the tooth and digging into the root, I cut out a fang and threw it down by his feet.
Blood poured from his mouth, and he moaned, gasping for air and coughing simultaneously.
“Strike two,” I said, kicking the tooth across the floor. Taking a step back, I observed his movements.
Jordan shook his head, inhaling deeply, trying to recover and let his body heal. “I would never betray my House.” He looked at me, hate flashing in his eyes. It was at that moment I saw how deep his deception went. He wasn’t mine. Maybe he never had been.
“Ah. I see now. How long?” I asked, crossing my arms and shifting my weight to one foot. No answer. “This is a question of mere curiosity. You’ve been playing both sides. How long have you been in Fire and Fluorite?”
Jordan squeezed his eyes shut, taking in sharp, ragged breaths. “I don’t answer to you,” he ground out.
I chuckled, tilting my head as I looked at him. “You will.”
I had been waiting for proof. Desperate to find it. Mathis had covered his tracks so well. Yes, King Vesperus and Empress Asbesta knew of his treachery. They wanted him dead as much as I did. Other Houses merely tolerated him, but I knew some were on his side. I couldn’t make a move on him without proof. It would start another war. Too many lives would be lost. Too many souls shattered, and families broken. I would take him down, but I would go about it the right way. I would prove to the other Houses what he was, and with the treaty, they would back me. What I had working to my advantage was that no one wanted a war. Not even Fire and Fluorite’s allies.
Ysa reached my side, touching my arm lightly in warning. “Elias.” She shook her head slightly. “I’ll get Kieran. We need Jordan alive.”
“Oh, I know.” I cracked my knuckles. “I have no intention of killing him.”
She was right. I needed him alive. I could get the truth from him. It was a power only a few knew I possessed. But it came with a great cost to the one I used it on.
Death.
Jordan wouldn’t get that from me.
His chest rose in rapid shudders as he started to laugh, the sound exhaling through his nose. “You think you know what’s going on, but you have no idea.” He sniffed, then spat out a mouthful of blood on the floor, tilting his head up to look at me.
“Is this the part where you allude to your evil plans, throwing out idle threats and expecting me to react?” I asked while sifting through the various items on the table. The usual. Pliers, electrodes, other sharp objects. Oh, a cattle prod. I held it up, shaking it in his direction. “This could be fun, yeah?”
“Your arrogance will be your end.”
“Of course it will. A snakebite isn’t a very heroic way to go for a vampire. In the meantime . . .” I turned the instrument on, hearing the telltale buzz that could cause anyone near it to tremble. Its shock was jolting and powerful, sending the pain into the depth of a victim’s bones if held against the skin long enough. Glancing at him, I said, “I’m not overly concerned. I’ve survived much worse than you.”
“Dannika hasn’t,” he sneered, and I snapped my head in his direction. The leering grin that curled up his face spiked the rage inside me, mixing it with an emotion I hadn’t felt in a long time. “She’ll suffer for your failures, the same way your sister did.”
I sped toward him, and Ysa yelled for me to stop. I swung, landing my fist on his jaw. The resounding crack echoed off the cellar walls.
He manipulated his jaw, twisting it and moving it back and forth the way you would expect someone to do after just being hit. But his next statement sent a chill through me, and I knew I had screwed up. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he mumbled through a mouth full of blood. He clenched his teeth in an open grin, and an audible crunch sounded. The scent of magic filtered in the air, and a red mist released from Jordan’s nostrils, curling out of the corners of his mouth.
“No.” Ysa shouted and ran forward, grabbing his mouth and prying it open. “He had a capsule in his tooth. Get a witch, hurry!”
The poison was running its course and had already changed the color of his irises. Black lines formed around his eyes. It was magically enhanced ricin.
“We don’t have time.” Rushing to him, I put my hand on his jawline, shoving it up.
