Page 76 of Hateful Prince

Chapter

Twenty-Four

KAI

“Where should we make the first cut, lads?” Hook asked, flipping his dagger and catching it expertly by the blade.

“Start with his sweaty scrotum. It won’t kill him, but it’ll hurt like nothing else,” Tor snarled, stepping up behind Swiftie and grabbing him by the hair. “Hold still. If he nicks your femoral artery, there will be nothing for it. You’ll bleed out right here and now.”

“Works for me,” Hook said, stalking forward.

“N-no. Please, God, no,” he whimpered, his fear blooming in the room, filling the space with the rank stench of old sweat mingled with piss.

A tingling sense of uncertainty prickled the back of my mind. Something wasn’t quite right. “Wait,” I said.

“Wait? Are you serious? I’m in my element. This is where Captain Hook shines, boys. Don’t stop me now.”

I ignored him and focused on the innate sense of knowing tugging low in my belly. I’d interrogated my share of prisoners. My father had wanted to ensure I was prepared for every facet of my future position. This man was not reacting like a hardened criminal. If anything, he was acting... innocent. His fear was too genuine. His surprise unfabricated. This was not a show; the man was truly terrified. He wasn’t a ruthless serial killer.

We couldn’t torture an innocent man. We needed to be sure before we met out any version of justice.

“I need my kit.”

“I beg your pardon? Your kit?” Hook glared at me.

“We won’t get the truth from him this way. He’ll lose his mind first.”

“Welcome to the club.” Cas twirled his blade a few times before slamming it into the wood between Swiftie’s spread legs, narrowly missing his crotch. “Once you get used to the voices, it’s not so bad. Except for the constant tick, tick, ticking. That’s the one that will have you reaching for your blade and attempting to puncture your own eardrums.”

Tor and I exchanged looks before refocusing on Caspian. Just how far gone was Dahlia’s pirate? There was no missing the feverish gleam in his eyes now that we were looking for it.

I moved slowly, not wanting to startle him. “Why don’t you just give me this for now,” I said gently as I removed the dagger from the chair.

Caspian sulked, but didn’t fight me. Thank the goddess.

“So what do you suggest?” Tor asked, his fingers more claws than digits now.

“I can give him a tattoo. A rune that acts as a truth spell. He will never be able to utter a lie again without experiencing debilitating pain.”

“Wh-what?”

“Can it, Brian. We aren’t talking to you right now.” The sliver of growl in Caspian’s words had my dragon nodding in appreciation.

“Why not mention this before?” Tor asked, his eyes bottomless black pits.

“Dahlia seemed sure of Oz’s ability, not to mention her own certainty. It seemed redundant to offer.”

“And now?” he pressed.

“He smells like...” I was struggling to find the words to explain to them what I was sensing.

“Prey?” Tor offered.

But he didn’t. It was more like the opposite. Almost like this Brian was decidedly not prey. Prey were supposed to be hunted and devoured. My gut was telling me he was not.

“No,” I replied, sounding only just this side of sure.

The other two men looked at me with raised brows, waiting for me to elaborate. But I didn’t know how to.

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