Page 115 of Gift from the Wing

I’ve been rapidly moving through the walls, giving quick glances around the rooms, but the second I pass through the corner of this one, I slow. There’s no outside magic surrounding it whatsoever.

Sticking close to the wall, I slowly walk around the corridor blocking my view and muffling the voice I hear. I stop to observe my surroundings once the fucker I’ve been looking for comes into sight.

There’s no one in here with him. He’s talking to himself, pacing around the huge lab.

“Found him. About to move in. He has an entire lab stationed here. No hostages. Send someone up here to retrieve this shit,”I tell Tillman and feel his hope rise.

I’ve been a little preoccupied since I last said something to him, so it’s only now that I pay attention to everyone’s sense of dread. It’s so strong, I could confuse it as my own.

Fuck, that can’t be good.

Knocking a row of beakers off the counter with my hand, I push myself up and perch my ass on the side, smiling as he whips around, startled. I’ll give him credit. He straightens himself up very quickly and doesn’t cower or try to run. Yet.

“Well, well, well. I like what you’ve done with the place,” I say smugly.

“Caspian Vito, we meet again.” He attempts to nonchalantly step behind his desk. I just roll my eyes. As if that scrap of wood will protect him from me.

“That we do…Sorry, do I call you Deinde-Master or Doctor?”

His bravado slips for just a moment and then he schools his features again, but I catch it and tilt my lips up enough just to let him know I did.

“Whichever you prefer.”

“To be honest, I don’t give a fuck, nor do I have time for pleasantries. We need to get going, so are we doing this the hard or easy way?” I ask, clapping and rubbing my hands together.

“I won’t be going anywhere with you,” he shouts dramatically and attempts to transport out.

“I’m a little offended you thought of me as such a fool. You’re obviously a smart man,” I say sarcastically, gazing around. “Did you think I’d just make my presence known and not be prepared for you to try to leave me so soon?”

The smug bastard was too distracted to even notice both my ice and shadows crawling around his feet, locking him in place.

Hopping off the counter, with each step I take, I command my gift and element to continue their crawl up his body and by the time I reach him, they’re beginning to form around his neck.

“You and I are going to have some fun, while you tell me everything about whatever the fuck you injected into my Primary’s sister. If my recollection serves me—which it does—your enforcers beat me for an hour straight and not a peep passed my lips. Let’s see how long you hold out.” I throw my head back, laughing, then latch my hand around his neck and transport us out.

Fucker has no idea the pain I have coming for him.

I pop us right into my favorite torture room in the dungeon.

Why is it my favorite? Fuck if I know. Probably because it’s the coldest room down here, but my dads and brothers know this is my room and no one can torture anyone in here without me.

It’s muscle memory for me at this point to pop in right in the perfect spot, shove the asshole into his seat, and have the magical cuffs snapped in place all in the matter of seconds.

My smirk has his thrashing stilling and the panic streaking across his face smooths out as he looks around the room. The rise and fall of his chest never calms, though. Despite the collected and in control persona he’s trying to show me, he’s failing miserably. I’ve lived my life with the most in control person to walk this realm. This scum is nothing compared to him.

“Darstein, correct?” I ask as I plop my own ass on the chair in front of him.

“We both know you already know the answer to that. Get to the point,” he says tensely.

“Have it your way. I was giving you an opportunity to get comfortable before we began, but I guess you’re not a man for foreplay,” I say huffing, slapping my hands on my knees, then pushing up from the seat.

My shadows lash out faster than he has time to flinch and slice his shirt open, exposing his unmarked chest and the one or two cuts they left behind. I tilt my head to the side curiously, while he cries out over the little paper cuts. There’s no doubt he’s marked somewhere, but I was honestly expecting a huge-ass branding on his heart with his standing in the Mastery.

“This is a pleasant surprise, Darstein. It’s not often that I’m wrong. If your mark isn’t on your heart, it must be on your head. But why?” I ask, tapping a dagger made of my gift against my lips.

“If you know about the marks, you know as well as I do that I can’t talk. So if you’re going to kill me, just do it already.”

His tone is almost pleased, as if he’s proud he’ll be dying with his lips sealed. Stupid, fool.

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