Page 66 of Tyr

“Where’s my father?”

He wretched and gagged as foamy saliva fell onto the floor from his mouth. “I don’t know,” he gasped.

She blasted him again.

He curled in a ball and screamed a guttural sound, deep and animalistic.

“Where is he?”she demanded.

“I don’t know. I swear,” he cried.

Celeste released her blast and walked forward. Grabbing Amezodile by the head, she forced her way into his mind. He froze as she searched his memories. His hands gripped her wrists, and his jaw clenched.

She watched everything since the day she left, but there was nothing—not one memory of her father.

“Where is he?”

Amezodile’s grip tightened, and she delved deeper, and then, everything went blank. His eyes rolled back in his head, and blood oozed from every hole in his face.

She dropped him to the ground and turned back into the room.Guess I’ll have to get my answers elsewhere.

Anton had scampered behind his desk and reached for something under it.

“No more guns.” Celeste let out a mental blast that had Anton falling onto his desktop, flopping and writhing, scattering papers, pens, and everything else onto the floor.

Tyr jumped over the desk and grabbed Anton, jerking him upward. Celeste immediately pulled back her mental powers.

Tyr twisted Anton’s arm until the shoulder popped, and a crack sounded.

Anton screamed.

“Shhhhh…” Tyr said. “Don’t scream yet. We are just getting started. You should save the screams for when I get going.” He yanked Anton’s head back, and Anton stared straight at Celeste.

Tyr drew close to Anton’s ear. “You see that woman? That beautiful, perfect creature? She’s my mate, and you hurt her. Used her. Tried to break her. But you didn’t. Even so, I am going to break every bone in your body. Then, I am going to ask you a question. If I don’t get the right answer, I will start cutting pieces of you off. Pieces you like. Pieces you need. Maybe even a few you don’t.”

Tyr slammed his metal fist down on Anton’s open palm, and the bone crunched beneath the blow.

Again, Anton screamed. “Please. Please. Ask me anything. I’ll tell you whatever you want.”

Tyr shook his head. “Pain first, question second.”

Tyr reached in and bit into Anton’s ear, ripping it from his head and flinging it across the room. Then, he flipped Anton over, raised his fist over his head, and brought it down heavily on Anton’s chest. Celeste watched as several of Anton’s ribs cracked. She wanted to be the one to hurt him. To see him squirm and writhe. But something told her not to interfere.

“That’s enough,” Celeste’s mother yelled.

Tyr looked at her, and a wicked smile crossed his face before he turned to Celeste. “How many bones of yours did he break,Fylgja? Ten, twelve, fifteen?” His gaze swung to her mother again. “When I’ve tripled that number, then maybe it will be enough.”

Tyr grabbed one of Anton’s knees and with a sickening pop, broke it.

Celeste swallowed hard.

Tyr’s thoughts invaded her mind. Images of things he’d done in the past. Things he was prepared to do to Anton as well.

A perverse part of her delighted in his power. More and more images bombarded her, and Celeste had to raise her barrier.

“Please,” Anton begged. “Stop. For the love of God, stop.”

Tyr cocked his head to the side. “What god? Me? Odin? Thor? Or maybe a different god. Zeus, perhaps.” Tyr shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. None of us love you.”

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