Page 69 of The Sea Witch's Son

Rolling my eyes at the dramatics, I roll up my sleeves and walk towards the clearing.

Hao Yu sits slumped over, his wrists and ankles tied to a folding chair. I study the bruises blooming along his cheekbones and the misshapen angle of his legs. Blood drips from the chair onto the ground, and I must admit, it is some of Gus' finer work.

Squatting down in front of him, I tilt his limp neck until swollen eyes meet mine.

“Do you know who I am?”

Dark bloodstains run from a crushed nasal frame to the thin curve of his lips.

“Marlin Seaborn.” Hao spits out my name, hacking up a piece of phlegm right on my polished shoes.

Pulling out a handkerchief from my pocket, I bend down and wipe it off.

“I’ve always been fond of my name. It is one I chose myself at a trying age.” I toss the cloth onto the ground, “Foolish men choose wise labels and wise men choose foolish ones. It is why names hold so much power. So much honour, especially in your culture.”

“The Seaborn family has no honour.” Bloody teeth snap together, “Using tricks of the mind is the way of the coward, not the way of the warrior.”

“Ah, yes. Your father was quite the warrior.” Sitting back on my heels, I smile, “Part of the original terrorist group who attacked the Great Wall of China. The Huns, I believe they were called.”

Hao looks at me with spiteful eyes. I stare right back, making sure my smile stays perfectly in place.

“But now he's nothing more than a lowly contract killer. Paid for hire, a man who operates under the Dragon’s watchful eye.” My shoulder lifts in a shrug, “Not quite the honourable warrior, after all.”

He glares at me, “Say whatever lies you wish to speak of my family. I will not answer your questions.”

“What if we start with a really simple one?” Titling my head, I watch his expression carefully, “What is the most honourable act a warrior can do?”

A few blinks of confusion, but no response.

“Would it be sacrificing one’s body for national pride? Charging into battle without a moment of hesitation?” Mysmile widens, “Or perhaps, it is something as simple as facing one’s greatest fear.”

Those dark eyes narrow, “I have no fear.”

“Is that so?”

“The children of Shan Yu.” More spitting, “Have no fear. We do not fear death, pain or suffering. There is no torture you can perform that will break the bond between the strength of the mind and the power of the body.”

“Veryimpressive.” Pushing myself up to standing, I glance down at his broken legs, “However, it is not your body I am interested in breaking. Especially since not much of it is in use anymore.”

I snap my fingers to capture the brawn’s attention.

“Gus?”

“Yeah?”

“Put him in the trunk.”

Stepping back, I watch Hao get untied and dumped in the trunk of my car. He starts to struggle against the bond holding his wrists captive, the battered state of his lower half remaining crumpled and unresponsive in the dark compartment.

“Do you know what a phobia is, Hao?”

Walking around to the passenger seat, I grab the package I secured at the pet store.

“It’s a commonly used term, but not often defined. I like to think of it as an anxiety disorder. One that is triggered by a particular object, event, or situation.”

“You speak nonsense.” Hao’s head thumps the bottom of the trunk, “I do not suffer from anxiety and you are a fool to believe otherwise.”

“The fascinating thing about a phobia is it often stems from traumatic experiences, childhood in particular.” The box shifts anxiously in my hands, “In your case, this hidden phobia is thanks to your twin brother.”

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