Page 116 of Echoes of War

We were in some creepy-ass interrogation room I didn’t even know existed in their underground shelter. There was zero concern from Riley about him seeing the ins and outs of The Compound and telling his people about what we possessed. Motherfucker had no chance of making it out of here alive. Not that he knew that though—Riley had assured him that if he cooperated, he’d be released once the fighting was over. If the guy was smart in any capacity, he would have known that was a damn lie, but hey, here’s to false hope.

I leaned against the concrete wall, arms crossed, as I watched Riley get to work. We’d start off easy. If he gave us what we wanted, I’d let Riley give him whatever death he determined he deserved. The last thing this idiot should ever hope for is for me to get my turn.

So I hung by, waiting and watching as Riley strapped him to a metal chair, head secured at an upward angle. A bucket of ice-cold water hung above his head. Riley circled him, asking him for more information as the repetitive, monotonous drops of frigid water dripped onto his forehead. I began to doubt the quality of soldiers they were building over in Covert. The utter terror in his screams after a few hours gave me a shimmer of hope. Maybe we weren’t screwed after all. Still, he refused to answer any of Riley’s questions.

Riley’s eyes were hard. The man who brought fear to the people of Monterey Compound now before me. Sure, his tactics were more humane than what I would have chosen, but something told me he was just getting going. I was here to serve vengeance for the girl I loved, but Riley had someone to avenge.

He grumbled in frustration, tiring of the lack of information flowing. Coverts troops were closing in as each minute passed; if they weren’t coming today, then they were coming tomorrow. If they weren’t here tomorrow, I was certain we would not be granted a third day of peace. This soldier knew that and was simply biding his time.

I was tired and needed my rest. It had been more than twenty-four hours since I’d last slept. I needed to replenish my magic in preparation for what was to come. Getting Amaia the information she needed to make this a victory for us made me persevere. The relaxation that came from watching someone undergo torture would have to be enough.

Riley smacked the bucket down from the ceiling in a rage. “Agh! I’ll be back,” he said darkly, not looking over his shoulder as the door shut behind him.

The soldier rocked back and forth in his chair, the blindfold preventing him from being aware of my presence. I chuckled at his desperation. He jumped, head swiveling from side to side as if he’d be able to see through the dark cloth covering his eyes.

“Hello?” He whimpered. “Is anyone there?”

“Not anyone worth pleading to,” I cautioned, taking slow, melodic steps toward him.

His movements came to an abrupt halt as the sound of my boots tapped closer to his personal space. “You don’t have to do this. You can do the right thing. Set me free. I won’t tell them what happened here. I won’t tell them anything. You have my word.”

“Buddy, we can do this the hard way, or we can do this my way. One of those choices will make this less painful for you, and let me give you a hint. It’s not the latter.”

He considered his options, ultimately saying nothing. Riley strode back in, a buzzing noise following him into the dimly lit room. The healer from The Gardens followed close behind, an empty stare on his pale face.

Riley never met my eye, wrestling with the better, more humane parts of him no doubt. He held his arm out, a couple dozen wasps landing on it awaiting his command. The man obliged his silent order, handing him a clear container. Riley took it, guiding the wasps inside.

“Last chance to tell us Ronan Moore’s plans,” Riley offered.

It was a bullshit offer. He didn’t wait before slamming the man’s head into the container, holding it there as the wasps went crazy.That’s the big secret then? Son of a bitch can control bugs.I couldn’t contain my laughter as the soldier screamed out in distress. Riley smirked, secretly enjoying it before wiping it off his face as quickly as it appeared.

Riley’s guy came up behind the soldier, hand pressing to his face healing him. He stepped back giving Riley the space to demand answers again. When none came, he repeated the effort. On the third attempt, Riley realized we were no closer to unveiling Covert’s master plan.

I walked over to Riley, whispering in his ear, “Time to reevaluate the game plan here. It’s been hours. We need something more aggressive.”

With a stone-cold expression, Riley nodded in agreement. He walked over to the soldier, unstrapping him and kicking the chair out from underneath his body.

“Stand!” Riley commanded.

The soldier’s legs wobbled beneath him, the pain he went through not forgotten though he’d been healed. If he hadn’t spoken to me before, I would have assumed he was mute. Aside from his cries of agony, he had not uttered a word. I thought this would have been easy considering the drops of water had him falling into full panic mode.

He was a tougher son of a bitch than I’d thought.

“Amaia, needs answers, and that’s what I’m going to get her,” Riley uttered under his breath. The earth beneath us mimicked a whirlpool and Riley pushed us back against the wall. “You will not sleep, you will not rest until I know everything I believe is worth knowing about your weird-ass cult of a territory. Is that clear?”

Still, the soldier remained silent, his feet moving in obedience. Riley’s tone was always low, if you wanted to catch his words, it required you to listen close, but the soldier followed his commands. The quieter, the deadlier, everyone knew that.

I turned, studying the harshness of his usually kind features and wondered if Amaia had ever seen this side of him or if he’d kept this hidden from her. He’d always been gentle around her, caring, but a beast lay beneath the kindred spirit he presented her with. I saw right through it now, the pain that ran through his veins, recognized it as I recognized my own.

The ground moved faster, then slower, fucking up the soldier’s steps. He fell, unable to keep moving. Riley calmly walked over, straddling him down on the ground. Vines locked his limbs intoplace as Riley dumped water over his face, crafting a gag with the guy’s own shirt.

You don’t make a soldier like that—they’re born.

I was growing irritated. It was the next morning after we’d started this lackluster torture. We sat backs pressed against the wall, shoveling eggs and spam patties in our mouths like savages.Fuck, I forgot how good the food was here. I chucked some of the fruit Elie had dropped off at the door at the soldier’s face, a grape bounced off him onto the ground. He scrambled for it. Riley laughed as he opened up a small piece of earth beneath it, swallowing it whole.

“Hungry?” I teased.

The soldier groaned, his legs shot from being in motion overnight. He’d fallen asleep, his body on autopilot as his eyes closed. I’d offered him some coffee of course. I suppose it only helped if it wentinhis mouth and not on his face. We’d brought in Moe’s record player in the early hours, Bodies by Drowning Man played on repeat. The music reverberated off the walls, blasting at full power.

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