Page 90 of Choosing Jenny
“Borrowhow?” Longshot asked, and I was surprised that he was lucid enough to understand what was going on.
“I thought about throwing them into the royal prison, but have decided to take a more novel approach to things,” he said magnanimously. “Your loved ones will reside here, in the palace, as my personal guests. They will live in luxury until you have each proven yourselves trustworthy again, however long that takes. I’m not a complete monster…no harm will come to them unless one of you steps out of line. Attempt to kill me again, and theywillpay the price.”
“My son is my only heir!” Rasmine snapped. “It is a supreme offense to threaten a bloodline!”
“Iam the one who decides what a supreme offense is, Rasmine,” Justice snarled. “Or have you forgotten who I am?”
Noc’s hands curled into fists at his sides as he forced his voice to remain calm. “Ruler, my daughter is a child. She has nothing to do with any political—”
“Which is why she’s the perfect person to borrow from you, Noc,” Justice said without blinking. “I could have taken your consort, but you go through them like they’re robes. Briar is your first child in over fifty years. I know how much she means to you.”
Noc swallowed, and I didn’t miss the sheen of tears in his eyes. “What must I do for you to release her?”
“I told you. Prove I can trust you, however long I decide that takes. In the meantime, rest assured she will have a good life here at the palace. You and your consort can see her here anytime you like. Supervised, of course.”
“And me?” I asked, meeting Justice’s gaze directly. “That is Jenny’s sister, is it not?”
“Indeed she is.” Justice grinned, looking proud of himself. “She’s a striking human, would you not agree?”
I ignored his comment and focused on more important matters. “Rex…what has he done to her?” Right now, that was my biggest concern and fear.
Justice flicked his hand, and the monitors changed, showing three separate rooms in the palace. Each of the borrowed people were asleep, or rather still unconscious, in opulent bedrooms.
Elizabeth is already here…oh fuck.
“Rex has delivered her to me, unharmed,” he said, and I had no choice but to believe him. “Theborrowingis not up for debate. What is up for debate is this. If whoever hired the assassin confesses, I will consider granting clemency. I admire cunning and ambition, after all,” he said, though he didn’t specific what that clemency might include and with Justice it could still be something extremely brutal. “However, if no one steps forward and I find out who did hire the assassin, your associated guest will find themselves on this rack, and you will be forced to watch me do this.”
Stepping up to the contraption, he cranked a knob on the wheel, which tightened the restraints enough that something made a loud crack in the man’s body and he shrieked. “And I will do that to your guest slowly. Over a period of weeks. Until you watch them die from being split apart, bit by bit.” Then, he dramatically pulled the mask off the man.
Not Pierce. Thank the gods. Or anyone else I knew.
“I have never been anything but loyal to you, Justice!” Noc yelled out.
While Justice and Noc discussed his claim, I glanced at Longshot, whose eyes were still hooded from the trauma of regrowing his hand. “Do you know that guy?” I whispered to him.
“I have never seen him before,” he murmured. “You?”
I shook my head, trying to figure out who else was trying to kill Justice. The list was undoubtedly a long one.
“Why aren’t Rex or Zavarion or Thunder in here, Justice?” Rasmine demanded angrily. “They could be the ones responsible—”
Justice turned the knob again, forcing something else in the man to crackle and pop as his limbs stretched out unnaturally.
The man screamed in agony. “Vebber!” he wheezed between pants of breath. “It was Vebber who hired me!”
The room went deathly silent. All of us turned toward Rasmine.
His face drained of color. He knew he was caught.
Justice’s eyes narrowed on the warlord. “Send in the boy,” he told the guard.
Rasmine dropped to his knees before the ruler. “No, not my boy, please no—”
Justice tilted his head, looking amused by Rasmine’s begging. “Would you take your boy’s place on the wheel—”
“Yes!” Rasmine cried out, crawling forward. “Please, Ruler, anything!”
“The rack is a terrible way to go,” Justice mused, then looked at me. “Isn’t that right, Malice?”
