Page 95 of Son of a Witch

For one bad decision, Vartros stripped me of my leadership. No good behavior process. No chance to redeem myself. Just gone. Everything good vanished from my life without a trace. Probably why I couldn’t relinquish control.

Selena repeated the question with more force.

“I don’t know.” James scraped a hand in his hair. “They went one way, and I went another. I’m not dumb enough to follow the crowd. Easiest way to be caught.”

I laughed and glanced over my shoulder at the two prisoners apprehended before him. “You were third to be caught, asshole.”

Selena let me have that one, her gaze glued to the prisoner.

James looked up at me his eyes smug and menacing. “How do you know I’m not a decoy?”

Arms folded, Selena paced up and down the length of the cell. “A decoy for what?”

James scratched his hands. So he wanted to play this game. Stupid asshole knew what would follow if he didn’t talk.

“You give us information and we can help you.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “A plea bargain to lower your sentence.”

James’ mocking laugh exploded irritation in my veins, hot, sludgy, and poisonous. “You don’t have that power.”

“How do you know what power we have?” Selena moved to a hair’s breadth from the sizzling bars on the cell. “We’ve been removed from all gantii missions to hunt and capture the fugitives.”

The prisoner’s jaw worked as he digested that. “I worked alone. Can’t tell you anything.”

Bullshit. I knew a liar when I saw one. The change in tenor. Tick of his jaw. Edgy set to his body. Flicker of his eyes to the floor.Liarburned into his forehead like a stamp from a burning cattle branding rod.

He wasn’t going to talk. Time to incentivize him. I slammed my fist on the button above the lock, activating the cell’s wall with current. Sparks electrified him with a painful shock, and he convulsed for five seconds.

Selena tensed beside me. Soft stomach. She preferred gentler means of extracting information. Appealing to the prisoner’s humanity. Making friends. Tactics like that took time to build trust. Time we didn’t have.

Breathing hard, James snarled flashing teeth, “Fuck, man, I told you I didn’t know anything.” Red eyes bored into mine.

Yeah, he did. Guilt oozed from every pore. Three years in the Guardians sharpened my knack for sensing a lie. Working closely with Raze, who smelled deception and conveyed it to me, honed those skills. Taught me the signs. Stress and tension in expressions and posture. Body ticks. Faster, sharper breathing and beating pulse. Any waver in the prisoner’s voice. James had every one of them.

It killed me to look to Selena for approval to proceed. Thankfully, she gave a quick affirmation.

“Look, James, you know how this goes.” I cracked my knuckles to drive in my point. “We torture you until you give us what we want.”

He rubbed his palms together and stared at the wall behind me. “I don’t know anything.”

Every nerve shrieked to go hard on him. Pump him with the maximum current. Scratches in my gut told me that wouldn’t work this time. Time to call on the information Vartros gave us and Tor combed through and put together. Motivation to get him to spill his guts. Doing so exposed my upper hand. Had to be done.

I began with, “Your family’s having money troubles, right? You worked for Tor to pay off debts.”

He shrugged. “Everyone’s got debts, brother. Mortgage, cars, bills, food.” He counted them on his fingers. “My wife’s raising two kids under three years old.”

“Not bills like yours.” That got his attention. “Kid with rare lymphoedema. Hospital bills up to your eyeballs. Round-the-clock care. Specialist treatments. Medicine. Machines. Not cheap.”

James twitched. I hit a sore spot. Pity pricked at my chest for a whole three seconds before evaporating when I remembered the extent he went to for his bills. Intimidating my girl and stealing a gift from Tor to sell and recoup lost income from the mermaid pearls he supplied to Tor and I confiscated. Beating up my brother to send a message to Tor to pay up.

Selena glanced at me, wondering how I knew that.

Sorry, love. No sources revealed here.

I drove deeper. “Your grandmother has dementia and her caretakers stole her fortune. The legal debts fighting them crippled you.”

The tick in his jaw said I hit a nerve, but James still didn’t crack. Fuck, man. Just give it up. If I couldn’t break him, I had to return to electrocution torture.

I kept up the pressure. “Your wife’s business went under and you owe the bank for inventory, wages, and insurance.”

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