Page 88 of Revere
I manage to pull myself to sitting, but the chain is bound too high on the metal bedframe to find much relief. My shoulders ache as I try to adjust them. The best I manage is to prop myself up higher to relieve some of the pressure.
Sitting, I’m able to get a clear view of a murky liquid in the bucket beside the bed. I gag, barely holding back vomit as a lock unlatches across the room.
The door swings open, casting a bright glow from the well-lit hallway. My eyebrows pinch until it closes behind a man, and I’m once more face-to-face with the red-haired man from the hallway at the restaurant. His eyes are darker, filled with more malice than they were the first time I saw him. And it only occurs to me now that I’ve seen him before.
He was on campus with the blond man, walking out of Jacob’s office.
How could they possibly know each other?
The man slicks his hair back, offering me the full force of his angry blue eyes. They brighten with the slimy grin curling in the corners of his mouth. “She’s awake.”
On instinct, I curl my legs closer to my body, trying to get as far away from him as possible. Not that it will do me much good with how I’m bound.
“Who are you?” I try to maintain my composure.
Alex always warned me not to show fear to monsters. They crave it.
The man grins, pacing the room. “You can call me Anson.”
“I don’t plan on calling you anything.” I glare. “What do you want?”
“Feisty.” He pauses at the edge of the bed. “I can see why he took an interest in you. I suppose it helps that you also have no resemblance to your father.”
I don’t know whoheis, but at least one thing is clear—this does have to do with my dad.
“If I’m here so you can leverage me against my father, you’re too late. He’s missing, and I haven’t heard from him. And even if I had, he wouldn’t care if I was taken.”
As much as that hurts to admit, it’s the truth.
“Are you sure about that?” Anson tilts his head. “You are his prize after all. His perfect angel. His only daughter. What do you think he’ll do when he finds out we have you?”
“You assume he cares.”
“About you? No.” He chuckles. “Gideon only ever has one soft spot, and that is your mother. But his reputation is a close second. He might not care about your life, but what would he do to stop the family name from being sullied? Maybe we broadcast the defiling of his perfect angel and see how long it takes for him to snap.”
I clench my thighs, my stomach dropping.
It might be an empty threat, but something about the shimmer in his eyes says he enjoys the thought of it enough for me to need to be worried. Especially if he has a bone to pick with my father.
What wouldn’t my father’s enemies do to get to him?
“My brother will gut you when he finds out about this,” I warn.
“True.” The man shrugs like he doesn’t really care. “Alex’s bloodlust is only matched by the Interrogator himself.”
A chill runs down my spine thinking about the man who administered Alex’s trial. A man with no name. No face. Feared by all but known only by members of Sigma House. He technically saved my brother by getting him to a hospital whenhis initial trial went south, but he’s also the one who tied my brother to that chair.
Who electrocuted him.
If there’s anyone I hate more than Declan Pierce—than my parents—it’s the man the fraternity fears.
The Interrogator.
“Although, I suppose that can work in my favor as well,” Anson continues. “I wonder… what would they do to get you back?”
They?
“My father isn’t working with my brother anymore.”
