Page 54 of Taste of Thorns
“For fuck’s sake, Kratos. What the hell does it matter?” He addresses me. “What do you want to know?”
“What I want to know,” I say, “is did you crackpots come up with this genius plan yourselves or did someone else put you up to it?”
Kratos is still refusing to speak but his friend is more than happy to.
“There was no one else behind it.”
“So you came up with the idea to have your thrall kill our thrall all by yourselves?” Dray says.
The dude hesitates, then nods. Kratos glowers at him.
“Wasn’t that fucking stupid? You knew we’d find out it was you,” Dray says, sniffing violently.
“Yeah, but maybe we didn’t care,” Kratos growls, pushing at me.
Immediately, I have my shadows wrapping around his body like a hungry snake, squeezing the very life out of him. There’s a shocked intake of breath across the gymnasium and I hear Henny’s manic giggling. Kratos struggles against the confines and I have to confess his powers have grown, I can feel it. Still not as strong as mine though, so I squeeze him all the tighter, hearing his ribs crack one by one. He squeals like a pig and Dray chuckles.
His bond brothers look on without emotion.
“If you’re trying to start a war, Kratos,” I whisper, “you’re more stupid than I thought.”
Kratos is too busy groaning in agony to answer me.
“Why did you do it?” I ask the other one.
“Like Kratos said, we wanted to get back at you.”
“Because …”
The guy shrugs like what they did – nearly taking Briony from us – was nothing but a nuisance, not the most heinous of crimes.
Nathan is usually the most quiet of the Hardies with the least to say. It’s usually Kratos with the big mouth and the big bravado. I study Nathan’s face. Do I believe him? His answer puzzles me. He’s as good as admitted that they were the ones responsible for the attack that nearly killed our thrall. Is that because he has no doubt in his mind that we’d torture the truth out of him anyway?
Or is he lying, and if so, why? To protect the person whose idea it was? There can only be two reasons he’d do that. The person means a lot to the Hardies – unlikely, they’re a bunch of dickheads who care about little more than themselves.
Or they’re afraid of whoever put them up to it.
More afraid of them than us.
I let Kratos fall to the floor, my shadows slithering back into my hand.
I consider what to do next. Torture all three of them until we whittle the truth out of their mangled bodies. Or wait this out. If they are more afraid of the person pulling the strings than they are of us, it could all be a waste of time. As much as I hate these dudes, as much as I’d happily see all three of them ten feet under, Tudor was right. That would be enough provocation to start a civil war.
“You want my wolf to tear them apart, Beau?” Dray says eagerly, and Nathan gulps.
“Nah, not this time,” I say. “But we’ll be keeping a close eye on you boys. A very close eye.”
With Dray by my side, I turn and walk away.
Behind me the floorboard creaks and I know Kratos has staggered to his feet and is coming for us. I lift my hand and catch him in the grasp of my shadows.
“Don’t even fucking dare,” I growl.
The audience around the gymnasium watches in a mixture of horror and rapture as he struggles, hissing and spitting at me, attempting to release his magic and send it my way. His brother, Prentice, lifts his hands ready to attack, but Dray has seen the threat and has a weight flying across the space and hitting him on the head, knocking him to the ground and groaning in agony, before I’ve blinked an eye.
Nathan backs away with his hands up in surrender.
“Don’t be cute,” I tell the three of them. “You know we could obliterate the three of you with a flick of our magic.”
