Darling tried to spit at him, but all it did was come out as a low burst of breath.
Pip glanced over his shoulder at another rebel. “Grab a quarter muzzle for our guest. Last thing we want is to hear his royal complaints when the stun blast wears off.”
Darling’s stomach shrank at his words. A quarter muzzle was an old Caronese torture device that had once been used for traitors. It had a spiked ball that was put beneath the tongue, then two thin barbed straps that were shoved down the throat. Anytime the wearer swallowed or tried to speak, the spikes sliced into their throat and the underside of their tongue.
Though brutal, it was probably some kind of karmic justice since it’d been invented by one of Darling’s ancestors and coldly used to punish his enemies. It, along with many other such vicious acts, was why his family had been given the Cruel surname by their people centuries ago.
So this is how I die.
Not peacefully in old aged sleep like he’d hoped. Or under his uncle’s fist or a lucky shot taken at him by his enemies as he’d expected.
No. He would die betrayed and tortured by the very people he’d risked his own life to help.
And when they shoved the muzzle into his mouth and tightened its thin strap around his head until he tasted nothing but his own blood, a new fire burned through him.
I won’t let you kill me. I will survive this.
Somehow. Someway. And when he did…
He was going to kill every one of them.
Slowly. Painfully.
And with relish.
“Why are you so pissed?”
Stunned by the sheer stupidity of that question, Zarya stared at her second in command. Was he out of his mind? How could he not understand her anger? “We are not kidnappers. My God, Clarion, that’s a member of the royal family you just dragged in here. Have you any idea what the League would do to us if they found out?”
He scoffed derisively. “They don’t care, and you know it. Relax. We’re just holding him long enough to get the ransom, then we’ll release him.”
“He’s seen our faces.”
“So? We’re all off grid. Even when they know who we are, they can’t find us now. They won’t find us later. Besides, he’s an aristo. He can’t brush his own teeth without his valet doing it for him, never mind swear vengeance and hunt us down. All he’ll do is send others after us and they won’t do shit but milk his trust fund until it’s gone or they get bored. It’s not like the Sentella or the Tavali are going to take his contract against us. They don’t work for the aristos unless it’s against the League, and you know it.”
Still, Zarya had a bad feeling about this. She didn’t like cruelty against anyone, and the last thing she wanted was to incur the wrath of any aristo.
Look on the bright side, at least they didn’t kidnap Drakari Cruel. Rumor had it he was even more brutal than his uncle. And he was battle trained by some of the best instructors in the elevated circles.
Darling…
By all accounts she’d ever read, seen, or heard, he was weak, passive, and extremely effeminate. No backbone whatsoever. It was said that even his own bodyguards ignored his orders and snatched him around like a helpless child. Most of the aristocracy hated him. Unless his uncle commanded it for state functions, his own mother refused to be in his presence or even say his name.
So in that case, Clarion was right. Darling would never come after them. Once he was home, he’d go back to his cozy world and forget about this.
Wishing she could really believe that, she chewed her bottom lip as fear poured through her.
Surely, Clarion had thought this matter through. The Grand Counsel would quickly pay the ransom to get his heir back, and all of this would be behind them in a few days.
“You better be right, Clarion. If you’re not, I’m going to shoot you myself.”
He tsked at her. “Of course, I am. Now if you’re through reaming me, I have a ransom demand to make.”
“Go.” Before she yielded to her desire to gut him where he stood.
Still, Zarya saw red. How could Clarion have been so foolish? How could he think she’d condone this? No wonder he’d refused to elaborate on his grand scheme for bringing the counselor to his knees.
But the deed was done now. There was no way to undo it. The penalty wouldn’t be any less steep if they released the prince now as opposed to after they had the ransom. A ransom they could use to buy supplies to protect and feed Arturo’s innocent victims.
Sick to her stomach with fear and trepidation, she reached for her link, wanting to talk to Kere and ask him what she should do. If anyone could advise her on this matter, it would be he.
She pressed his number.