“It would trouble you to hurt a female, Popeye, and you know it,” said Jaime. “It would trouble all of you. But it won’t bother me or my girls here. Besides, you get to have your fun all the time. Don’t be so selfish.”
Marcus shrugged at the other males and went to lean against the wall a little behind Roni, needing to be close to her. Jaime was right: it would trouble them to interrogate a female, might even make them go easy on her. She didn’t deserve “easy.” As long as he had Roni in his sights, he could deal with staying in the background. The guys must have reached the same conclusion, because they joined him.
Pleased, Taryn smiled. “Good. Watch and learn, boys.”
Roni cocked her head at the jackal. There was still no fear in her eyes or her scent, but there was wariness. “You can sense my wolf, can’t you? You can sense how much she wants to rip out your throat.”
“Am I supposed to shiver in fear?” The blonde snorted, tossing her long, silky mane over her shoulder.
Taryn smiled. “Yes, you should. You know who I am, don’t you?”
“I know it’s pointless that you wear a bra. I mean, if you didn’t have ears, you wouldn’t wear earrings, would you?”
“Your pack tried to take my son. Why?”
“I won’t tell you shit.”
“No?” Jaime sighed. “That’s too bad, ’cause we have a lot of questions.”
“What’s ‘too bad’ is that you have curves like a racetrack.”
Roni frowned at her fellow interrogators. “She seems to think her opinion matters to us. Weird, huh?”
“You’re calling me weird? That’s rich. I mean, look at you. You don’t wear even a scrap of makeup. You dress like a boy. And haven’t you heard of a hair straightener?”
Shaya looked at the jackal curiously. “You’re right, Roni. She thinks we care.”
The jackal sneered at Shaya. “Oh, we have a ginger in the house.”
“How many times must people be told it’s red?”
“And why are you so pale? Tanning lotion is your friend.”
“I think she’s entertained us long enough,” declared Taryn. “Let’s get started. We want to know more about snm.com. Did your pack create it?”
The jackal looked surprised, which meant that Quinn clearly hadn’t admitted to her pack that he’d mentioned the website to Marcus and Roni. “You don’t like it?” she asked with a smirk.
“It’s sick, and you know it.”
“It’s just shifters acting according to their true animal nature.”
“But even animals don’t do what those bastards did.”
“Except dolphins,” interjected Roni. “They’re a race of violent predators who kill their own babies for fun and who have a predilection to gang rape.”
“Dolphins, really?” Shaya pouted. “But they seem so sweet. Guess you never can tell.”
“What had you planned to do with my son?” demanded Taryn.
“Let’s just say he wouldn’t have survived it.” The blonde shrugged. “But I’m glad we didn’t get him. Kids annoy the hell out of me—crying over and over for their mommy and daddy, begging to go home, when no one’s coming to save them.”
Oh, the twisted bitch.
It was no surprise when Taryn slapped her hard across the face. “Where’s your pack?” But the jackal didn’t answer. In fact, she was smiling. “Where. Is. Your. Pack?”
“Do you really think I’d ever tell you that?”
“One can but hope.”
The odds of the jackal answering that question were nonexistent. For a shifter to give up their pack to another was the ultimate betrayal, totally taboo. It would stain their family’s name, possibly lead to the entire family being ostracized from the pack simply because of what that one shifter did. By keeping that information to herself, the jackal was protecting her pack and her family.
“I’m not answering any of your questions. There’s nothing in it for me—you’ll kill me anyway.”
Jaime tilted her head, conceding that. “But we can do it swiftly and cleanly if you cooperate. If you don’t . . . well, that would be a bad decision.”
“I’ve known pain. There’s nothing you can do to me that hasn’t already been done.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” growled Taryn, taking a step forward.
Roni touched Taryn’s arm to stay her, taking a moment to study their prisoner closely. The jackal had four females in front of her who would happily put her through a world of pain before finally killing her. She should have been terrified, sweating nervously. But no. She just looked resigned. This was someone who’d known a lot of violence, who’d gotten used to it and knew how to shut out the pain. She wasn’t scared, wasn’t on the verge of talking. And that presented them with a problem.
A tap, tap, tapping sound made Roni glance down. The jackal was moving her foot impatiently, making those clearly expensive stilettos tap on the floor. They were most likely just as expensive as the indecently short skirt and the strapless top, though probably not as expensive as the jewelry decorating her body. With her perfect hair, perfect makeup, and perfect appearance, she made Roni think of Eliza, Janice, Zara, and all of Marcus’s other exes: shallow, superficial people obsessed with their looks.
And that gave Roni an idea.
“Just give me a sec,” she told the girls. Then she walked to the wall on their right where a selection of tools was hanging. Grabbing the shears, she made her way over to the jackal.
The bitch curled her upper lip. “Pain doesn’t scare me.”
“Oh, I believe you,” said Roni, selecting a few strands of that peroxide blonde hair and holding them out straight. Fear of pain definitely wasn’t the jackal’s weak spot. But something else was.
The jackal tensed. “What are you doing?”
Snip. “I figured I’d put some layers in your hair.” Roni let the strands fall to the floor, and the jackal screeched. So Roni did it again. And again. And again.
“Stop it, you bitch!”