Amun nodded to support his claim.
After a long pause, three of the men nodded in return, though they merely gave a stiff bow of their heads. Axel blew Haidee a kiss.
Wonderful. “Now, then. Let’s do what we came to do.” Zacharel reached out and removed the fabric from Burden’s mouth.
“You look just like him, you know,” the demon said without preamble, smug, so smug. “I wonder…would you scream just like him?”
Do not take the bait. “Who?” he found himself asking, despite the fact that he knew the answer. Surely the demon would not dare to go there.
“Who else?”
His brother. Burden had dared, suggesting he had been there when Hadrenial was tortured. You knew better than to engage a demon in such a way. And now, all he could think about was the fact that it was possible. Hadrenial had never voiced the names of his tormentors.
Fury fanned to new life in his chest. How easy it would be to sink a blade into that vulnerable human throat. The body would die, Burden would be freed, captured and returned to hell—or killed. Maybe that’s what Burden wanted, though. To prick at Zacharel until he reacted violently, allowing the demon to take his secrets with him.
He looked to Amun. His ability to uncover the truth was one of the reasons Zacharel had specifically requested the warrior’s presence here. Oh, Zacharel could taste a lie, but this way, he wouldn’t have to bother with an interrogation, wouldn’t have to risk upsetting the Deity. Amun could simply dig inside the demon’s mind and find his secrets.
His thoughts are a jumbled mess, Amun signed. A mix of the human’s and his own.
“I need to know where he’s keeping Jamila, a soldier of mine. I also need to know who he’s working for,” Zacharel said. “Someone told him to hunt and torture Annabelle, and I want to know who that someone is.”
He’s been thinking about the angel, Jamila, quite a bit. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, angel, but she’s already dead.
Though he tasted the truth, Zacharel fought it. Ten minutes ago, he showed us video feed of her. Alive.
The feed was recorded earlier. Amun patted him on the shoulder. I’m truly sorry, but they’ve already killed her. Her injuries were just too severe to recover from.
For a moment, his heart felt like a hammer against his ribs rather than the organ responsible for his life. He tried to comfort himself with knowledge that Jamila’s suffering was over, but that didn’t help. She was dead, gone, because he had failed to protect her.
The shame and guilt he felt…they were worse than having bullets in his chest, skin, muscle and bone ravaged. The Deity would penalize him, of course, and he would accept without protest. Whatever was meted out, he deserved.
I will probe his mind about the other, his leader, Amun signed, but it might take me some time.
Time was the only thing Zacharel didn’t have. Frustration joined the collage of emotions clawing at him. “Do whatever it takes—anything short of death. And when you find out, have Lucien track me down.”
“Meanwhile,” Haidee said, stepping forward. Beads of ice welled from her pores, turning her into a living sculpture. “I’ll be helping my man out, don’t you worry.”
“Wh-what is she?” Burden stuttered with sudden horror.
“She’s exactly what you deserve,” Zacharel gritted out. Haidee could freeze a demon to its core, and for beings who lived among the flames of hell, that was not a pleasant sensation. Burden’s screams would echo for days to come.
Or not.
When he opened his mouth to release his first, Haidee traced her fingertip across the edges of his lips. The ice spread from one ear to the other, silencing him. Any other time, Zacharel would have stayed to watch. This time, he dismissed his men and said to Amun, “If ever you or your brothers wish to be free of your demons, come and see me. I’ve learned how I can help.”
With that, he strode away to collect his woman.
There was one more place they could go for answers.