Was he supposed to be alone?
Those words seemed to be enough for the man. Snapping his fingers, he gestured for another of his lackeys to wheel in a tray from across the room as he shed his coat and suit jacket, passing them off.
“I am Jetmir Besnik of the Besnik family, but I am sure you already know this.”
No, Niklaus had never heard of the man, or whatever family he was talking about, but he didn’t get the opportunity to tell him before the man was speaking again.
“You possess information that I need. If you tell me, I will release you and your lady friend here. If you do not, I will force you to tell me.” His gaze shifted to Sarah whose eyes widened in fear. “By any means necessary. Have you anything to say?”
Swallowing his fear, Niklaus’ eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know who you think I am, but if this is about money, I’ll give you everything I have. We—”
Jetmir sighed, shaking his head as though disappointed, but Niklaus was too confused to do anything more than protest, not even when Jetmir reached for a pair of knives sitting on the tray. Turning them over in his hands, he stepped forward, so close that Niklaus couldn’t help but breathe in the strong scent of his cologne.
“Please,” Jetmir dsid with the slightest of smiles. “I will enjoy this more if you make it difficult for me.”
Niklaus didn’t get the chance to think of a response before a scream of pain ripped free from his mouth as Jetmir stabbed the first knife into the left side of his chest, just beneath his collar bone.
He felt the blade ripping through skin and muscle, but no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t escape the agony and managed to add to it as the ties binding his wrists dug deeper into his flesh.
But before he could recover from the first, Jetmir plunged the second knife parallel to the first.
“Bleed for what you believe in,” he said in a low voice. “By the end of your time with me, you’ll die for it as well.”
Panting, Niklaus watched as Jetmir took his leave, along with a few others, but three remained.
The one that had taken Sarah.
The one he had fought with.
And the blond.
It was him, Niklaus knew, that he needed to remain wary of. Because it was to him that Jetmir had given a meaningful look before he disappeared out of the room.
Jetmir hadn’t been gone more than a couple of minutes before Niklaus was cut free and dragged from the chair before his wrists were rebound, and this time, he was hung from a hook in the ceiling.
Sarah was whimpering softly, but as his gaze was to the cold, damp wall in front of him, he could only hear what was happening around him. There was the rattle of the cart, the flicker of a flame igniting, and the men speaking in their native tongue behind him. That only made it worse, having to hear everything, but seeing nothing.
Someone walked behind him, hesitated a second, then Niklaus flinched away from the cold blade that was slipped beneath his shirt, cutting through the material with ease, the sides draping open though the shirt remained in place because of the knives in his chest. He tried to breathe through his panic, wishing once again that he knew something, anything that could get him and Sarah out of this place.
But the men at his back were eager to get started, drawing the blade across his skin in a painful line. Niklaus hissed, but didn’t cry out…not yet.
Blond hair snared his attention as the one that moved like a ghost leaned against the wall so that he had a clear view of his face. He was the one holding the knife that was now dripping with Niklaus’ blood.
“Tell them what they want to know,” he ordered quietly, like his words were only meant for him to hear.
Tell them? As though he had no part in this?
Niklaus looked from him, to the wall, and back again as he tried to think of an answer, one that was the correct one to a question he didn’t know.
It dawned on him that Jetmir hadn’t given him any information to actually provide an answer for. He was beginning to believe that this was not about answers at all.
That thought made his heart hammer harder, but his lack of an answer made the blond move out of sight again.
Not even seconds later, the sharp sting of his parting flesh had Niklaus trying to get free, and as the blond dug in deeper this time, he finally cried out.
“Do you have an answer?” the blond asked, this time loud enough for them all to hear.
His breaths ragged, Niklaus whispered a plea he knew would fall on deaf ears, his own just barely picking up the sound of Sarah’s distress.
But that was nothing compared to the noise he made as the blond rhythmically, and quite patiently, took his knife to Niklaus’ back and began to really work.
* * *
“Leave him be, Valon.”
Valon…Niklaus repeated that name over and over to himself as awareness crept back in. Now, finally, he had a name to put with the blond.