Mordred used his air magic to knock the couch aside, sending it into a nearby wall with a loud crash as a second quickly followed. He followed the same defensive strategy with the second couch but couldn’t create enough power to stop Daria from charging into him, picking him off the floor, and driving him back through the open door into the kitchen.
Mordred reached out and grabbed the potato peeler as they barreled past, stabbing it into Daria’s ear. She released Mordred and screamed in pain as he surrounded his hands with air magic and clapped them across each ear, driving the potato peeler further into Daria’s skull. It wasn’t silver, so wouldn’t kill her, but Mordred knew it would hurt like hell. Blood flowed freely across the peeler, causing it to quickly become slick, with the unpleasant side effect of it being too slippery for Daria’s massive hands to take hold of and pull free.
“I asked nicely,” Mordred said. “Now this is me being less nice.” He wrapped air around the potato peeler and, twisting it slightly, caused Daria to scream and drop to her knees.
She immediately exploded up from her kneeling position, clawing across Mordred’s chest just as he raised a shield of magical air to protect him. She punched through the shield as if it were nothing, grabbed him by the throat, and smashed his head into the ceiling above before throwing him back through the door behind her.
Mordred used his air magic to land softly but couldn’t avoid Daria, who collided with him, raining down blows as he was forced to constantly restrengthen his air shield as she tested the limits of its ability to protect him.
She punched through the shield, grabbed hold of his wrist, and tore free the makeshift bandage he’d applied. She brought her other hand down onto Mordred’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. Daria took a long sniff of the blood that trickled down the still-open cut on his palm.
“You smell like food,” she said.
“Last chance to surrender,” Mordred said.
Daria laughed. “I thought we were already at being not very nice. I’m beginning to wonder why people were ever scared of you.”
Mordred placed a hand on top of hers, as if trying to pry her fingers from his wrist. She laughed until he clamped his bleeding hand on her wrist and activated his blood magic.
The screams that left Daria’s throat were deafening as tendrils of blood magic wrapped around her arm. They snaked up to her neck and around her throat, tightening and silencing her. Helpless, she clawed at the agony-causing magic with her free hand.
“I don’t use my blood magic very much,” Mordred said. He got back to his feet and brushed himself off. “It’s far too addictive, for one. But I did offer nicely, and it turns out you’re strong enough to ignore my magic. If I started throwing really powerful elemental magic around, I’d probably bring this whole building down on us, so I’d rather not do that.”
Daria thrashed on the ground, clawing the wooden floor to pieces around her.
“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be the person who causes agony. And I don’t want you to think that I’m taking any enjoyment out of it. Because this is simply a necessity. It has nothing to do with your species, or sex, or anything else about you. But you’re not going to come quietly, so I’m going to have to make you.”
Mordred loosed the noose around her throat, and Daria screamed something incomprehensible.
Mordred removed the blood magic, and Daria began to pant from relief.
“I’d rather not do that too much,” Mordred said.
“Fuck you,” Daria said. “Fuck you, your friends, your family, and everyone you ever cared about. When you’re dead, I’m going to find everyone you love, and I’m going to tear their faces off. I’m going to feast on their soft meat.”
Mordred sighed. “That the best you’ve got?”
“Use your blood magic again. Let yourself go.”
“I’m not going to do that. But I don’t need to use my blood magic to get you to talk. I just have to give you to her.” He pointed at Morgan, who stood in the doorway. “You took your time.”
“Werewolves take a lot to kill,” she said. “I assume this one doesn’t want to talk.”
“I’ve tried very hard not to kill her. I’ve tried very hard to be the better man, but I’m exceptionally close to doing very horrible things to gain the information we need.”
“Things you’d prefer I did?”
Mordred shook his head. “We’re meant to be better than torture. We’re meant to be above it. It doesn’t work to get information. Never has.”
“So, what is she going to do?” Daria asked.
Morgan threw a sorcerer’s band to Mordred, and he clamped it around Daria’s wrist before she could stop him. Daria instantly changed back into human, cursing with every second.
“She’s going to do whatever she needs to do. She’s going to kill you, Daria. She’s going to take her time doing it, and she’s going to enjoy it. Morgan was never someone who helped me kill, but she’s become quite adept over the years in keeping people alive as a punishment for their actions. You’re going to scream a lot in the coming hours.” Mordred picked up a silver blade and passed it to Morgan. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
Morgan smiled and shrugged off her jacket, placing it on the chair beside her. “Take your time. I know I will.”
Mordred left the room and sat in the hallway. He removed his mobile phone from his pocket and set the timer for five minutes. After three and a half, Morgan left the room, and behind her Daria lay on the floor, abject fear etched on her face. Mordred had heard no screams, had heard no sounds of violence.
“You okay?” he asked Morgan.
“No,” she said. “I do not appreciate being the one to do that. I am not someone who enjoys tearing someone’s mind apart. Polina gave me the sorcerer’s band because she figured that Daria might talk if she could no longer use her werewolf abilities. She was only partially correct.”
“How broken is her mind?”
“It’s not. She was physically strong, but making her compliant was easier than many I’ve had to break in the past.”
Mordred nodded. He knew that Morgan hated delving into the minds of others to force them to cooperate. It was something that could only be done on someone who had no abilities to wield, and she couldn’t drag the information from them. Instead, Morgan could twist enough parts of a person’s mind to make them compliant.
Mordred stood and placed a hand on Morgan’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “Thank you for this.”
“For Elaine, right?” Morgan looked away. “I’m going to go drink something strong. I’ll tell the others where you are.”
Mordred entered the room and picked up a chair and blanket, tossing the latter to a naked Daria and placing the chair close to her.
“I’m sorry,” Mordred said. “I know how it feels to have your mind torn apart. I wanted this to be done differently.”