“I can make it feel even better if you just say yes orno.”
“Yes or no.” Belishaw snickered like a schoolboy now, and the voice inside his head didtoo.
Sinclair’s black eyes turned reddish-gold with anger. He grabbed a scalpel from the table and slashed Belishaw’s cheek. Pain tore through him, far sharper than heexpected.
“Humans feel physical pain much stronger than we do.” Sinclair’s voice was smooth again as he set the scalpeldown.
Belishaw gave the other man his full attention, despite the throbbing pain and the hot blood trickling down hischeek.
“Now, let’s try this again. You know who stole the hoard ofjewels?”
Belishaw didn’t speak, but his body betrayed him with a tinynod.
“Good. Now give me aname.”
His lips parted, but his tongue was frozen against the roof of hismouth.
“The fact is, I already know who stole the jewels, Randolph. I just need you to confirm it for me. Since I already know the answer, you aren’t betraying anyone by confirmingit.”
Another nod and a wave of nausea passed throughhim.
“Give me the name,Randolph.”
Belishaw struggled to stay silent, but it was like trying to catch grains of sand. Sinclair sighed and lifted the scalpel. This time he didn’t move out of anger. He flicked his wrist and sliced Belishaw’s other cheek. A cry escaped his lips, but he did not let the nameout.
Sinclair set his weapon down. “I wonder if I need to bring additional motivation for you? Perhaps the human woman you’ve been seeing. Jodie Harkness? Would she loosen your tongue if I had her to playwith?”
An icy wave of dread drowned him. “No,” he begged, tears flooding his eyes. He couldn’t control his emotions. Not with this drug in his system. But now he was mortal, and they were simply a sign ofweakness.
“If you don’t want her involved, then you need to tell me aname.”
Forgive me, Mikhail. He sent his silent plea to the gods that his friend wouldunderstand.
“Mikhail. MikhailBarinov.”
“There, was that so hard?” Sinclair mused. “So it was him after all. Again our paths cross. How interesting to have him prowling around my city like this, after so manyyears.”
“London doesn’t belong toyou.”
“Englandbelongs to me, or it will soon.” He leaned back in his chair, more relaxed, no doubt because he had the name he wanted. “So where has Barinov run off to with myjewels?”
Belishaw growled, though the sound wasn’t as deadly as it oncewas.
“The jewels are his. My family gave them to the Barinovs five hundred years ago as part of atreaty.”
“And they are mine now, because I wish it. Who currently holds them is immaterial. I need those gems for my own little treaty. Now tell me what rock Barinov is hiding under, or I’ll go see if Jodie wishes to join us in this littlechat.”
The thought made Belishaw sick. There was no stopping Sinclair if he chose to bring Jodie here. He couldn’t protect both her and Mikhail. He would have to choose. Unfortunately, there was no real choice to be made. Mikhail at least had a chance to defendhimself.
“He lives on the coast in Cornwall, at the old Barrow house.” He gave Sinclair theaddress.
“Thank you for cooperating, Randolph.” Sinclair stood and disappeared behind the wall of darkness that the circle of light did not penetrate before he returned with a new syringe in hishand.
“But I told you—” Belishaw cursed as the needle plunged into hisneck.
Sinclair patted his cheek. “Can’t have you running off to warn your friend, now canI?”
Belishaw blinked once, twice, and all wentdark.
