I steel myself and his fist comes toward me, slow compared to that of a vampire, giving me time to avert my head slightly. He aimed for my eye initially, but instead, pain blooms across my cheekbone. The pain is dull compared to the training blows I’vetaken from countless vampires. We never held back, knowing we’d heal quickly.
A laugh rasps out of me as I spit the small amount of blood from my fang scraping my inner cheek to the floor. I can only hope I manage to get a few drops on his shoes.
“Is that it? I’ve taken harder hits from young vamps just learning how to swing. You punch like a baby.”
His jaw ticks once. The smile stays, but it’s tight now and stretched thin.
If I’m going to endure this, I’m going to get some semblance of satisfaction through it, no matter how small. The glint in his eyes tells me it wouldn’t help if I was quiet instead. The same pain is coming for me no matter what.
“You think that makes you brave?” His tone drops, low and meant to be intimidating, I’m sure. “It makes you stupid, welcoming further pain.”
I do my best to shrug with the restraints holding my wrist in place. “Or maybe it’s just a truth you’re too fragile to hear. Your fists will never hit hard enough to matter.”
For a moment his eyes darken and I feel the tension in the air twist tighter. Then he exhales, slow and measured before turning toward the gleaming tray of tools. His fingers trail the handles like a man savoring his collection.
“Be that as it may,” he murmurs, more to himself than to me. “Best not to waste time. This isn’t the only thing on my schedule for the day.”
I don’t miss a beat.
“Ah, yes, the supervillains and their busy schedules.” My tone turns mocking, knowing the condescension in it is the only thing that riles him. “Don’t forget to change your shirt before you go to church to cleanse yourself of your sins. You already have a blood smear on your cuff.”
He doesn’t look at me when he mutters, “You are lucky your blood makes you of any value to me.”
“Yes, I’m just so lucky to be in your presence…” I trail off before pursing my lips, looking like I’m deep in thought. “I’m sorry, what’s your name? No one has said it, so it must not be of much importance.”
His hand closes around the hilt of a blade swiftly, and the blunt end of it is driven into the corner of my mouth. My head snaps sideways, my teeth vibrating and aching from the direct hit to them. An odd choice.
Does he think he can break my fangs, or something?
“That’s it, once again?” I spit fresh blood across the floor. “My mother would call that a love tap.”
I see the moment my barbs send him off the edge.
A snarl tears up his throat, but he reins it in, tossing the knife onto the tray. It clatters heavily against the metal and other weapons.
“Words are easy when you’ve got teeth left to spit them through. Can you grow those back like your hair? I was rather enjoying the bald look.”
The reminder of everything he’s taken from me lands sharply, but even so, I twist his words as my gut churns. “I’m lucky to be able to pull off any look, with my beauty.”
I will not let this man see me shrink away from his words or weapons.
He plucks a scalpel and wordlessly drags it to slice through my shirt and across my collarbone. Immediately I feel the warmth of my blood soaking into the fabric around it. He presses harder as I refuse to show any pain. The sting grows sharper as he ends at the other side of my collarbone.
I refuse to meet his eyes as he leans in to whisper, “You’ll tell me what makes you different. In fact, by the time I’m done, you’llbegto tell me who your family is.”
I gather the blood in my mouth before spitting it directly at him. Red drops spatters across his cheek and jaw, with a few paint flecks along his lips. He scrambles back, quickly using his sleeve to wipe the blood near his mouth away.
My eyes meet his once more as I let the full weight of my love for my family fill me. “You knownothingabout family if you think anything you do will make me give mine up.”
A feral growl rips from him as he grabs at pliers and falls to his knees.
Apparently loving my family is a sore spot for him.
I feel the pliers line up with my finger nail and I clench my jaw, knowing this is going to fucking hurt. He rips the first one free of my nailbed and I clench my hands shut instinctively, yanking against the metal restraints, as I force myself not to scream.
“You can hide those from me, not to worry,” he whispers before I feel the pliers line up with one of my toenails. No amount of curling them can stop him from accessing those. “Just give me a name.”
A defiant whisper falls from my lips. “You’ll never know the depth of love my family holds for each other. Not with all the money in the world. So do your worst.”
