“You’re weak,” she says instead. “Both of you. Especially you, little hybrid. Too scared to embrace what you truly are.”
Her words hit that feeling I’ve been trying to push down since drinking from the first dark angel I encountered at the ravine.
The feeling I think might befear.Of myself.
“I don’t know what I am,” I say, and this time when I gather water and send it toward her face, I don’t just splash her. I hold it in a globe around her head, drowning her in it, watching as her chest stops moving as she tries to not breathe in.
According to Riven, breathing underwater is a tough skill for even the strongest water wielders to master. I imagine it’s close to impossible for one who’s already weakened.
She flails her head around, but it’s no use. The sphere is so large that she can’t escape.
“Enough,” Riven says, and I release my hold on my magic, letting the water splash to the floor.
The dark angel opens and closes her mouth like a dying fish.
“Where’s Zoey?” Riven demands again.
“Even if I told you,” she says through gritted teeth, “you’d never make it there alive.”
Riven doesn’t flinch. “We’ll take that chance,” he says simply, and the ice shards along her arms press deeper, as if they’re trying to squeeze the answers out of her until she pops.
She doesn’t give in. Even after continuing like this for hours, she remains as evasive as she was from the start. And, to make itworse for her, she eventually heals from every injury we inflict, which allows us to keep starting the torture from the beginning.
“Wait,” she finally says, her eyes glazed with exhaustion. “Perhaps we can negotiate.”
I release my hold on my magic, relief flooding my bones. Because as much as I’ve been trying to hide it, hurting this woman is causing me another type of pain. The pain of knowing I’ll never be able to wipe what we’re doing to her from my mind, for as long as I live.
Sure, she’s a monster, but her cries have been disturbinglyhuman.
Riven’s startlingly unaffected, but I don’t know how much longer it’ll be until I break from the brutality of it all.
“We’re listening,” he says coolly, not sparing a glance back at me.
The dark angel’s chest heaves as she catches her breath. “I’ll answer your questions,” she says. “But I want assurances.”
“You’re not exactly in a position to make demands,” I point out.
She laughs weakly. “Then get it over with and kill me. But good luck finding your friend without my help.”
Ghost growls low in his throat, but he stays pressed against my leg.
I rest my hand on his head in a subtle gesture of thanks. Because I don’t think I could have stomached all of this if not for him.
Riven remains focused on the dark angel, sizing her up, as if he’s trying to decide if her offer to negotiate is a decoy or not. “What do you want?” he finally asks.
“My life, obviously.” She shifts against her ice prison. “And I want limits. A time frame for questioning. After that, you let me go.”
“And then what?” I ask, since while I’m no expert in deals, there seems to be a lot of holes in this one. “You’ll try to kill us again?”
“We’ll give her the rest of the relaxation potion.” Riven’s cold eyes meet mine, challenging me. “And you’ll drink from her again. Make her as weak as possible before we leave.”
I still at the calm way he says it.
Drink from her again.
As if what he saw me do didn’t disgust him so much that he shut me out entirely.
But I force myself to nod, since his proposal is a practical one. Plus, there’s no denying that her blood will give me extra strength as we continue our journey.
