Page 133 of Plug and Drain

Arken wasn’t sorry for Oscar’s death. It was a small price for Susie’s safety. But he was sorry about how it had affected her. And what she must think of him now.

She hugged herself tighter, which made the swell of her breasts more obvious through the damp fabric of her shirt.

The sight immediately aroused him, and it could not have come at a more inappropriate time.

“Why was Henrikk angry?” she asked, forcing him to focus on the conversation at hand.

He cleared his throat and was careful to keep his gaze level with her face as he spoke. “His son, Prince Nathaniel, failed an important mission. The details are confidential, but suffice it to say, Henrikk was livid when he found out. He arrived here last night, to make his displeasure known.”

Susie drew a sharp breath, dropping her arms and crossing the room. “Did he hurt you?”

Less than four steps, and she was standing before him. She reached out to touch him, her fingers brushing his arm as if to check for injuries.

Arken tilted his head down, watching her fingertips slide along the creases of his shirt. They lingered on the arm garter he wore over his shirt where the fabric collected. His breathing halted.

She withdrew her hands, but remained close.

“No, Henrikk did not hurt me,” he murmured, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. “I spent the better part of the evening entertaining him. Well, trying to placate him. Giving him updates about the academy’s output of domesticated wolves, the next generation of budding vampire politicians, and so forth. When that failed, I knew it was time I offered something that would satisfy him.”

Susie’s eyes widened. “He wanted a show.”

“He wanted blood. Hence, Oscar’s sudden demise. It was two birds with one stone: Henrikk, and his damn pike.”

She nodded silently, thinking. Always thinking.

He gave a wry smile. “It was a nasty business, I think you’ll agree.”

Susie was silent for several more seconds before meeting his gaze. “How did Professor Atholomew die? You didn’t just impale him, did you?”

As if the act of impaling someone was a minor thing. But she was right—that had been the least of Atholomew’s problems once Arken discovered what he was up to.

“I made him suffer,” he replied. Susie looked unsurprised. “He suffered for many days at my hands before I impaled him. Although, that is the only part people always remember. But first, I tortured him.”

Despite the gravitas of the statement, the words came surprisingly easily, as if he’d been waiting years to finally speak them.

I tortured him. That is the kind of person I am.

He wanted her to see. And if his hopes of ever being with Susie were to die now, at least his last conversation with her would be an honest one.

She considered him for a moment. “I want to know your reasons.”

A low, bitter chuckle escaped him. “Will that excuse the brutality of the murder, do you think? It took him days to die, you know. Even when I finally dragged him out the front of the academy and impaled him, it took him several more days to die. He should have bled out faster, but I fed him vials of wolf blood to keep him alive. Did you know that?”

Susie swallowed and spoke quietly. “No. I did not know that.”

He turned his head away and shut his eyes. He had not meant to sound so angry.

“But,” Susie continued, making his gaze fly back to her, “as to whether it’s excusable… all depends on what the crime was. If you were just meting out punishment, then…”

Arken pondered, “Murder is excusable in the context of execution. But torture? Wasn’t it you who said you were worried for my soul?” He stared down at his hands. The blood stains from Oscar’s spinectomy—a term Henrikk had lovingly coined—had vanished long before he’d reached his suite to shower. The pike had absorbed it all. But it had not absolved him. No one, not even Susie, could do that.

He sighed. “Mercy never depends on the severity of the crime. Mercy…is a gift. A gift you give yourself, and to another.”

“Dale Etika,” Susie whispered. “Mercy is a universal virtue.”

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You read philosophy?”

“I read everything.”