Page 75 of Hateful Prince
Oz stepped forward, a strange sort of excitement in his eyes. “I haven’t done this in a long time. He’s right. I might do just that.”
“Try not to. We need answers, not another body,” Cain said.
“Bodies are not a problem,” Kai answered, his eyes flashing with a hint of his dragon.
Swiftie gulped audibly.
“Do it,” Tor ordered, staring at Oz.
One touch of his palm to Swiftie’s bare skin had Oz’s eyes rolling into the back of his head. An almost euphoric look crossed the mind reader’s face. Swiftie grunted and twitched, his skin breaking out into a sweat.
Almost instantly, the expression on Oz’s face changed, and he dropped his hold.
“You little shit. Your name’s not even Taylor. It’s fucking Brian.”
“What?” Kai asked.
Oz shot him a look. “He’s Brian Swift. His claim to fame is that he can vaguely control water particles.”
“But he could still be the Ripper,” Tor observed, his expression murderous.
The indignation Oz was throwing off was now replaced with apology. “I’m not going to be able to help you with that. Despite his complete lack of meaningful talent, he does have an extraordinary ability to shield his mind. I can’t get past the surface-level bullshit. Not without liquefying his brain until it leaks from his nose.”
“Is that really what happens?” Dahlia asked, horror in her voice.
“Yeah. It’s not pretty.”
Kai cracked his knuckles and rolled his big shoulders. “Then I guess it’s time for Plan Beast after all. Oz, you can go. Dahlia, you too. It’s best you’re not here to see this next part.”
Oz scampered out of the tower like his arse was on fire, but Dahlia held her ground.
“I’m not leaving,” Dahlia protested. “I need answers as much as the rest of you. Maybe even more so.”
“Oh, you’re leaving, baby doll. Seeing your mate tear into someone without remorse will haunt you the rest of your days.”
She tossed him a scathing look. “Why would that haunt me? I might be named after a flower, but I’m not delicate. I’ve seen Tor decimate creatures right in front of me, and it didn’t change a damn thing.”
“I was defending you, Kærasta. This is different. What we’re about to do to him is criminal.” Tor closed the distance between my darling and himself. “I don’t want you to see me torture him. This is a far cry from fighting to the death.”
“But—”
“No, Dahlia. My soul will bear these sins so that yours never has to. That’s the trade-off. It’s what I was born for. Leave me so I can do it without fear of judgment or disgust. You need to see me as a protector, but right now, I need to be the beast.”
Poor Brian was so out of it he didn’t even register the threats of imminent torture.
“Fine. But even if he is the Ripper, please don’t kill him unless you have to. Other people need justice. His death is not ours to claim.”
“Speak for yourself,” Cain muttered, but there was a little twitch around his mouth that told me he was joking. Kind of.
Dahlia took Cain’s hand and cast us each a meaningful look before leaving the room.
“Anyone have a shower curtain or plastic tarp?” I asked, poking around the space. “We’ll need something to catch all the blood. No use having it drip through the floorboards or stain anything.”
“B-blood?” Brian spluttered.
I smirked as Tor manifested a big blue tarp beneath the chair.
Stepping forward, I pulled my trusty dagger from my boot and twirled it a few times. “Oh yes. Buckle up, Swiftie. Unless you start singing for us, it’s going to be a long night.”