Rumor had it that Zane had extensively studied the interrogation techniques used by the Nazis during World War II and adopted some of their methods. Therefore, when he pulled out a simple pair of pliers from his long coat, Gabriel showed no surprise and only winced inwardly. He abhorred violence, but knew in this case it was necessary.
Paul’s eyes flickered briefly when he caught sight of the instrument, but a second later he had himself back under control. For a human he appeared extraordinarily fearless. Gabriel had yet to figure out what gave him this mental strength.
“Did I mention that I really don’t care if you survive this or not?” Zane’s voice was calm and expressionless.
A snort was the answer. Was the man mocking his tormentor?
Gabriel forced himself to watch his second in command as Zane gripped the suspect’s wrist and applied the pliers to his thumb.
The instrument tightened over the tip of the man’s digit. “Who’s behind this?”
No answer, but a huffed breath. Paul’s disobedience was greeted with an evil grin by Zane and an instant tightening over the suspect’s thumb. The sound of bones cracking and muscle being pulped into a bloody mess was drowned out by Paul’s scream.
“Who’s turning our guards into killers?” Zane’s voice was as calm as if he was asking the time.
The suspect’s mouth pressed together into a thin line, indicating his unwillingness to divulge any information. Gabriel sensed a short flicker of a memory appear in the man’s mind. But it was too brief for him to hone in on it. He nodded to Zane to continue. Even if Paul was unprepared to talk, he could be weakened enough to release information via his memories.
Gabriel was unclear how, as a human, Paul was able to shield his memories from him. Whoever his master was—and he knew there had to be a master—had to be either a vampire, a witch, or a demon. No other creatures had powers sufficient to block out his gift of unlocking memories.
Zane clamped the pliers onto Paul’s index finger, this time pulling on the fingernail and ripping it clean off. Blood splattered as the suspect let out another scream. Paul’s eyes watered, the pain evident on his face.
“I can do this all day.” Zane was right. They had time. It was already daytime, and there wasn’t much else they could do anyway. Whether it took them five minutes or five hours to get him to talk didn’t matter much.
Defiantly, Paul looked up at Zane and spat. “I won’t tell you anything.” His voice was labored. The man was in undeniable agony, yet he showed tremendous strength.
Under other circumstances Gabriel would have admired him. After all, Paul was a Scanguards bodyguard, and they were known for their stamina, determination, and grit. They’d been trained to withstand torture. And this one had been trained well. Too well.
“You will. They all do when I’m through with them.” Zane was clearly enjoying himself too much at the man’s expense.
Thirty seconds later another bloody fingernail landed on the concrete floor. The room positively reeked of blood now. Zane’s fangs had lengthened, and Gabriel noticed the bulge under his associate’s jeans. He’d always assumed Zane got turned on by violence, but now he knew for certain. Gabriel shot him a warning look, which Zane ignored.
Another scream echoed in the small room as Zane crushed Paul’s ring finger with the pliers.
“Who are you working for?”
Paul slumped forward, breathing heavily. He mumbled something incoherent.
“What?” Zane pushed Paul’s shoulders back and jerked his face up to look at him.
“Luther.”
Gabriel’s heart sank. It was true then. Up until now he’d still hoped their suspicions were unfounded.
Zane continued his questioning. “Who’s Luther?” He set the pliers again, but Gabriel pried them from his hands before he could clamp down.
“That’s enough.”
Zane’s furious glare hit him. “We’re not done.”
“I know Luther.” Unfortunately, yes, he knew him, their former friend and partner. The man who’d turned against them after his blood-bonded wife had died.
Gabriel turned to Paul. “He was seen in town last night. What does he want?”
Paul shrugged his shoulders, seemingly unwilling to give away anything else. The back of Gabriel’s hand hit him straight across the cheek. Blood instantly seeped from Paul’s mouth.
“He wants to destroy Scanguards.”
Gabriel nodded. He had guessed as much. “What’s he paying you?”
Paul’s surprised gaze struck him. “Paying? This isn’t about money.”