Capture the Crown (Gargoyle Queen #1) -Jennifer Estep Page 0,140

hope ignited in my chest. Perhaps I could use this oversight to my advantage—if I stayed alive long enough.

The third guard undid the chains from around my feet. Then the other two guards dragged me over to an empty table, picked me up, and laid me down flat on it. To my surprise, the stone actually had a cooling effect on my back, and tears of relief leaked out of my eyes as some of my pain eased.

The guards spread my arms and legs out into that five-pointed-star position again, then chained my limbs down to the table. They stepped back, and Milo loomed over me. I yanked on the chains, which had a bit more give than the other ones, but I couldn’t do much more than wriggle helplessly, like a worm caught in a strix’s beak.

Milo drew something from his pocket, then held it out over the table where I could see it. A tearstone arrow glinted a dull gray in his fingers. “You have such a keen interest in my arrows that I thought I would show you what they can truly do. Would you like that, Gemma?”

He smiled at the growing horror on my face. “Oh, yes. I thought you would.”

Milo leaned forward and drove the arrow all the way through my right hand.

Flesh ripped. Muscles tore. Bones broke. Pain exploded in my hand just like it had in my back. Only this time, I had enough breath to scream. And scream. And scream . . .

“What do you think, Gemma?” Milo said, when my cries finally died down. “Will my arrows help me destroy my enemies?”

I didn’t have the breath to answer him. More tears streamed out of my eyes, and my hand throbbed and pulsed with every frantic beat of my heart.

Milo grinned, moved around the table, and held another arrow out where I could see it. Then the bastard grinned and drove that one through my left hand.

More pain, more screams, more tears.

He waited for me to get my breath back before he spoke again. “You’re probably wondering why I went to so much trouble to steal tearstone just to make arrows out of it. Let me show you.”

Milo lifted his hand. I tensed, thinking he had yet another arrow to drive through my body, but purple lightning flared on his fingertips. He gave me another cruel smile, then flicked his fingers, shooting small bolts of lightning at the arrows embedded in my hands.

Tearstone was known for its ability to deflect magic, but Milo’s arrows didn’t do that. Instead, they acted like lightning rods, absorbing his magic and then shooting it out into my wounds. In an instant, my hands felt like they were on fire and being electrocuted at the same time, and the sensation zipped up my arms and out into the rest of my body. I screamed and screamed, but I couldn’t stop the searing agony of his magic . . .

I must have passed out, because the next thing I knew, Milo was looming over me again. His lightning was gone, and he was studying me with a curious expression, as though I were a bug trapped in a jar that he was going to scorch with a magnifying glass—again.

He gave me another wicked grin. “And now, for the really fun part—my favorite part.”

All my strength was gone, and all I could do was stare at him dully, wondering what new horror was coming next. Milo grinned again, then reached down, took hold of the arrow in my right hand, and yanked it out.

I hadn’t thought anything could hurt worse than the coral-viper whip peeling the skin from my back, the arrow punching through my hand, or the tearstone conducting his lightning through my body.

I was wrong.

The hooked barbs lining the arrowhead dug into my skin, ripping and tearing and chewing through my muscles, tendons, and bones, and doing as much damage as possible.

More pain, more screams, more tears.

Milo held the arrow up where I could see it. My blood coated the weapon, turning the tearstone such a dark blue that it almost looked black.

“Oh, don’t worry, Gemma,” he said, seeing my horrified expression. “I don’t have Uncle Maximus’s mutt ability to absorb magic from blood, so I have no interest in drinking yours. Although it is rather amusing to watch it spurt out of your body.”

He tossed the arrow onto an empty table across from the one I was lying on. The clank-clank-clank of the projectile sliding across