Mark of Love (Love Mark #3) - Linda Kage Page 0,147

gears, and levers surrounding it, the main area was really quite simple, involving three slabs: two wooden planks crisscrossed for a place to shackle arms and legs, forcing all four limbs to spread apart equally, and a shorter plank nailed to the middle to hold a head and torso. Then there were more metal manacles to clamp the person’s hips, chest, and forehead into place.

I gagged, and panic rolled over me again. Thrashing anew, I flailed so hard against my restraints that I realized I had a wound in my side that I hadn’t been aware of before. Sucking in a pained gasp, I bowed against the agony, and tears seeped down my cheeks. But Christ, when had I gotten that one? More than one rib had to be broken.

They must’ve kicked me while I was unconscious.

He must’ve kicked me.

Everett of House Teller, I remembered.

Indigo’s uncle.

That was who’d captured me. But who held me now? He’d told his lackey they would be rewarded for keeping me alive, which had to mean they’d passed me on to someone else. Right?

But who? The King of High Cliff?

I was just beginning to think maybe I wasn’t going to be able to escape this place when the door opened, and Indigo’s uncle stepped inside.

“Ah,” he replied pleasantly when we made eye contact. “You’re finally awake. Excellent.”

He shut the door behind him and strode into the room, coming over to inspect me. He appeared much more cheerful now than he had the last time we’d spoken. When I’d told him I had killed his son.

But then, why wouldn’t he be? He had me completely under his control to torture as he wished. It had to be any avenging father’s dream come true.

“Well, look at that,” he murmured in awe and lifted his hand to my face. I tried to move my head to the side, away from his touch, but he just kept coming until he’d gently wiped a tear off my cheek. Then he frowned as if confused as he inspected the drop of wetness on the tip of his finger. “Graykeys can cry. How remarkable.”

The slap came next. Out of nowhere.

One second, he was staring at his fingertip, and the next, his palm came flashing through the air until it cracked against my already sore cheekbone. Pain exploded in my skull. A bright light flashed in my eyes. And then Everett was pointing severely at my nose. “Cry in my presence again, and I’ll cut out your eyes. Got it?”

Yep. That command was crystal clear. I totally got it.

Muffling out a sound of outrage through the gag, I slid my gaze past him, unable to focus on him a moment longer. He had a common countenance, with an average, middle-aged body and a face that was just beginning to show some wear. He seemed to be in good shape for his age. But it was his eyes that haunted me.

They were the same shade of blue as Indigo’s. The only difference was how they lacked that mischievous, cheerful spark of life Indy’s eyes had. So looking into this man’s face was like staring at a dead version of my true love, and I couldn’t handle it.

But staring past him made me focus on that thing.

Following my gaze, Everett grinned. “I see you’ve noticed my invention.” Stepping to the side so I could see it fully, he splayed out a hand as if to introduce us, though I had a bad feeling I’d get a much more up-close-and-personal taste of it sooner than I liked.

“I call it the extractor,” Everett announced, the pride in his voice thick and obvious. “It’s going to help you tell me exactly where all your other living Graykey kin are.”

I muffled out a response, something I hoped he translated as, you can go fuck yourself with it, is what you can do.

Chuckling as if he understood, he set a hand to his ear. “What’s that? I can’t make out what you’re saying with that rag in your mouth.”

I sent him a glare. Fuck…you…I elocuted as clearly as I could.

His eyebrows shot up. Yeah, he’d definitely heard that one.

“Not very ladylike, are you?” he reprimanded with a tsk, and shook his head only to sigh. “Then again, what could one expect, coming from a Graykey?”

My hands might be shackled, but my fingers weren’t. So I flipped him off with both middle fingers.

Too bad the gesture was only considered rude on Earth. He had no idea how much fouler I’d just