A Shade of Vampire 80 A Veil of Dark - Bella Forrest Page 0,10

I’d expected,” he said, joining Valaine and me as we walked toward the Darklings.

The Crimson guards held them down, binding their hands with strong ligatures—some kind of metal alloy thread, from what I could tell, impressively strong. Then again, we were dealing with Aeternae. They knew how to keep their own people restrained, if push came to shove.

“Most of them are underlings, though,” I reminded Corbin.

Petra’s disciple removed the mazir barrier and stepped to the side, ready to intervene if needed. Valaine, Corbin, and I stopped in front of one of the identified Darklings, a young Aeternae male still in his early twenties, judging by his smooth skin and bony frame. One of the Crimson guards removed his silver plates, ripping the leather straps in the process.

“You don’t deserve the uniform, traitor,” the Crimson guard spat, tossing the armor away from the Darkling cluster.

“I have rights!” the young Darkling replied. “You’ve no proof I did anything wrong!”

Corbin took the black-and-white thread from the Crimson guard and showed it to the Darkling. “They found this hidden beneath your shoulder plate. You’re a Darkling and a traitor to the empire.”

“I’m innocent!” the Darkling insisted, but his heart was racing, sweat already dripping down his face. As much as he tried, he still came across as disingenuous. I’d always believed that people who were terrible liars had a tendency for good, so I had to wonder… what had pushed him to join this murderous faction?

“You’re a Darkling, and you’re going to tell us where Zoltan Shatal, your so-called Scholar, went,” Corbin replied, towering above the former silver guard, who held his head up despite kneeling.

Valaine said nothing, watching as the conversation unfolded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Darkling said, sticking to his story. Given his age, I had a feeling we could break him. The less experienced a cult member was, the more likely they could be swayed into cooperation.

“All Darklings identify one another by this black-and-white thread. What is its significance?” I asked, trying to get the ball rolling. Corbin shot me a brief and cold glance, which quickly softened as he understood the angle I was playing from.

The Darkling didn’t answer, and Corbin gave the Crimson guard a faint nod. It was enough for the soldier to punch the Darkling. I heard his jaw crack, and the fiend cried out from the pain. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. An Aeternae’s punch was clearly devastating—there was only so much this guy would be able to take before Corbin decided to cut off his head and be done with it.

I moved closer, crouching so I could look him in the eye. “The sooner you talk, the quicker it will end for you,” I said. “Forget everything the Darklings taught you. They gave you a poison capsule to kill yourself in case you got caught because they know you will crack. You all crack. But now… Buddy, you don’t have the poison anymore. Be logical. Adjust.”

The Darkling sneered at me, his fangs bloody from the Crimson guard’s punch. “I will never crack.”

“You say that now,” I muttered, stepping back.

Corbin grabbed him by the throat and raised him off the ground, his boots dangling several inches above. The Darkling coughed and choked in his hold, but Corbin didn’t relent. Instead, he squeezed tighter, his claws extending and digging into his skin. They would draw blood in a few moments.

“Do you feel that?” Corbin asked, though he obviously didn’t expect an answer. “That’s your skin breaking, my claws piercing it. I can take my time with you, too. I can poke holes until you have nothing left to poke. I will bleed you dry, and you will beg me to stop. You will implore me. You’ll want me to put an end to it. Do you really want things to get that far?”

“K-kill me… if you must. I’m not… I’m not telling,” the Darkling replied, barely able to breathe at this point.

“I can kill you, sure. But do you want it to be quick, or are you ready to spend days on end dying?” Corbin asked, his fangs growing and glistening with raw hunger for mindless violence.

The Darkling went pale, finally understanding what this was about. But even then, he managed to find a flicker of resolve, to which he held on. “I’m loyal. I say nothing.”

“That’s fine,” I replied. “You see, even if you don’t tell us anything, you will still be tortured and killed slowly—as slowly as possible, until