Stryker frowned as he noted the thin black band wrapped around the man's throat. It was a containment collar of some sort. "What are you?"
"I'm misery."
No doubt. The man more than looked the part. "Do you have a name?"
"Jared."
"I'm-"
"Strykerius, but you go by 'Stryker.' You hate the goddess you serve and you seek to kill her only son and claim vengeance on the former human who murdered your sister."
Stryker froze as the creature laid bare his plans. "How do you know that?"
"I know everything. I feel every heartbeat in the universe. Hear every scream for mercy and feel every tear of pain."
And he was spooking the shit out of him.
"Sorry," Jared said. "I do that to a lot of people."
"Do what?"
"Spook them."
"Can you hear my thoughts?"
Before you have them, I hear them. This time, he didn't speak. His voice was loud and clear in Stryker's mind.
"Stay out of my head."
Jared gave him a taunting grin. "Believe me, I would love to. It's a mess in there. But you're too close physically to me for me to block it." He banged his head against the stone wall. "Pain is the only way to keep your thoughts out of my head."
"Is that why they beat you?"
He gave Stryker a cold "duh" stare. "Mostly they just do it for fun."
Stryker honestly felt sorry for the creature, who had to be in absolute agony. There was something about him that seemed familiar, and yet Stryker couldn't place it. "How long have they held you here?"
Jared let out a tired breath. "Medea is coming."
The words had barely left his lips before the door opened to show her. Dressed in a red blouse and jeans, she was beautiful. No father could ask for a more perfect child.
A more loving one, perhaps, but not one more beautiful.
Her gaze went to Jared, where sympathy flashed for an instant but was quickly hidden behind a wall of stoicism. Jared's look, however, was angry and defiant.
She turned her attention to Stryker. "I'm sorry about your current position."
Jared scoffed. "Yeah, she's a basketful of sympathy. One glance at me tells you exactly how deep it runs."
"Shut up."
A leather muzzle appeared over the lower half of his face. Jared growled as he tried to jerk free of his chains or remove the muzzle, but it was useless. His muscles bulged as he fought against his restraints.
"Is that really necessary?" Stryker asked his daughter.
She ignored Jared's shouts and Stryker's question. "You should be more concerned about your own well-being."
"Why? You intend to kill me?"