Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Adrian zoomed forward, grabbed Ruben by the collar of his tailored pale-blue shirt, and jerked him into his rolling leather chair. Air rushed out of Ruben, and he coughed.
“Now, we can’t have you hitting the panic button and calling up all your goons,” Adrian chided. “Not before you tell us who your boss is.”
Ruben’s wide gaze snapped up to Adrian. Tyche didn’t think it was possible for the man to change color yet again, but he definitely looked greener after Adrian’s question. “What? No! Why do you think I have a boss?”
While he was holding Ruben’s full attention, Adrian held out his right hand and gave it a flick. In a flash, a long silver blade appeared between his fingers. He pointed the tip at Ruben’s nose. “Because you’re not smart enough to arrange all this on your own.”
“Who’s running the death camps?” Shey demanded.
“Wait a minute! Those aren’t death camps. We are—”
“Tell that to Yesuntei!” Tyche roared. He launched out of the chair, sending it clattering to the floor behind him. He threw himself at the desk, leaning across it until he was practically in Ruben’s face. “Your goons killed the Goddess of Nightmares! You killed her, and she’d done nothing to you! She was the sweetest, kindest person in all of Thia, and you killed her! And now you’ve unleashed her sister’s wrath on us all.”
As he raged, the pearl of magic he’d taken from Yesuntei burned in his pocket, scalding his leg. It called out to him, begging him to take that power as his own. He could use it to plunge Ruben deep into the worst nightmare possible. A nightmare he’d never wake from. It would shatter his mind and devour his soul. He pressed his left hand over the ball.
“What about the hundreds of others you’ve killed during the past several months?” Haru asked in a deceptively calm voice. “People who disappeared from their homes and work. People who disappeared off the streets. You’ve created a world where all the common folk in Damardor are too desperate and scared to speak up. You think they don’t notice all the missing faces, but they know and remember.”
“Tell us who your boss is, and we might consider letting you live,” Adrian urged.
Tyche clenched his teeth as Ruben continued to wheeze and stammer, not giving them any answers at all. In his mind, he caressed a large, fat blob of juicy bad luck. It was dark and ugly, practically leaking with nasty bad luck. Right now, it was sitting right at the top of all Ruben’s luck. It would take nothing for Tyche to give it a nudge, popping it so that it covered the asshole completely, but he worried. If he used it, there was a good chance that Ruben would have a heart attack or some kind of aneurysm that killed him instantly. He wanted this man to suffer.
“Please, you don’t understand. If he discovers I told you, he’ll kill me. We can make a deal. I’m sure. If I tell you, I’ll lose everything!” Ruben pleaded.
“You’re going to lose everything if you don’t speak,” Haru argued.
“But-but—”
“Wait,” Shey snapped. He moved closer to the desk and placed a restraining hand on Tyche’s shoulder, which vibrated with tension. He wanted this man dead in the worst way, but something inside him calmed when Shey touched him. Tyche looked up to find Shey regarding Ruben closely through narrowed eyes. Ruben’s wheezing breaths were the only thing to break the second of tense silence.
“Never mind. Adrian, kill him. He won’t ever talk,” Shey declared.
“No!” Ruben screamed. He lunged forward and his right hand slapped a spot under the desk. As soon as he hit it, relief flooded his expression, and he grinned. “Try to kill me. No one knew Prince Shey was in my prison, and no one ever has to know that he was here now.” He turned his ugly sneer on Tyche. “So-called god. Trapped for months in my prison. You’re no god.”
“Yeah, fuck this,” Tyche muttered. With a mental flick, the bad luck popped. He watched it ooze over all the bright balls of luck Ruben had never used, seeming to melt them. The large man gasped and choked while clutching his chest. He tumbled back, forcing Adrian to leap out of the way as the man writhed on the floor.
“Ty?” Adrian called out.
“That was a nasty bit of luck,” Tyche admitted, his eyes locked on Ruben as he slowly died. “So glad I used it. This is rather satisfying.”
“Just a warning. We’re about to have company. Sounds like his entire security force,” Haru stated in a bland tone.
“Fuck,” Adrian snarled. “Haru, find the Firestone shard and any of his others if you can. Tyche, find his tablet. He’s always carrying it. It must have valuable information on it. Find it and use whatever good luck you have to keep it safe.” He turned his attention to Shey and tilted his head slightly toward the double doors as if in invitation.