Another Half

The dungeon was located beneath the tower in the courtyard, and they went through a narrow side door of the tower. Blade found herself descending stone steps into a dark tunnel lit with a network of tiny lights on the ceiling with occasional nightlights along the ground. The tunnel might have reminded Blade of a night sky if it were not for the constant wail of a male in the distance that made her shiver more than the dropping temperature. An old female’s occasional burst of hysterical laughter sometimes drowned out the male’s wail.

“Who are they?” Blade put her palms on the side of her arms and rubbed them.

“That would be some of our political prisoners living out their dream life,” Sergio said as he continued to lead the way down.

Rex must have sensed her confusion and discomfort because he put his arm around her.

There are many prisoners here, Mate. Most have betrayed the pack or murdered a member of my family or committed some other sort of serious crime. They’ve been here for many years, barely kept alive to serve out their sentences. The male we’re hearing was infatuated with my grandmother’s sister. He murdered her and her Fated Mate when they completed the Mating Rituals. Since my grandmother was Luna at the time, my grandfather gave him the harshest sentence possible. He’s still alive but there's not much of his mind left. Death is definitely not the worst thing that can happen down here. As for the female, I have no idea who she is. I don’t think even my father knew. She's probably somewhere in the records.

“Rex, I’m pleading with you, consider telling someone else to interrogate the prisoners,” Sergio said.

Fuck. Not this shit again, Rex said.

“Let it go, Sergio.”

“But, Rex, she’s untried!”

Rex and Sergio were still arguing about Blade’s skill–or lack of skill, according to Sergio—for interrogating the wolves from Cobalt Lake when they reached a well-lit reception area where two well-armed male wolves greeted them. Despite arriving at their destination, the tunnel downward continued, and Blade briefly wondered who--or what--else was down there.

“I’m going to interrogate the she-wolf first. Alone,” Blade announced, bringing their argument to a stop. She loved to hear her mate stick up for her, but Sergio was getting tiresome. “Female subjects tend to talk to another female when there are no males around to judge or criticize them.”

Rex chuckled and nodded as a thrill passed through his side of their bond. Perhaps it was because he was the Alpha and he was always in control, but Rex seemed to find it arousing when she took control. That opened her imagination to the possibilities of what she could do to him in private.

You better stop that little train of thought right there before I tell everyone here to fuck off while I carry you back to our suite and lock us in for the next week...

Rex’s stoic expression belied the lust he was feeling.

Blade smirked in appreciation at his good humor. She had felt his irritation and disappointment earlier when they received Ax’s mind-link about finding the potential poisoner and then again when Sergio insisted they join him. She knew that, after last night, Rex had planned to stay with her all day in their suite, undisturbed. She couldn’t wait to be done so she could make his one sweet wish come true.

“Sergio, will you get me a box of tissues?”

“What? You’re going to torture her with tissues?” Sergio asked, crossing his arms.

“Don’t be such a dimwit,” she said, adjusting her thick braid over the left side of her neck. “If she’s been crying all this time, chances are she needs something to dry her eyes with.”

“She’s not saying anything. The bitch clearly needs a stronger, more painful hand not a tissue.”

Blade glanced at him. “Well, depending on how it goes, I might have to borrow one of Crys’s nail polish sets. But that’s only if she needs a stronger, more painful hand.”

Sergio paled.

Rex snicked. You’re kidding, right?

Blade giggled and winked at him. I have to see what I’m dealing with first. I’ll keep you posted.

A few minutes later, Blade went into the coldest room she had ever been into. Made of the same slabs of stone as the tower and the rest of the building, the room was dimly lit by several lightbulbs spread out throughout the ceiling. She couldn’t help but feel that, as old as it was, the entire structure was built to last. Blade ignored the sets of chains and shackles attached to the wall and the old dark reddish-brown stain on the stone floor that seemingly spilled from someone that had once upon a time hung from those shackles. Blade didn’t need to sniff too hard to know it was decades-old blood. She shuddered and headed to where a she-wolf of about her age was sitting on a stone bench. She was hugging herself tightly. Her long dark hair was hiding her face, but Blade heard her sniffing.

The young she-wolf looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Hi, I’m Blade.” She sat next to her, wary of where the woman kept her hands. The woman didn’t wear boots or bulky clothes, so Blade didn’t think she was hiding any weapons. Her clothes were old but clean and in relatively good condition. Her makeup, on the other hand, was a mess. Her eyeliner was smudged with her eyeshadow around her eyes giving her a tired raccoon look, and her mascara was everywhere except her eyelashes. She still had traces of her lipstick around her swollen lips.

“What’s your name?” Blade offered her the box of tissues.

“Iracema,” she said taking a tissue and blowing her nose. “Why are you here? Are you here to torture me?”

Blade held up the box. “With what? With tissues?

Iracema laughed nervously.

“No, I’m not here to torture you, Iracema. They sent me in because you’ve been crying and they wanted to make sure you are okay, that’s all. Are you hurt?”

Iracema shook her head.

Crys, do you mind lending me one of your nail polish sets? The one with all the crazy shades of red? And throw in some face wipes, cotton balls, a file, and nail polish remover.

Sergio was right! Crys replied almost immediately. Do you use nail polish to torture people?

It’s an extreme form of torture, but it’s very effective. For some reason, it only works on women, though. I’ll replace anything you send me. And can you loan me a couple of sweaters? Pretty please?

Blade waited as Iracema took several tissues to wipe her face. She let her subject take as much time as she needed while Blade remembered her grandfather. She must have been fifteen years old when her grandfather began to teach her about reading people and information extraction strategies, as he called it.

“Just call it torture, Abuelo!” Joaquin had protested. “It sounds way more interesting! I wanna torture people!”

“You’re being an idiot, Joaquin,” Blade had told him.

“But it’s true! Do we start with a knife first or do we go straight to injecting them with silver?”

After an hour of his insolence, Felix Zamora had had enough of Joaquin and banished him to clean out the stables.

“Most times, people will let you know what they need most at any given moment. Pay attention to what they want, to their little heart’s desires,” Blade’s grandfather said. He had been expertly peeling an orange with the knife his son and Blade’s father, Emilio, had made for him. “Give them what they want, and see how they react. If their reaction is favorable, they will be closer to giving you what you want, but watch them carefully. If all you want is information don’t use pain to get it out of them from the start, Mija. Pain is the ultimate destroyer. It’s hard to come back from a place of pain.” He finished peeling the orange, cut it in half, and gave her half.

“But, Abuelo, how will I know if they’re telling me the truth if they’re not motivated by pain?” Blade started to eat the orange her grandfather gave her. It was as sweet as it was juicy.

He shrugged. “Observe them and listen to your gut—your instinct. Right here,” he had said putting his hand over his stomach. “The key is in how they receive what you give them. Are they grateful? Or excited? Or do they feel entitled? You only move to more extreme when you’re not getting results. Extracting information—or torture, as people with small minds like your brother call it—is about power and who wields it.”

“So never inflict pain. Okay, got it.”

“I didn’t say that. Sometimes you’ll feel like going directly to an extreme is the best thing to do for a certain subject. Trust your instincts and never lose control over them. They’ll say all sorts of crazy shit to get out of their predicament. If you feel like they’re lying, they are.”

He put down the knife and ruffled her hair before leaning down and whispering in her ear. “Above all, be creative. You’ll be surprised by what you come up with.”

Blade’s grandfather took out another orange and started to peel it.

“Have you ever been tortured, Abuelo?”

“Too many times, Mija. Too many times.”

And for a moment, Blade’s grandfather looked as if he was remembering something that haunted him.