Grave New World Read online

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dulcie

  Unfortunately, my respite from Jax did not last long enough. Even worse, however, he wasn’t alone. He came equipped with two of his hulking thugs. As soon as he walked into my confined space, he eyed the empty plate and glass in front of me and smiled triumphantly. I figured he deemed it a small victory.

  “I’m happy to see that your stubbornness didn’t outlast your hunger,” he declared upon entering. I instantly wished I had been strong enough to have resisted my hunger pangs. I knew better, though. Despite not wanting to give him even a fraction of an inch of satisfaction, there was no sense in me starving. It would have been like cutting off my nose to spite my face.

  “Don’t rest on your laurels yet,” I rebutted icily as I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him with a lethal stare. “It’s not like I’ve suddenly reversed my position with regard to joining your ranks.”

  Jax chuckled as he shook his head, and the goblin with the missing teeth shut the door. The other henchman Jax brought with him was a werewolf—I could easily detect as much by his dank, earthy odor. Both sidekicks were burly, unkempt and ugly—the usual qualities, I suppose, for thugs. They stood behind Jax with their broad backs to the wall, both of them watching me as closely as a hawk watches a field mouse before it swoops down and snatches it.

  Jax, meanwhile, walked right up to me. “I didn’t expect you to change your mind,” he announced with a slight shrug. “And it doesn’t matter anyway; that ship has sailed.”

  “Then why did you come here?” I inquired as I eyed him suspiciously. “If you know I’m not going to join you?”

  “No need to remind me unless you’re a glutton for punishment and trying to sentence yourself to an untimely death,” Jax responded with a sarcastic, almost amused laugh.

  “No, I’m not. However, I thought maybe you’d care to divulge what kind of a plan you have in mind for Bram and me.”

  Jax inhaled deeply, and the cruel smile on his mouth vanished, replaced with a self-righteous one. “Patience, sweet cheeks. You’ll find out what my plan is for that traitor soon enough,” he answered, his grin broad. “And as for you, my pretty, little fairy, you’ve been summarily demoted. Your position has been relegated to that of collateral.”

  “Collateral?” I repeated. “What do you mean? Am I being held for ransom now?”

  “The ANC has something I want and need,” he started to explain.

  “The portals to and from the Netherworld,” I interrupted.

  “Yes,” he answered with a quick nod. “But I have something they want and need as well. In particular, I have something your boyfriend, Mr. Vander, wants very much, although I’m not sure how much he needs you. In fact,” he shrugged. “I’d probably be doing him a big favor if I did away with you.” Then he shook his head. “Women are the bane of all men’s existences.”

  “I’m not touching that comment with a ten-foot pole,” I ground as I shook my head and rage wound up inside me. “But what I can tell you is that you’re wrong about Knight. He won’t make the choice you think he will.”

  “Really?” Jax answered facetiously. “I’m not convinced.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I snapped at him. “I’m not worried; I know Knight will make the right choice. He’d sacrifice my life for the greater good, and that includes both the ANC and the Netherworld,” I continued, the heat of my anger tainting my voice. “Knight won’t cooperate with you, much less make the choice you think he will.”

  “Again, I beg to differ, but I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” Jax answered. His vision narrowed as he studied me closer, and a hint of curiosity shone in his eyes. “Maybe you might be right, but I will still take that bet. And regardless, I doubt you’d be so foolish as to believe we didn’t allow for that outcome as well.”

  “So I have to ask to whom are you referring when you say ‘we’?” I started as he began to shake his head, like I wasn’t going to get any further on this topic. “Come on, Jax,” I continued. “Why don’t you just tell me the name of the party that’s calling all the shots? We both know there’s no way you’re the brains behind this big of an organization,” I baited him, hoping with all my might that the loud-mouthed dolt would bite.

  Sadly, he did not. “Careful now, you’re out on a sheet of very thin ice. You don’t want to make me angry, do you? Wouldn’t want to tell Prince Charming that his girlfriend fell out of the equation because she didn’t know when to stop running her stupid mouth.”

  I ignored his lame attempts to stoke a reaction from me. “Like I told you before, Knight won’t negotiate, or even consider making any kind of deal for my freedom with you, so you can clean that useless thought right out of your head!” I repeated, once again.

  “Is that so? I have to wonder if that will be the case in the end.”

  “You can stop wondering right now. It will be,” I said with a clipped nod. Then, taking a deep breath, I tried to keep my thoughts away from Knight and what choices he would or wouldn’t make. Every time I pictured his handsome face, it only resulted in making my heart ache. I was starting to wonder if I’d ever see him again. And that thought was such a painful one, I refused to dwell on it. Instead, I faced Jax again, and exhaling my sadness, I demanded: “Why are you here?”

  “How much do you know about torture, sweet cheeks?” Jax nearly interrupted me in his eagerness to reply. His tone was cheerful, even upbeat. And a happy smile brightened his face, making him look downright elated.

  At the very sound of the word “torture,” my stomach flopped. “Not a lot, but I have a feeling you’re going to enlighten me,” I answered. Naturally, I had to wonder where this conversation was headed. A dark, ugly place, no doubt.

  “Ah! Then allow me to enlighten you,” Jax replied. “I have always been intrigued and fascinated by the concept of how to successfully break another person’s will in order that they obey mine.”

  “That comes as no surprise,” I grumbled as I took a deep breath and wondered what he had in store for me. Of course, it wasn’t by coincidence that Jax and his men had come here to discuss torture with me …

  “I’ve been studying up on modes of torture throughout the ages,” he pedantically droned on as if he were lecturing a university class. “I’ll share with you a few of my favorites.” I started to reply, but he silenced me with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The Sicilian Bull is definitely one to satisfy your curiosity and interest,” he continued. “Have you ever heard of it?” I shook my head. “No?” he asked with a broad grin. “Well, it originally comes from ancient Greece.”

  Jax was so unpredictable, and his unpredictability paired with his volatility and capriciousness combined to become his worst characteristic. It was also the one that frightened me the most. “No,” I said. “And I’m not interested in hearing one of your tedious history lessons, Jax. Whatever you’re planning to do to me, just get on with it!”

  Jax appeared taken aback, although I couldn’t explain why my reaction surprised him. “Come now, who said I was planning to do anything to you?” he asked, as if that were the last thought occupying his thick skull. He glanced back at his goons, and both of them snickered in response to his cue. “Anyway,” he resumed as he turned back to face me, pasting that stupid grin on his face again. “Where was I again? Oh yeah … The Sicilian Bull. It was a solid piece of brass that was cast in the shape of a life-sized bull. However, it had a door on one side that could be opened and latched. The unfortunate victim would be placed inside the bull while a large bonfire was ignited underneath it. The victim died by slowly roasting and, no doubt, uttering desperate screams while suffering in agonizing pain.”

  “Sounds charming,” I muttered with a frown. But inside my heartbeat was racing despite my attempts to remain calm. I wondered if that exact, same device might be lurking somewhere in Bram’s pretentious home. Maybe that’s why Jax was calling attention to it in the first place?

  “Why was it called the Sicilian Bull
, you may ask?” Jax continued. “Well, that was entirely owing to its design. The bull was purposely molded to amplify the victim’s screams in such a way that when they were heard, it sounded like the bellowing of a bull.”

  “How resourceful! The original designer must have been very creative,” I said, trying my best to appear unconcerned and sedate.

  “Yes, most creative,” Jax agreed with a quick bob of his head. “Another means of torture that I find particularly interesting was called the Heretic’s Fork. This was merely a piece of metal with essentially two forks sticking out of either end. One end of the device was pushed beneath the person’s chin, while the other was positioned at his sternum. A strap was used to secure the victim’s neck to the ingenious tool. Then, they would hang the victim from the ceiling and keep him or her suspended which would prevent the person from falling asleep. If the unfortunate person’s head dropped, as it eventually had to, the sharp prongs on the forks simply pierced the throat and the chest at the same time.”

  I heard one of the assholes behind Jax snickering, and Jax turned to face him. “And how long do you think you’d be able to stay awake for? A few days? Maybe a week?”

  “I dunno, boss,” the goblin answered, “but that’s a pretty shitty way to go!”

  “Yes, it is,” Jax agreed as he turned back to me. “That is definitely a pretty shitty way to go.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I demanded, my anxiety growing nearly intolerable with every passing second.

  “No reason,” Jax answered with a harsh laugh. “I figured you were getting bored and would want some company. Figured I could amuse you with some lively … conversation.”

  “I’m not and I don’t.”

  “The Lead Sprinkler was another party pleaser,” Jax continued as if I’d never said anything. “You start with a cylinder, or whatever implement you can fill with molten lead, tar, boiling water or, preferably, boiling oil. Then, by dripping the contents onto various body parts, usually the eyes, it proved pretty successful in obtaining information and confessions.” He paused, probably for dramatic effect. “But you had to be quick in getting your information out of the victim because molten silver, for example, in the eyes has a way of killing quickly.”

  “Stop it,” I demanded as I held up one hand and exhaled deeply. “I’ve heard enough. Whatever you have in store for me, just do it! I’ve been tortured long enough by having to sit here and listen to you talk about it!”

  “The concept that all of these tortures and techniques relied on,” Jax persisted without any apology or hesitation. His eyes appeared so piercing, I wondered if he could see right through me. “… was making the victim feel less than human. The pain one receives during torture is undeniable, yes, but there are also more traumatic, dehumanizing aspects that are just as important.” He briefly cleared his throat before resuming his unending oration. “For its traumatic injuries, the Judas Cradle was a good example. The victim would be stripped naked in front of an audience, a humiliation in itself, and then he or she was forced to sit on a pyramid-shaped cradle. Slowing being forced down onto this pointed structure with the use of ropes and tethers, the intent here was to stretch and rupture the victim’s anus over a long, gradual period of time, thereby slowly impaling the poor bastard until death.”

  Jax glanced behind himself and nodded toward his two thugs. They immediately sprang into action, approaching me. Before I even had a chance to figure out what they intended to do next, the goblin gripped my upper arms and secured my hands behind my back. The were standing in front of me smiled with smug satisfaction.

  “Dehumanizing the victim,” Jax continued as I breathed out in obvious disinterest. “I believe is one, if not the most, important factor in successful and proper torturing technique,” he said as he took a few steps closer to me. The three of them were towering over me now, making me feel very small and very helpless.

  “I have an idea!” I retorted angrily. “Why don’t you make this a fair fight, Jax?”

  “A fair fight?”

  “Let me use my magic to defend myself. At least that way, your conscience, if you have one, can be eased. Only a piece of shit coward would shoot an unarmed man, or woman, as the case may be.”

  Jax didn’t respond immediately. When he did, it was only to nod at the were, who immediately stepped closer to me. He reached forward with his clawlike, long fingernails, clasping my shirt.

  “This will not be a fight,” Jax said.

  The were shredded my shirt in an instant. I tried to resist and pull away from him, mostly because I was afraid he would cut me with his talons in the process, but the goblin that held me in place did a fine job of keeping me immobilized. When my bra was eventually revealed, the were simply slipped his finger under one of the straps and snapped it forward, severing it in two with his razor sharp nail.

  “Why are you doing this?” I demanded. My voice trembled despite all my efforts to control it as visions of molten silver dropping into my eyes and a pyramid shoved up my ass, not to mention the bellow of a Sicilian Bull, danced through my head. “If I’m just collateral, why torture me?”

  “I am not a man who is accustomed to having a generous offer, such as I gave to you, declined,” Jax explained. There was no trace of a smile in his voice or on his face any longer. The were had already severed my other bra strap and now my breasts were naked and visible for everyone to see.

  Jax made no motion to conceal the fact that his attention was riveted on my breasts. He didn’t wait very long before he approached me and reached out to run one of his fingers across my nipples. They immediately responded, by growing hard and pebbly, despite my utter chagrin and mortification. “Such a shame,” he said as he tsked me, and his eyes finally lifted to mine. Cocking his head slightly to one side, he continued the monotonous lecture. “Moving on, sweet cheeks, I’m sure you’ve already heard of the Rack, so I won’t bend your ear with that one. But what about the Tongue Tearer?”

  “Enough of this, Jax, you’ve made your point,” I snapped, my heart pounding through my ears. The were was already working on the waist of my yoga pants. His intrusive finger was resting on the inside of the elastic band, just beneath my belly button.

  “The Tongue Tearer, and I don’t mean t-e-r-r-o-r, but t-e-a-r-e-r, looked very much like an oversized pair of scissors,” Jax driveled on. The were, obviously interpreting Jax’s words as some form of encouragement, jerked down on my pants before ripping them in two. When I realized he was attempting to strip them clean off me, I did the only thing I could: I kicked him in the crotch. The goblin stationed behind me knelt down, and still holding my wrists with one hand, he wrapped his other hand and arm around my ankles, anchoring me in place.

  “Jax, there’s no reason for you to do this!” I pleaded, realizing with horror how dour my situation was fast becoming. I faced the perpetrator and found him smiling, as usual, at me. It became as clear as day that Jax enjoyed every second of my discomfort and intimidation. “You know as well as I do that you don’t fuck with collateral. If you’re going to hold me as ransom, you have to keep me alive and healthy, you sadistic fuck!”

  “As I said before, I have no intention of killing you, sweet cheeks,” Jax replied. Then, he laughed and shook his head at the goblin like I was just a big idiot. They both snorted in response, the assholes. “Sheesh, Dulcie, you’re so serious! You’re almost a buzzkill,” he finished as he faced me again. “Now, where were we?” he asked while drumming his index finger against his lip and doing his best to look mindful. “Ah, yes, now I recall … the Tongue Tearer. The victim’s mouth had to first be forced opened using something called a ‘mouth opener.’ Then the iron Tongue Tearer was inserted into the open mouth and attached to the tongue. Once a firm grip was established, a large screw would be periodically tightened on the device, and eventually, the victim’s tongue would be ripped clean out.”

  The were grasped the shredded fabric of my pants and pulled it away from me. Now all of my assets were
bare and fully revealed. I had to flush with embarrassment as all three of the perverts stared at my female parts. Jax exaggerated how much he was eyeing me up and down, eventually resting his vision on the junction of my thighs. I had a fairly good idea what to expect next; and although I did my best to prepare myself for it, I couldn’t say anything I did managed to alleviate my unease.

  “Rat torture from the medieval period might be my very favorite,” Jax trailed on in a flat tone as his eyes rose from the center of my thighs back to my face.

  “If you ripped my clothes off to rape me, then just do it!” I shouted, intending to thwart him as best I could. “But I’ll be damned if I’m going to listen to another second of the bullshit that’s coming out of your mouth.”

  “Rape you? Who said anything about rape?” he asked as he shook his head. “We are civilized men here, sweet cheeks.” He looked at the other two men in the room with a baffled expression. “And civilized men do not attack defenseless,” he said, dropping his gaze to my breasts and then my thighs, “naked women.”

  “Then leave me be!” I demanded. “If you’re truly a civilized man, act like it! Start treating me like the collateral you say I am.”

  Jax inhaled and exhaled deeply as though he were on stage. “One of the most vicious and effective torture techniques of all involved the use of a cage,” he prattled on. “One side was left open and strapped against the victim’s bare stomach.” Reaching forward, he ran his finger across my abdomen. I tried to avoid him, but the goblin dutifully held me in place. “The cage would then be filled with live rats, and a heating implement, of any sort, was placed on the other side of the cage. As you can probably already imagine, the rats wanted to survive and would do anything to escape the intense heat. Consequently, they would bite and burrow their way through the victim’s body to avoid being incinerated.”

  “So are you going to feed me to the rats?” I asked, feeling like this conversation would never end, and might end up being the true source of my demise. “Have you finished yet?”