My very dry, offended tongue, I might add. Seriously, the bitter flavor of the gag was straight-up disgusting.
Okay, removing that was going to be a no-go. But there had to be something else.
Reopening my eyes, I focused on the room. Dark, chilly, damp. Low ceilings, stone walls. The only source of light came from the two torches that hung from either side of the closed door on the other end of the room. No windows.
Definitely a dungeon. But a messy one. It was full of shit. The shelves and tables around me were littered with clay beakers, coils of leather, gears of all shapes and sizes, metal and wooden doohickeys that made no sense to me, along with piles of scrolls with what looked like crazy scribblings on them from where I squinted.
If I were on Earth, I’d say it looked like a mad scientist’s laboratory, like someplace where Dr. Frankenstein had created his monster. Then my gaze moved to the center of the room, and I became utterly convinced that’s exactly what this was.
Because seriously, what the fuck was that thing?
It was exactly the kind of machine Frankenstein’s monster would be born on.
Constructed entirely of wood and metal, the creepy contraption sitting in the middle of the room had to be a torture device straight from my nightmares. With a complicated mess of pulleys, gears, and levers surrounding it, the main area was really quite simple, involving three slabs: two wooden planks crisscrossed for a place to shackle arms and legs, forcing all four limbs to spread apart equally, and a shorter plank nailed to the middle to hold a head and torso. Then there were more metal manacles to clamp the person’s hips, chest, and forehead into place.
I gagged, and panic rolled over me again. Thrashing anew, I flailed so hard against my restraints that I realized I had a wound in my side that I hadn’t been aware of before. Sucking in a pained gasp, I bowed against the agony, and tears seeped down my cheeks. But Christ, when had I gotten that one? More than one rib had to be broken.
They must’ve kicked me while I was unconscious.
He must’ve kicked me.
Everett of House Teller, I remembered.
Indigo’s uncle.
That was who’d captured me. But who held me now? He’d told his lackey they would be rewarded for keeping me alive, which had to mean they’d passed me on to someone else. Right?
But who? The King of High Cliff?
I was just beginning to think maybe I wasn’t going to be able to escape this place when the door opened, and Indigo’s uncle stepped inside.
“Ah,” he replied pleasantly when we made eye contact. “You’re finally awake. Excellent.”
He shut the door behind him and strode into the room, coming over to inspect me. He appeared much more cheerful now than he had the last time we’d spoken. When I’d told him I had killed his son.
But then, why wouldn’t he be? He had me completely under his control to torture as he wished. It had to be any avenging father’s dream come true.
“Well, look at that,” he murmured in awe and lifted his hand to my face. I tried to move my head to the side, away from his touch, but he just kept coming until he’d gently wiped a tear off my cheek. Then he frowned as if confused as he inspected the drop of wetness on the tip of his finger. “Graykeys can cry. How remarkable.”
The slap came next. Out of nowhere.
One second, he was staring at his fingertip, and the next, his palm came flashing through the air until it cracked against my already sore cheekbone. Pain exploded in my skull. A bright light flashed in my eyes. And then Everett was pointing severely at my nose. “Cry in my presence again, and I’ll cut out your eyes. Got it?”
Yep. That command was crystal clear. I totally got it.
Muffling out a sound of outrage through the gag, I slid my gaze past him, unable to focus on him a moment longer. He had a common countenance, with an average, middle-aged body and a face that was just beginning to show some wear. He seemed to be in good shape for his age. But it was his eyes that haunted me.
They were the same shade of blue as Indigo’s. The only difference was how they lacked that mischievous, cheerful spark of life Indy’s eyes had. So looking into this man’s face was like staring at a dead version of my true love, and I couldn’t handle it.
But staring past him made me focus on that thing.
Following my gaze, Everett grinned. “I see you’ve noticed my invention.” Stepping to the side so I could see it fully, he splayed out a hand as if to introduce us, though I had a bad feeling I’d get a much more up-close-and-personal taste of it sooner than I liked.
“I call it the extractor,” Everett announced, the pride in his voice thick and obvious. “It’s going to help you tell me exactly where all your other living Graykey kin are.”
I muffled out a response, something I hoped he translated as, you can go fuck yourself with it, is what you can do.
Chuckling as if he understood, he set a hand to his ear. “What’s that? I can’t make out what you’re saying with that rag in your mouth.”
I sent him a glare. Fuck…you…I elocuted as clearly as I could.
His eyebrows shot up. Yeah, he’d definitely heard that one.
“Not very ladylike, are you?” he reprimanded with a tsk, and shook his head only to sigh. “Then again, what could one expect, coming from a Graykey?”
My hands might be shackled, but my fingers weren’t. So I flipped him off with both middle fingers.
Too bad the gesture was only considered rude on Earth. He had no idea how much fouler I’d just been to him.
Oh, well. I knew.
Smirking behind my gag, because giving him the bird made me feel better inside, I brightened enough to breathe easier. I mean, it wasn’t as nice as I’d feel unchained from the wall and out of this damn torture room, but sometimes you had to take your amusement wherever you could get it.
I’d learned that from Indigo.
I had thought he was insane at first when he’d been sitting on that damn zebra, looking like a fool with his hands bound together as our prisoner, and all he’d done in response was smile and hum “Singin’ in the Rain” as if everything was grand.
But now I had to admire him for it. Because even though the situation hadn’t been magnificent, he’d somehow made the best of it. He could weather a storm with humor and cheer like no one I’d ever met before.
I had a bad feeling that might be the only way I was going to survive this storm. By not losing my mind and falling victim to the darkness.
Because looking at Everett’s extractor kind of made me want to hyperventilate until I went mad with fear and fell straight into a vat of mindless terror.
“That’s okay,” Everett was saying, forcing me to focus on him. “Your vulgarity will only help me treat you more like the vile piece of scum you are. Help remind me what you did to my son.” Stepping closer, he caught my chin and forced me to look up at him, the wicked intent in his gaze making me shudder. “And you will suffer for that.”
His gaze ran over my face and down to my chest, and his lashes lowered with lust. “Prepare to suffer in every way imaginable, whore.”
Bile rose in my throat as his hand released its grip on my chin, and one of his fingers began to trail down the side of my neck.
With my protests muffled behind the cloth, I could only thrash against his touch, unable to avoid him as his fingers moved over my collar. I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed convulsively, not able to avoid the feel of him.