Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Mr. Frankford,” I casually begin, hand applying an abundant amount of pressure to the side of his face, “I’m really going to need you to start answering my questions.”
He groans in discomfort to which I’m going to assume means he’s finally in a place of compliance.
“Do you work for Magitek?”
Receiving no immediate response prompts me into pushing hard, breaking his cheek bone. “Yes!”
“Oh, good, you understand how this works, now.” Additional force results in blood spilling past his squished lips onto the blank notepad. “Were you sent here to dismantle the company from the inside?”
Zuriel’s hesitation is met by compression so harsh one of his fangs pops out to float in the crimson pool. “No!”
Unconvinced but not completely certain of what other reason there could be is what has me asking, “Then why? Why were you sent to create strain among the board and this branch? Why have you been manufacturing fake complaints to the point that corporate HR—aka me—has been left with no choice but to get involved? What is the point if not to try to destroy the enemy from within?”
The single word is spat in ire, “Distraction!”
Red droplets land on my cream-colored shirt in such a way I can’t help but frown.
Great.
Now I can’t wear this shit to dinner.
More.
What do you mean more?
Cover.
You want me to cover myself in his blood?
Yes.
Why?!
Warrior.
That’s gonna be a no.
Orc.
Half. And the human half of me thinks that’s a little too Merc with a Mouth for me.
“Magitek sent you here to keep Ptur focused on the status of his company rather than continue to stop whatever torture or other fuckery they’re conducting. And if they sent you here to distract him then that also means the Draaks were closer to something than Magitek wanted them to be. Unfortunately for you,” my voice drops in volume and in darkness, “you made the mistake of fucking with my half. And if you hurt my half, I have to hurt you.” The smirk that slips onto my face is openly sinister. “More than I already have.”
One last harsh heave downward cracks my desk in two, sending the traitor plummeting to the floor. Yanking the scissors out of his hand is something I barely have time to do before both pieces of the furniture fold in, allowing all of my office supplies to cover him like toppings to an ice cream sundae. Grunts pop loose each time a new item makes itself known; however, the raining equipment doesn’t prevent his bloody hand from grabbing a hold of my ankle. His wrist is quickly met by a heavy stomp from my free foot, and I’m instantaneously granted the independence that should’ve never been in jeopardy.
“Unwanted advances are a violation of company policy, Mr. Frankford.” Another quick stamp is delivered. “You should know that being in HR.”
His mutilated hand displays a twitch of aggression.
How in the hell is he still…moving?
Fuck, how in the hell is he still conscious?
I mean I’ve got more strength than humanly possible—shout out to being half-orc—but how can a fucking vampire handle this much damage?!
Spine.
The one-word instruction doesn’t need a detailed explanation in order for me to follow it. Rolling my chair to the right is followed by me kicking off the piece of wood that’s blocking my view and jamming the sharp edge of the weapon into what I assume is a vulnerable area on any creature. Otherworldly hisses reverberate from wall to wall during the initial strike. Interpreting the sound as success is what spurs me to inch the blade up and stab him again. And again. And again, until I’ve reached the space between his shoulder blades. Contemplation to proceed silently begins out of concern that if I continue onward I may accidentally kill the creature that needs further interrogation, which would be counterproductive.
No.
No, it wouldn’t kill him?
Would.
Okay, then we stop.
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
Safe.
Yes, our half would be safe, but that’s a short-sided view of the situation. He would be safe right up until another asshole that’s probably undercover here as well steps up to do whatever this one couldn’t finish doing. We need to get him downstairs and into the dungeon for further interrogation. He most likely has valuable information and getting that will be how we keep our new family safe in the long run.
There’s a painfully long stretch of silence prior to a grunt.
Fine.
Feeling victorious on two fronts plants a wide mouth grin on my face as I lean a little closer to his face. With the scissors still poised for defense, I cautiously nudge his leg using my foot at the same time I ask, “You still alive?”
An airy huff is all he’s able to deliver.
Eh.
That’s plenty for now.
I’m sure they’ve got magical shit that they can use to heal him to the point where he can make full fledged sentences again. I mean if there were ways to suppress an entire half of a being, I can only imagine there are probably potions that exist for helping rather than harming…even if they’ll be used to help just long enough for the creature to get harmed again.