Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Bracken and Marcus met them outside. Marcus, his eyes repeatedly flashing wolf, looked ready to explode with rage. It was understandable.
“We have a problem.” Bracken’s scowl was dark with anger. “They’re speaking in Russian.”
Nick frowned. “Russian?”
“At first I thought they were American but communicating in a different language to throw us off. But we checked their IDs. They’re polar bear shifters from Moscow.”
“They have to speak at least a little English,” said Eli.
“I would think so,” agreed Bracken. “They’re acting like they don’t understand us, but my guess is they’re playing dumb.”
“They’re chatting plenty in Russian to each other,” interjected Marcus, his voice barely human, “but I don’t know what the fuck they’re saying.”
“That’s all right.” Nick straightened his shoulders. “Once we’ve had a little quality time with them, they’ll speak plenty of English.”
“These guys don’t look like the type to easily give up information,” said Bracken. “Both of them are covered in enough scars to suggest they’ve been captives before. And polar bears are tough, tenacious fuckers.” Which meant that Bracken was right: they did indeed have a problem.
As something suddenly occurred to Derren, he said, “Hang on a second.” He returned to the main lodge, finding Ally still picking at her sandwich like a bird. “Baby, you speak Russian, right?” He recalled her telling him how her foster uncles had taught her several languages.
Her brows drew together. “Yeah.”
“Come with me.” Keeping her hand in his and ignoring her questions, Derren guided her to the toolshed.
Roni had joined the others outside the small building, trying desperately to calm her pacing mate.
When Marcus’s manic gaze locked on Ally, he nodded at her. “Thank you for healing Roni. Again.”
Ally gave him a half smile before turning to Derren. “Okay, why am I here?”
“The captives are Russian,” Derren replied. “We need you to translate for us. I’d rather you weren’t here to see this—interrogations aren’t pretty. But they might be able to tell us who put out the hit on us, and we need to know.”
Eli looked at Ally curiously. “You speak Russian?”
“She speaks five languages,” Derren told him, proud. “And that’s not including English.”
Bracken’s brows flew up. “Impressive.”
“Let’s get started.” Nick went to move but stopped as Derren spoke.
“Wait, I have an idea.” Once Nick heard and approved the idea, the Alpha led all six of them inside the shed. Derren guessed that Roni was only there to keep Marcus from slitting the polar bears’ throats before Nick was done questioning them.
Ally studied the heavily built shifters, who were each secured to a chair. They appeared bored as opposed to afraid, but their unease gave her pins and needles in her fingers.
Bracken broke the silence, pointing to the one on the left. “That over there is Andrei. Next to him is Misha.”
With a predator’s grace, Nick slowly walked to stand directly in front of them. “I don’t think I need to introduce myself.” The bears just stared at him. “As you can imagine, I have a simple question for you. Why did you shoot at us?”
Neither answered; both looked confused, as if unable to understand Nick. But Ally sensed no such confusion from them at all.
“I’ll ask one more time,” rumbled Nick. “Why did you shoot at us?”
Andrei flicked a look at Misha and said in Russian, “It would seem he doesn’t know about the hit.”
Amusement briefly glinted in Misha’s eyes. He replied in Russian, “The Alpha’s not so smart after all.”
Nick growled, his voice a crack of thunder. “I know you speak English, so don’t fuck with me. Answer my question.”
“And I suppose he’ll kill us if we don’t.” Andrei oozed exasperation. “Does he think we’d be stupid enough to believe that he’ll let us live if we talk?”
Misha shrugged one shoulder very slightly. “We can handle whatever he does to us. Not like we haven’t been sliced before.”
Nick began to very slowly pace in front of them. “Did you ever hear of a form of torture called ‘The Water Cure’?”
Andrei’s exasperation increased. “How can a cure be torture? This shifter makes no sense to me.”
Misha briefly glanced at his friend. “Like I said, he’s not smart.”
His tone that of a professor, Nick elaborated. “The torturers would secure their captive’s nose and then stick a tube down their throat. Then the torturers would pour either vomit or piss down the tube. Their captive wouldn’t be able to hold their breath for long, so they’d have to ingest what was in the tube.”
Ally almost smiled as both Misha and Andrei tensed.
Nick continued. “The torturers would do it over and over, only stopping when the captive was full. Like that’s not bad enough, the torturers would then use a stick to hit the captive’s stomach until he vomited. Worse, the torturers would then do it again. And again. And again.”
Andrei’s mouth twisted. His exasperation was replaced by apprehension. His eyes momentarily slid to Misha as he said—still speaking in Russian, “I must admit, I have not heard of that.”