Four-Letter Words by Evans, Gabrielle (top 10 books of all time .txt) 📗

They’d started at the bottom of the ranks and worked their way up, hoping one of the underlings would prove to be a weak link. No one was talking, though. Not under threat of pain and death would they purge their secrets. It was frustrating and damn annoying. Of course, maybe if they really did start breaking some fingers, it might just loosen a few tongues.

They were better than that, though, something Lynk continuously reminded them each time one of them lost his temper. While honor and chivalry weren’t bad codes to live by, they didn’t get Thane the answers he wanted, either. “I want to find Zasha and figure out what’s happening at the main house. I say we leave the leader until tomorrow. I doubt he’s going to talk anyway.”

“I want to talk to him,” Torren argued. “He’s cocky and reckless. Guys like that can’t resist bragging.”

Thane found himself bobbing his head in agreement. “Okay, that actually makes sense.” He still wanted to go home. “Let’s get this over with.”

Exiting the cell, they waited for the guard on duty to lock it behind them, and then followed him to the very last stone building along the dimly lit walkway.

“Torren, don’t go in there.” Nix grabbed their brother’s arm and pulled him to a stop before he could enter the outer chamber of the cell. “You need to stay here.”

“Why? What do you see?”

“That man in there, I don’t know how, but he’ll be important to you.” His eyelids closed and flickered, fluttering his dark lashes against his cheeks. “You’ll love him.”

“You’re wrong,” Torren responded coldly. “I’ve found my Infinity. Aslan is everything to me.”

“I’m not wrong. This man is important. You have to protect him.”

“Fine, I’ll protect him. I’ll never love him, though. I think you’ve gotten some wires crossed, little brother.”

Torren appeared angry by the suggestion that his affections for Aslan would in some way be tested. Thane couldn’t blame him, but he’d also learned long ago to not take Nix’s prophecies too literally. Some were specific, such as the dinner they’d yet to be invited to, but most of the time, it was only vague impressions that didn’t even make sense to him.

Entering the dank prison, the brothers spread out to form a half-circle around the prisoner. The man knelt on the stone floor with his head bent, flexing his arms as he strained against the shackles that bolted him to the ground. “Who are you?” Torren demanded as he clipped the guy in the ribs with the toe of his boot.

“Torren,” Nix scolded. “Stop that.”

“Who are you?” Raith repeated Torren’s question, adding a low growl to his voice.

The guard poked his head in through the doorway and passed a donor bag of blood to Thane. “Make sure he gets that before you leave.” Then he touched the brim of his baseball cap and disappeared.

“He’s a vampire?” Hybrids were exceedingly common, but this particular hybrid was wickedly powerful—far more so than he should have been. “How old are you?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” the vampire answered. Finally, he lifted his head, peering up at Thane with a wide, toothy grin. “They don’t hand out birth certificates to babies abandoned in the gutter.”

“What’s your name?”

“Hmm, ya know, I just forgot.”

“Okay, can I hit him now?” Torren asked as he curled his fingers into a fist and pulled his elbow back.

“Knock it off. You’re being childish.” Rolling his eyes at Torren, Nix stepped forward, closer to the prisoner than strictly necessary in Thane’s opinion. “Answer the question. What is your name?”

“You have no power over me. Soon, you’ll have no power at all. Gods, you were so easy to manipulate. I’m fucking ashamed to call myself a Braddock.”

“What did you say?” Thane was shocked by the confession, but Torren just sounded highly pissed. “You’re a worthless piece of shit. You’re definitely not a Braddock.”

The young man’s eyes danced with an icy gleam as his calculating smile stretched wider. “Are you sure about that, Daddy? Not missing a kid, are you? Maybe a baby boy you abandoned over a hundred and fifty years ago?”

“I…” The blood drained from Torren’s face, leaving him sickly pale and trembling. “It can’t…”

The prisoner began to laugh, and it was the most chilling sound Thane had ever heard. “Aren’t you glad to see me? C’mon, Daddy, where’s the love?”

“No.” Torren shook his head, but he looked like he might vomit or pass out at any second. “They took you. I watched them take you away.” He stepped closer to the kneeling man but stopped when the guy snapped his fangs at him.

“Torren?” Thane had stayed quiet for as long as he could, but the entire scene was becoming very strange, and he wanted to know what the hell was happening. “Torren, who is this? How do you know him?”

His gaze never left the young man, and Thane swore he saw a suspicious shine to his brother’s eyes. “This is Addison,” Torren whispered, “and he’s my son.”

* * * *

Discovering Nix was absent from his room had been annoying. After his ordeal with the witches, Zasha had assumed the man would need time to rest and recover before traipsing down to Hell’s Alley to interrogate prisoners. Clearly, that hadn’t been the case.

After some internal argument and much debate, he’d finally decided it was probably for the best. Yes, he’d like some reassurance that everything would turn out in their favor. On the other hand, he didn’t think knowing his fate would really make a difference. Besides, after he’d calmed down some, he’d realized it was something he really should discuss with Thane—not Nix.

Rising from his seat in the formal sitting room when the Braddock brothers entered, Zasha held back, though every part of him wanted to rush to his mate. Something was wrong. He could see it in their faces, the dead look in their eyes. Whatever they’d learned in those dark, lonely cells had impacted