Page 108 of The Darkness is Calling

“Sleep for two or three hours, and then we’ll deal with them. That also gives them the chance to believe they’re getting a quiet night before we drag them awake into torture. You know it’s more effective when you rip them out of sleep straight into it, rather than when they’re already on alert.”

“Besides, you need strength,” Dima adds.

“He means we don’t want you passing out in there after all the blood you lost,” the blond clarifies, just as serious as the others.

I sigh, but they are right. In the last hour, I felt the room spin around me twice, but I ignored it. Any interrogation would be a complete failure if I dropped to the floor in front of the prisoners. And the headache reinforces my decision to listen to them and go to bed.

“You wake me,” I tell them after draining the last sip of vodka from my glass.

“We’ll let you sleep as long as you need.”

“You wake me,” I say in a decisive tone. “We can’t let those men rest too long either, or they’ll be more resistant to torture.”

“You are more important, Pakhan,” Dima says. “Then you’ll have plenty of time to play with them.”

And then an idea comes to me.

“Then, while I sleep, someone should handle them. To make them nice and tender.”

That gets their attention.

“Every half hour, throw ice water on them. Preferably while they’re asleep.”

Sasha immediately perks up, radiating enthusiasm.

“I’ll do it. Especially since cold water is good for the skin.”

“That’s exactly my idea. Their skin should be nice and pretty when we play with blades on it.”

“I love it,” he exclaims like a child being told he is going to the toy store.

Which makes all of us smile.

The room feels deserted, despite the furniture that has always been here.

The rain started about an hour ago, now striking noisily against my window, while clouds smother any light that might have come from the sky. Weather like this has always calmed me, as if it sent the voices to sleep. But tonight, my voices howl in pain, like wolves crying their grief to the moon.

The cold bed makes my skin prickle with longing, and even though sleep claims me quickly – because of the wounds that have weakened me so much – is scattered with ghostly touches from the woman I wish I had beside me now. Even through sleep, angry voices demand I bring her back and whisper that I would feel much better if her delicate fingers were touching my cheek right now, in that gentle way of hers.

I am trapped between beautiful dreams, with warm songs whispered by blue eyes, and the reality of an empty, cold bed.

Of course, no one comes to wake me, so my eyes find the strength to fully open when the clock on the nightstand reads 9:42 am.

Fuck.

I slept too long.

But I hope my toys are ready for the fun I have been planning since last night.

Fifteen minutes later, I go downstairs, where I find my brothers in the kitchen with Polina.

“How do you feel?” the woman immediately bursts out with a mother’s concern. “I made pancakes, they’re still warm, and I can make you the omelet you like. What do you want?”

I let her finish her worried rambling, then answer. “Coffee.”

“And food?”

“A banana.”