Page 22 of Sleeping with the Dark (The Righteous 3)
“Because you’re not afraid to die. You’re a man that has been very close to death, has smelt it.” He leaned forward and sniffed Trev’s shirt. “You’ve tasted it.” Alejandro ran the blade across his tongue, a thin line of red showing as he stuck his tongue out and then moaned as he swallowed the blood down.
“You have stared into the eyes of Nuestra Senora de la Santa Muerte and have lived to tell the tale.” Alejandro used the tip of the knife once more to draw lines down Trev’s chest with the blade. The sharp tip was drawing a tiny bit of blood as he drew a symbol that Trev couldn’t make out. There was a sharp bit of pain, but he was delayed in feeling it, like his nerves were late to the party.
“We are kindred spirits. I see you, Mr. Anderson, and you may, in fact, be a lawyer, a great one even, but you’re also guardian de la muerte.”
“My Spanish is a little rusty. Did you just call me a guardian of the universe?” The now bright, red metal knuckles once more collided with his face and was followed through with a sharp pain to his side. He stiffened and bit his lip hard as Alejandro pushed the blade deeper into his body. Blood poured down his side, the heat a stark contrast to his chilled skin. Alejandro pulled the blade quickly from his side, and he slumped against the chains. He glanced down at the seemingly harmless narrow line but knew that wound was deep. Probably hit a kidney or worse.
“See, this is what I mean. You don’t even scream. What fun is there in no screaming, right boys?” Alejandro rubbed at his goatee. “I guess I will have to try harder then.”
The room narrowed in for a few seconds, the sounds seemingly far away. It was the loss of blood and he knew it was only going to get worse. He’d suffered a bullet wound in his leg that was still bleeding, and it added with the wound in his side. He was going to struggle to stay conscious. Then again, maybe it was better if he passed out for what was to come. The soldier in him screamed no that he had to fight, he had to find his opening and never give up. That voice had been a chant that saved his life once, but could that chant work again?
“You really need to work on your hospitality,” Trev slurred.
Alejandro picked up two wires, and Trev swore in his head. He hated being electrocuted. He would have preferred just about anything else. Pull out his nails, break his bones, stab him again for all he cared. Fuck, shoot him in the head and get it over with, but electricity…that shit just sucked.
“Do you know what this is?”
“I don’t know. You planning on boosting a car?”
Alejandro gave a small laugh. “I will give you one last chance to tell me who you are, who you work for, and where you put my missing product? If you speak now, I will kill you quickly. If you don’t…I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”
Trev stared into the eyes of the man that was going to take his life, and there were only two things he wanted—to tell his brother how proud he was of him and to see his niece or nephew born. Actually, three things, because if he could, he’d go back in time and he would take Cody to his bedroom and fuck him the way he wanted to.
“My name is Trevor Anderson. I’m a defense attorney and was out for a nightly hunt, but shhh, don’t tell the cops,” Trev managed, and then Alejandro’s face became distorted as blood dripped into his eye.
“It’s a shame you tried to screw me over. I could use men like you in my family. Your resilience is admirable, your skill impeccable, but it’s also going to make this a lot more enjoyable.” Alejandro stuck the patches to his skin.
His skin was almost completely numb now, but he still shivered as the patches were applied to his body. “My name is Inigo Montoya, and you are the six-fingered man. You killed my father, prepare to die,” Trev mumbled.
Alejandro paused in what he was doing. “What the fuck does that mean?” Alejandro barked out. “Is it code?”
“I’m pretty sure that is from the movie Princess Bride, sir.” Trev heard one of the guards say, and he smirked. If he was going to die, he might as well have a little fun.
“You’re a comedian now. Let’s see how funny you are after this. Hit him,” Alejandro clapped his hands as Trev’s body went rigid and shook violently against the restraints. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t blink, and he was pretty sure he just shit his pants. The current stopped, and he slumped, panting hard.
“How did you like that, Mr. Anderson?”
“Death is a day worth living for,” he said, his voice shaking, but he couldn’t stop himself.
Alejandro narrowed his eyes into slits, his lips peeling back from his unnaturally white teeth.
“That one was from Pirates of the Caribbean,” the guard yelled, and Alejandro shot him a glare.
“Your men may be crap shots, but they know their movies,” he wheezed, his chest burning.
“Hit him again and up the level.”
He sucked in a breath just before the power hit, and he jerked violently in the chains like a fish out of water. The bravado was erased as the excruciating white-hot pain ripped through his body. He could feel liquid dripping from his ears and nose, and it felt like his heart was going to burst. The power shut off only long enough for him to get a couple of breaths in, and then they hit him again. This time, as the electrical currents raced through his body, he did scream.
“I love that sound,” Alejandro said as he once more slumped in the chains, trying to gasp for air.
“Yes, Satan? Oh, I’m sorry, Sir. You sounded like someone else,” he panted out.
“That one was…”
“Shut the fuck up,” Alejandro spun to yell at his guard, his voice echoing off the walls. “I fucking know that was Ace Venture.”
As Alejandro turned to face him, he laughed hard even though his entire body hollered in agonizing pain as he did so. Lifting his head enough to stare into his death. He smiled wide like a mother-fucker. “Do your worst. I live for death’s embrace.”
