“Why only after a certain point?” he asked, confused.
I smirked. “Try stealing my breath while we’re fucking. I guarantee I’ll come all over your cock before it starts to become a negative experience.”
He swallowed roughly, and I watched his throat as he did. There wasn’t as much panic in his expression as when I’d teased him in our suite. Torture was proving to be neutral ground, something for us to connect over where he didn’t feel insignificant.
“It would be a better experience for both of us if I choked you with my hands and not my magic,” he murmured.
“Looking forward to it.”
Oswald crouched in front of us, the captive’s screams turned into gentle whimpers and cries. It was a fast-acting poison, but didn’t last long or do much except cause pain. He’d need another dose soon to keep the intensity up. “Loves, we should focus on the vampire and not on flirting,” he said dryly.
“You’re always such a spoilsport when I’m doing this.”
“Oh, so maybe I shouldn’t have saved your life multiple times. You have a tendency to be careless, little fin.”
“You were contractually obligated to save my life. Fuck, maybe you still are, since we still have our mental link. Want to test it?”
I tried to step over to the captive, but Ozzy’s hand on my chest kept me from moving past him. “Absolutely not. You’ve almost died once today. We won’t be making it a trend. Be careful.”
There was almost no way this captive would be able to do anything to me. Ama and Clement had him tied up tight to the chair. All my previous brushes with death had been the result of me being cocky and not securing my captives properly. Oswald had nothing to worry about, even if he couldn’t protect me using the same magic he’d had as a familiar.
“Do you have magic, as a vampire?” I asked curiously.
I grabbed another small knife and flung it to embed in the captive’s stomach, his screams renewing. Oswald sighed. “It’s rare for a non-pure-blooded vampire to have a magical ability. I’m half vampire and half merdemon.”
“Merdemon?” Nolan said. “I thought they mainly kept to themselves, breeding only with other merdemons in Zemterra.”
“My father liked to stick his dick in anything that moved, including pretty female vampires who lived on the shores of Cala Lake. He wasn’t strong enough to shift into a human form, so their love story was pretty short-lived, considering my mother couldn’t breathe underwater. She raised me by herself, on the shores of the lake.”
“Can you shift into a merdemon form?” I asked.
I took a deep inhale of his scent, trying to determine whether I could scent his other nature. It was hard to catch. Vampire was dominant in his scent, like witch was dominant in mine. Oswald shrugged. “I could, but it was a while before I was cursed when I’d last done it. After I was grown I didn’t stay by the lake in Zemterra, so there wasn’t much opportunity to shift.”
“You said you would tell us more about your curse. How did it happen?”
Oswald glanced over to the captive, whose screams were fading to whimpers again. “I feel like we’re kind of in the middle of something else right now. Maybe not the best time to have that conversation.”
His gaze slid to Amabella next, her keen eyes watching our every move. He had a point. Grilling him about how he’d come to be a familiar could wait.
“Fine. Nolan, why don’t you use your air magic on him while he’s still catching his breath from the poison?”
Nolan was as disappointed as I was to hear we wouldn’t be getting details on Oswald’s life pre-curse, but still grinned at my suggestion. “You’re a sadist, darling.”
He hadn’t called me darling since I’d started incessantly flirting with him, and I found the pet name had grown on me. Reaching out his hand, he twisted it into a fist and the vampire choked on his next breath. We watched from our spot a few metres away until his eyelids fluttered, consciousness leaving him. Nolan released his grip on the magic before he was out completely, and he sucked in a heaving breath.
His scent was tinged sour with his fear, his eyes wide and darting between all of us. He’d thought Amabella and her hallucinations were the worst that could happen to him here. The poor man was about to find out he was very wrong.
“What next?” Nolan asked, glancing down at the torture kit and the scalpel he held in his hand. “More of my magic, or will we be moving onto more bloody methods?”
“I think the best approach is to alternate. Intense physical pain followed by the inability to breathe, continued by more physical pain. Above all else, I want him to stay conscious. Has he been fed since we brought him here?”
Nolan shook his head.
“Perfect.”
I grabbed the scalpel from him and a small cup from my kit. When I sliced a gash in my arm and dribbled blood into the cup, both men hissed, but knew better than to stop me. Although I could heal my wound with a simple spell, I held my wrist out to Nolan when I had the blood I needed. He grabbed it and licked it closed, cleaning up the streak of blood with his tongue while letting out little moans. I pulled back and he blinked a few times, as if unsure of what he’d just done.
It was his first time tasting my blood, but wouldn’t be the last.
