"Did they put every part back under the hood, Valkyrie?"
"Nice piercings."
"Surgical steel's your color."
Both all ies and enemies had witnessed her at her lowest. Even the ones who hadn't seen her still knew how intensely she'd reacted. As Natalya had told her, "You were like a nuclear reactor. Your lightning and thunder shook the building."
Regin had yearned to be strong, had been resolved. Which was why her reactions had stunned her.
After a thousand years of knowing herself, suddenly she'd been altered.
In that operating room, she'd behaved in ways she'd never anticipated. Like a stranger might. Not like a stalwart Valkyrie would.
"Chase promised me I would beg," Regin muttered. "He was ... right." A Valkyrie, begging mortals for mercy. Shame scalded her.
"The magister was there?"
"He ordered it but didn't have the stones to show. Fegley was there smirking. Dixon, of course." Regin would never forget the doctor's eyes behind those freakish glasses-studious and calm as she'd probed and sawed. There was no hate, no patent sense of righteousness.
Because Dixon truly believed Regin was no more than an animal to be utilized in the pursuit of science.
In the background, her fel ow surgeons had carried on a casual conversation as Regin had screamed in agony. ...
When she shuddered, Natalya laid her hand on Regin's shoulder. "There's one thing that'l make you feel better-and strike fear in the hearts of your enemies once more."
This demeaning ordeal wasn't merely an ego check. Anytime a Lorean was perceived as weak, others cal ed open season. If Regin ever did escape this place, she'd be endangered from this defeat. "And what would that be?"
"A trophy. Taken from Chase's body and carried on your person. Like a fashion accessory. I'm going to own a memento from Volos before I die."
Despite her pain, Regin grew curious. "What did he do to you?"
"He tortured me for a couple of years, mainly as court entertainment. Then I was largely forgotten in his vile dungeon for about six years. Until his nephew visited."
"The one you kil ed."
"Correct." In a faraway voice, Natalya said, "Every night in that cel , I sat plotting revenge. With every rat I caught and ate raw for sustenance, with every lash of a barbed whip, I only grew harder, losing myself in fantasies of kil ing Volos." Black veins forked out across her irises. "And before I destroy him, I'm going to tell him to send his nephew my regards. I can see it playing out so clearly in my mind."
"We've got to escape this place first. And I'm not feeling particularly bul ish about our odds right now."
"You're feeling downtrodden because you've been dwel ing on what Chase has done to you. Instead you should think about what he'l soon surrender to you. Come, Regin, tell me. How would you kil him?"
Regin gritted her teeth and sat up. "A sword stroke from his gul et down to his bal s. It'd be just deep
enough to kil him, but not outright. There'd be enough time for realization and horror to set in. Naturally."
"Natural y. And Fegley?"
"Cut off the tool's tool. Then nick his femoral artery."
"For Dixon?"
Regin was liking this game. "I'd force her to swal ow razor blades. Let them slice her body open from the inside."
"Now you're talking! That notorious Valkyrie pride is surfacing-I can see it. Think of it, Regin.
Retribution is within reach for both of us. Let's make a pact to help each other get our revenge."
"I'm in." Regin swiped her sleeve over her eyes. "Hey, Natalya?"
"Yes?"
"I'm real y glad we had this talk."
Chapter THIRTY
Hours later, Declan conceded defeat with Slaine. But only temporarily. Though the demon despised Carrow the witch for luring him into the Order's clutches, Slaine still wanted her, even believed she was his mate.
I'll use that. Threaten the life of a male's woman, and he would do anything, say anything.
Pitiable, he told himself, even as he feared what he'd do if someone had a blade at Regin's throat. Out in the corridor, he again noticed that Dixon wouldn't meet his eyes, even turned to avoid him. Farther along, he came upon a smirking Fegley, rapping his nightstick against his palm.
Vincente was nowhere to be found, though he'd obviously needed to talk to him. Disquiet settled over Declan as he strode to his quarters.
Back at his console, he pulled up Regin's cel . She was curled up on the bottom bunk, her back to the camera. Her fey cel mate was pacing.
A knock sounded at his door. After a short pause, Webb entered. "Better luck next time with Slaine, son." His tone was odd, his expression almost ... guilty.
Now Webb was acting strange? Gotta cut back on the medicine. Paranoia had him by the throat.
"I need to take the vampire's ring off-island for more study," Webb said. "And transfer a prisoner as well. Unfortunately, I must leave tonight before the storm hits."
Declan was only half-listening, keeping the monitor in the corner of his vision. Was Regin's skin dim?
"The ring's in my safe."
"I've col ected it already."
"Which prisoner are you transferring?"
Just as Webb said, "The one you're no doubt watching," Regin turned on the bed-revealing a line of staples below the hem of her shirt.
Vivisection.
The room spun. "What ... the Valkyrie was ..."
"Examined? Yes, while you were resting today. I'd hoped to have her shipped out before you finished with the demon." Then he exhaled. "You and those monitors. Never could hide anything from you. well, not much, anyway."
Declan shot to his feet. "No. She wasn't scheduled," he said slowly. "Some other creature was."
"I decided to have her examined before her transfer."
Sagging against the console, Declan rewound the feed of the O/R to this morning. Regin had just awakened strapped to the operating table.
He could do nothing but watch in horror, his heartbeat roaring in his ears, his mind threatening to break once and for all .
This had been done by Declan's order hundreds of times before, but he'd never truly understood. ...As they'd begun slicing her skin open-without anesthesia-she'd shrieked, her body twisting in the restraints. Tears had leaked from her stunned eyes. Again and again, thunder had boomed, shaking the camera.
She'd felt everything.
When they'd cracked open her rib cage, Declan clutched the edge of the console, crushing the wood to splinters. Never had he felt so sickened. Not even the night his entire family had been murdered.