Falling One by One

Author:S.A. McAuley [McAuley, S.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotic Romance Fiction
Publisher: Pride Publishing
Published: 2015-01-26T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

DCR—Haiti

Tiam sat in a shiny new PsychHAg torture chair, likely transported down here by Priyessa for this express purpose because she wouldn’t have trusted DCR equipment. His body was too contorted to fit into the restraints properly, but that hadn’t stopped Priyessa from forcing him into the position anyway. His back was twisted into a sideways V shape, his right leg with knee torqued to the left and foot in the opposite direction. His left leg was straight—in comparison—but bowing in an unnatural angle inward, as if Priyessa had attempted to make it lie flat. Despite the pain he had to be experiencing, Tiam smiled.

I stood in the corner of a room made entirely of stacked stones, covered with a roof of titanalloy castoffs, and watched her test his restraints. The former PsychHAg leader didn’t have any implements besides her hands, her voice, her mouth and her mind. From personal experience I knew that was all she needed to lay waste to what was left of him. Armise stood behind the chair, a thick hand circled around Tiam’s neck as he secured a strap to keep his chin up so that, according to Priyessa, Tiam wouldn’t suffocate on his own blood.

I didn’t care if he did.

“Good morning, Merq,” Tiam said. “Or is it afternoon?”

For a moment I didn’t think twice about him attempting to goad me through fake pleasantries, but then Armise’s hand tightened on Tiam’s throat and I realized that Tiam had spoken in the Mongol dialect of Armise’s village.

Priyessa didn’t look up from her work when she said, “Translate.”

“He’s being hospitable,” I said.

Priyessa laughed—a sound that was entirely too natural and carefree for this situation. She patted Tiam’s cheek. How she could bear to touch him at all I had no idea.

Tiam’s eyes didn’t leave mine when he said, still in Mongol, “I’d rather have you touching me, Merq.”

Armise tightened the strap to the point that it was choking Tiam. Priyessa, like a mother correcting an errant child, reached up and loosened it.

“No killing him yet.” Priyessa took Tiam’s face in her hands, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones. “You will speak in Continental English.”

There was a clouding of Tiam’s eyes and then it was gone. It was enough for me to know that Tiam feared what Priyessa could do to him.

“Maybe I will,” he said in English then smirked. “Maybe I won’t,” he finished in Mongol.

Priyessa looked to me.

I shrugged. “You know as well as I do that wasn’t any language spoken in the States.”

“Then we go for removal of the eyes first. It gives me easy access to his frontal lobe. You already lack inhibitions, PsychHAg Tiam. You won’t miss a thing.”

Tiam swallowed, the heavy strap barely shifting up and down with the movement of his throat. “You lack the basic tools, PsychHAg Niaz.”

Priyessa held out her hand and Armise took his knife out of his sheath and gave it to her. Without a second of hesitation she had flipped the knife in her gnarled fingers,

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