D R O W N
Sweat rolled down Belle's forehead, marrying with the drops of water that had been splashed against her from the man whose head she was currently holding. The veins on her arm were present as her muscles flexed; he was struggling with all his might to force his head back out of the ice cold tub that she thrust him into. Her dark brown eyes weren't focused on him, though - as an Arun, she was automatically stronger then
any human, and even some shifters, and this situation was no different. No, she was waiting for a cue to let up.
It finally came when the other woman present nodded, ever so slightly, indicating that she could pull him out.
"So,
Rick," she said, her Australian voice echoing in the otherwise empty storage container that they'd trapped him in, "do you feel like talking now? Hm?" She looked from the woman, Noelani Jordan, back down to the man, who was gasping and sputtering for air.
"I don't know anything!" he protested.
"Sure you don't," she purred. "But tell me,
Rick, if that's true, then why did those men we went after give us
your name? And your location? If you don't know anything, why were they so eager to hand you over?" She raised her eyebrows, obviously expecting an answer. It was terrifying how calm she was, how easily she spoke to him, the cadences in her speech only suggesting a mild interest in the situation at hand. She could have just as easily been sitting poolside having the conversation with a friend next to her for the total lack of volume to her voice. She almost sounded... friendly.
But the way she kept repeating his name, the way she emphasized it every so slightly? That let him know that she wasn't fucking around.
"I'd probably tell her, if I were you, Ricky-boy," Noelani suggested.
The man shifted his road-mapped and bleary eyes to the other individual; tall, slender, almost slight if one could describe her in a word. She seemed
totally disinterested in the situation at hand, and was currently leaning against the wall of the cold container, picking dirt from beneath her short fingernails with a wickedly sharp folding knife. He had no idea that the woman from whom his torturer was taking her lead was the forerunner for the guild that housed the most elite and talented hunters on the planet. And it was his lack of knowledge that ultimately caused him to fuck up.
"Fuck you, I don't know jack!" he spat angrily, unable to stop his teeth from chattering. Spittle ran down his face, and he pressed his bluish lips together, inhaling sharply through his nose. "You fuckin' crazy bitches! This is torture! This is illegal!"
"So is giving bad information to a hunter,
Rick," Noelani said, and only then did she actually meet his eyes.
He swallowed hard, realizing that these women were on to him.
"Okay, I think that's enough breathing. Back in you go," Belle said. That was all the warning he had before he felt his face connect with the bottom of the basin. He hadn't had time to catch a breath, and water shot up his nose as blood rushed out. He saw a tooth float by him as he began to inhale water, and he struggled with all of his being to try and get back out of the water - but it was no use.
Then, suddenly, he had air again, and after he was done choking all of the water back up, he knew that it was time to talk. "Okay!" he yelled, feeling the grip that Belle had on him tensing as she prepared to shove him back in again. "Okay... I'll talk."
"There's a good lad," she cooed. "Now, tell us - who told you to give the bad info?"
"It was a vampire," he said weakly. "He said - he said he'd kill my family if I didn't feed him the bad story. I didn't want to, but - my family!"
He was trying to appeal to their better senses, hoping that they had some morals at all when it came to such dire situations as those, but when he saw Noelani roll her eyes and flick her knife closed, he knew that it was a lost fight. He was utterly shocked, however, when she nodded to Belle.
"Okay," she said softly, sighing. "Okay, I understand. What was his name? That's all I need, Ricky, just a name," she assured him.
"And you'll let me go?" he asked.
"And I'll let you go," she responded.
"Malcolm," he said. "Malcolm Carrow." He paused. "So can I go?"
"Yeah, Rick. You can go," Noelani said.
But when he tried to stand up, he found that Isabelle's grip was still iron-tight against his shoulders. "What the fuck? You said I could go!" he protested.
Noelani had started to turn, and stopped for a split second, tilting her head at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I said
I'd let you go. I didn't say anything about
her," she informed him, nodding to the other hunter.
"No! NO!"
His screams turned into gurgling as Isabelle rammed his head back down into the tub, and this time, she didn't let up. "So,
Carrow, eh?" she asked, her tone cheerful over the splashing at her forearms. "Any ideas on where we find his lot?"
Noelani tapped her finger against her chin for a moment, then nodded. "I think I know a good place to start," she said.
Belle raised her eyebrows, a playful smile crossing her full lips. "It sounds like we're going to have a busy night, then, doesn't it?" Beneath her, the thrashing and struggling slowed gradually, then stopped altogether. She sat back, reaching for a towel that had been tossed onto the ground, and dried her hands lightly. "You want to grab dinner first? I'm feeling a bit peckish after that."
Noelani's brows raised this time, and she grinned. "You like Thai?"
"Oh, I
love Thai," Belle agreed.
H O R R O R
"Onyx doesn't want you," came the cool assessment from the desk. Isabelle stood at attention, feet centered on the two prints before the black piece of wooden furniture, the only thing a testament that she was still paying attention the focus of her dark eyes as they followed the formal dress-down she was receiving.
"Answer me, Level 6," Murphy demanded.
"No, sir," Belle said.
"Why doesn't Onyx want you, Level 6?"
"Because I am a danger to my recruits, sir," she said firmly. "They say I cannot distinguish between training and reality."
The Fae narrowed his blue-grey eyes at the Arun Witch who'd been brought in before him. Noelani had only trusted him to use his judgment with her; Isabelle wouldn't be the first, and she certainly wouldn't be the last, in a long line of "problem children" from the guilds - people ranked high, but almost too brutal to do anything with. In Isabelle's case, things were slightly different, but no less bad.
"Because you were in Midnight?"
"No, sir."
"Because you were in Midnight for fourteen years?"
"No, sir."
"Because all of your ability you learned to use was in Midnight? Because their trainers trained
you for fourteen years?" he shouted, inches from her face.
"NO, SIR," she yelled.
"Then why are we having this problem, Level 6?" he asked, backing away and lowering his voice; the tone was almost conversational.
"Because the recruits they have sent me are too soft, sir!" she barked.
"So you don't think that you have a problem distinguishing from training and reality?"
"No, sir."
"You don't think the horrors that Midnight hath wrought upon almost half of your lifetime negatively affects your ability to do this job?"
"No sir!" she barked again.
"Good," he said.
Isabelle blinked rapidly. "Sir?"
He waved his hand. "At ease, Sweet. This isn't a disciplinary hearing. You're being promoted. I just wanted to shake you up a little bit."
Isabelle relaxed, but only slightly. When he spoke, she tilted her head, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Are you fucking with me?" she demanded.
"Believe me, if I were fuckin' with you, you'd know it," he said. "You're due back at the end of the month. That should give us long enough to figure out where to put you. Welcome to Diamond, Level 6. You officially no longer hold rank, title, or otherwise exist." He grinned, held his hand out, and shook hers firmly.