Tempt the Devil (The Devil of Ponong series #3) (30 page)

“Normally, I wouldn’t waste my time chatting with you.
That’s for stage villains. But I want you to suffer as much as possible, so
that means letting you know what’s coming.”

A young, small soldier walked into his line of vision. Why
didn’t the lad do something to help him?

“When you sent your dogs to attack PhaJut’s brothel and
the Pink Orchid, I wasn’t unduly worried. Militia dirt have been swaggering
through the Quarter of Delights since long before you came here. Cleaning up
after your sort is the cost of doing business. But then you had had my
lieutenants murdered. That got my attention.”

Hurust recoiled as he heard her voice coming from the
soldier. Where had she found a uniform? How had she turned Thampurian?

Her Thampurian eyes rose, as if rolling back into her
head, but underneath were snake’s eyes. His fingernails scrapped the board as
he tried to dig through them.

“Killing my people was a foolish mistake, Colonel. They’re
valuable. You aren’t.”

The iron band around his forehead stopped him from shaking
his head. He struggled against the shackles. His heart beat fast and hard
against his ribs. Her kind didn’t have a soul. She’d do terrible things to him
no civilized man would think of.

She watched him writhe with a wry smile. There was no pity
in her. He’d heard so many stories, but none of them had prepared him for the
pure evil before him.

“I understand business. I built my organization by
eliminating my competition. Did you think for a moment that I’d let you get
away with killing my people so you could take over the black lotus trade? When
you hanged all the werewolves, you thought you were free to resume your trade
– yes, I know that’s why you were exiled from Thampur – but you
only removed the lowest level of distribution. The werewolves were unimportant
and easily replaced. When you move into someone’s territory, you take out the
brains of the operation, not the brawn. Do you know what galls me? I mean,
other than the waste caused by your excessive stupidity? All this sanctimonious
talk of racial purity to get these moronic soldiers to do your dirty work. It’s
ear poison. It seeps into the rest of the filth you Thampurians brought to this
island, like a disease. It ruins lives in small ways and big ways you’re far
too stupid to realize.”

Her eyebrow arched. “But you’re going to get a glimpse of
it very soon.”

Enraged, he shook.

“Well, this has been a lovely chat, Colonel, but as I told
you, it bores me. You bore me. To death.”

She dragged the small table Cuulon sat behind to the
torture board and climbed up on it. She knelt gracefully and leaned close to
his face. He tried to shrink away, but couldn’t.

QuiTai pulled a long gold necklace from inside her blouse
and unscrewed the top of the vial hanging from it. Her little finger pressed
into it and came out with a daub of black lotus tar. He tightly closed his eyes
as she reached for his face.

She daubed the black lotus into the corners of his eyes.
Against his will, his eyelids relaxed. She forced his upper and lower lids wide
apart.

He tried to blink as her finger came close to his eye
again, but she had complete control over him. A small lens balanced on the tip
of her finger. He screamed as her finger neared, and then touched, his eyeball.
His legs tried to kick, but the unyielding shackles allowed him only to twitch.

The uncomfortable lens made him blink rapidly as she
released his eyelid.

“Have you never worn a costume lens before? They’re a bit
scratchy, but I assure you that you can’t blink them away.” She put one in his
other eye.

QuiTai hopped off the table. Hands clasped behind her
back, she perused the grid of torture devices as she had before, only this time
her tiny feet moved at a purposeful pace. “Aha! That’s what I was looking for.”

She stood on the tips of her toes and reached for one of
the metal gags. Testing the weight of it in her hand, she came back to him and
climbed back onto the table. She paid no attention to him as she arranged items
around her within easy reach.

“Open wide.” She gave him a stern look. “Now really, do
you think you’re going to be able to stop me?”

He’d be damned if he’d help her torture him. He clamped
his mouth shut.

“I was hoping you’d do that.” Her hand shot out and
gripped his nose.

His throat clenched. He tried to twist away but couldn’t.

“How heavy do your lungs feel? What would you pay for one
deep breath?” She leaned over to pick up the metal gag and examine it.

One little gasp of air. Just one. He didn’t need to open
his mouth that much. She wasn’t looking; he could do it before she
realized–

Her gaze locked on his. Slowly, the corner of her mouth
curved.

His face flooded with heat as his lungs burned. So this
was what it was like to drown. His body fought him. His lungs demanded fresh
air. If only he could push her away!

He couldn’t hold out any longer. If only he could take a
quick breath when she didn’t expect it. He tried to breathe through his nose,
but she had it pinched so tight that his ears popped from the pressure.

She watched him closely as she held the bar against his
lips. Her eyes glowed as she watched him struggle.

Desperate for air, Hurust gasped in a breath.

She shoved the bar into his mouth. It was like a horse’s
bit. Sharp pains jolted through his teeth as it banged against them. His lips
felt like they would rip. She pushed it so far back he began to retch. He’d
used it on prisoners before; the idea that Ponongese tongues had touched the
bar made him nauseous.

“Why?” he tried to ask as his tongue pressed against the
bar. The taste of rusty metal filled his mouth. Drool spilled from his lips.

“I went to so much trouble, and considerable risk, to
arrange our meeting today. Imagine how crushed I was that you refused to visit
me. Everyone else trooped in to pay their respects, but you? No.” She pressed
the back of her hand against her forehead. “Absolutely crushed.”

His strained his eyes trying to see if Cuulon were coming
around. If they’d both been dosed at the same time, why wasn’t Cuulon coming
out of dream?

Her gaze followed his. “Don’t worry about him. I gave him
a double dose.”

He reluctantly looked into her eyes as her fingertips
lifted his chin.

“I put a lot of thought into this,” she cooed. “Originally,
I expected to mutilate and torture you in the exact same way your men killed my
lieutenants.”

She wouldn’t. He was a Thampurian, a sentient being, not
an animal! She was a monster.

“But then I decided to give myself a little gift. Your
death would be an amusement, something to make me chuckle fondly when I look
back on this afternoon. Would you like to know what makes me laugh, Colonel?”

She was so cold. He’d never seen anything as terrifying.
It wasn’t even as if she were angry. Tears streamed down his face. He tried to
shake his head. He’d rather die than know what made such an alien creature
laugh. She was the devil himself. A demon.

“I’m going to feed you a delicious dish of pure irony. I
don’t think it will agree with you. You could say you’ll be forced to choke it
down.”

QuiTai pushed something into his mouth. Thinking it was
poison, he tried to spit it out. His front teeth felt weird, as if something were
compressing them. It was uncomfortable enough, but the pressure made him
squirm.

“A low tolerance for pain, I see.” She clicked her tongue
and slowly shook her head as if scolding him. “That’s unfortunate. For you. Oh,
stop blubbering. It’s a set of costume fangs. We have to give the cement time
to set.”

She kept the pressure on the ill-fitting caps for a while
longer. Her gaze traveled over the torture chamber as if she were bored, or
possibly searching for something to use on him. He winced as he envisioned the
tools in her hands.

She gave the teeth a slight tug. “There. The cement is
set.”

QuiTai hopped off the table and pulled it back into place
near Cuulon. She stepped back, eyed it, and then moved it a few more inches.
Satisfied, she turned back to Hurust.

“So that your death won’t be a complete waste, I decided
to give you a unique honor of historical importance. You, Colonel Hurust, will
be the last Ponongese to be executed on this island without the benefit of a
trial.”

She was mad. Evil, and insane. He was so terrified he
could hardly breathe.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking you aren’t
Ponongese. Duly noted, but costume lenses and fangs are good enough to pass
quick inspection. Change your clothes for a sarong and blouse, and ta-da! Instant
Ponongese.”

He strained to look down. He was dressed in native
clothes. How long had he been insensate? Had she seen him naked?

Hurust quaked. There was no escaping her. He prayed to the
Goddess of Mercy as he turned his eyes to the ceiling. He didn’t believe in
miracles, but he hoped for one from the depths of his soul.

“Well, this has been amusing, but Governor Zul has
probably solved Turyat’s murder by now and is no doubt racing here to save me
from your clutches, so I don’t dare waste a moment. I’d hate for him to ruin my
fun.” She put her hands on her hips. “I do wish you weren’t so tall. Dragging
you up those stairs is going to be a pain.”

QuiTai’s fangs sprang forward. She advanced on him. Snot
and tears streamed down his face. He begged for his life, but his tongue couldn’t
get around the metal bar.

She milked a drop of her venom from her fang and smeared
it on his tongue. He screamed and writhed until his mouth went numb.

~ ~ ~

Hurust clutched the cell bars to hold himself up. He’d
made QuiTai fight every inch to get him out of the torture chamber. He’d
flopped on the ground and refused to move. She’d dragged him this far, but her
hair was sticking to her face and she gasped deep breaths.

“Keep going. At this rate, it will take all day to get
outside, and I don’t have that kind of time, so move,” she said.

He shook his head.

She showed him her palm. An ugly welt crossed it. “Sea
wasp sting. It nearly killed me. Since then, I’ve wanted to experiment with
their stingers to see how much a person could tolerate, but there aren’t that
many people I hate enough to torture that way.”

The vial that hung from her second necklace was a bit
larger than the one for black lotus.

“Must be very careful. I spilled a drop of this on my foot
a couple weeks ago.” She gingerly unscrewed the top. “As you can imagine, I
have no desire to go through that again. Now, Colonel, the stairs, or shall we
find out how high you can scream?” She cast a meaningful glance at his
trousers.

She wouldn’t dare.

She would. She had no sense of decency.

He’d show her how a Thampurian went to his death. He
fumbled toward the stairs. She threatened him again to make him climb.

Half way up the winding stone staircase, he staggered. He
pretended to try to keep going so she wouldn’t use the sea wasp on him.

Her eyes narrowed. She took out the vial. “I know what you’re
thinking. So here’s incentive to stop pretending.”

A drop fell on the back of his hand. He’d never felt such
pain before. His heart raced as sweat poured down his face. Her face twisted in
agony too. Of course. She’d put her venom on his tongue. Hurust grinned
sloppily and extended his hand. He motioned for her to go ahead and pour more
on him.

“Calling my bluff! Nicely played. Alas, we’re on a tight
schedule. Can I assume that you’re not going to take my threats seriously now?
Fine.” She stooped down and put his arm across her shoulder. Between pressing
him against the wall and lifting, she got him to his feet. With each step, he
sagged a bit more.

At the guard’s table, she propped him up in a chair while
she caught her breath. “I really, really wish I could have caught you in
Levapur instead of having to come here. This is a ridiculous amount of work to
kill a sniveling
dirt Thampurian
.”

If only he could find a way to signal his men. Maybe if he
tapped out a message in code? He couldn’t move his arms well, and his hands
felt clumsy, but he thought if he could touch a wall, he might be able to do
it. His spirits caught this slim chance and soared with it.

“You obviously know how know how my venom works. I can
feel your fear and your pain. So after I convince the soldiers that you showed
me your fangs–” QuiTai flicked the tip of his prosthetic fangs with her
finger. “They’re going to drag you up to the ramparts, put a noose around your
neck, and shove you off. No trial. No second thoughts. They won’t even look
closely at your face, because you’re just a snake as far as they’re concerned.
But the worst part is going to be the end of the fall, because I will be right
there with you through the whole thing. I’ll feel your neck snap, unless these
idiots mess up and you slowly suffocate at the end of the rope. It will be
awful for me, worse than the time the werewolves were torn limb from limb in
the marketplace. Back then I had the luxury of escaping into dream. This time I
won’t. But you know what? I look forward to suffering with you. I hope it lasts
and lasts.”

She knelt
before him and lifted his hand to her mouth. He couldn’t watch as her head
bowed like a penitent wife begging his forgiveness. She kissed each of his
fingertips before piercing them with her fangs. As the numbness spread, his
hope ebbed.

The
dungeon door opened. A soldier stuck his head inside. He looked from Hurust to
QuiTai. “What’s going on here?”

QuiTai
grinned up at Hurust. Her inner eyelids snapped down, turning her eyes
Thampurian. She staggered to her feet and clutched the table. “Fucking snake
attacked me.” Her proper Thampurian slipped into the guttural tones of a
marshlander.