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“Are you back?” Ben asks tensely from the side.

“You did whammy, my wife,” Kimi calmly inserts.

“Was it the hexes?” I ask and look over at Mal. He’s still gagged, and I grunt in frustration. I let go of Peacemaker before I half stand, painfully lean across the table, and rip the cloth off.

I’m not sure what I was expecting. It’s just fabric, but it peels away painfully, causing Mal to snarl at me while I gape at him in surprise.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think it would hurt,” I draw back from him quickly, gasping and sitting down. The pain of my weight on my butt is nauseating.

The offending piece is clinging to my fingertips like it’s backed by superglue. I try to shake it free with no success.

“She’s back,” Ben mutters and wipes a hand down his face.

My hand flops down onto the gun with a wince.

Peacemaker:“Are we just going to gloss over the fact that you completely lost it?”

“Yup. Denial is my friend.”

Peacemaker:“Mitri will have questions.”

“Mitri always has questions!”

King, Mal, and Ben all rear back from me in surprise.

“Oops, that was out loud.”

Peacemaker’s laughter is so loud that I miss what Mal says.

“You want Mitri to question him?” Kimi asks in a deadened tone and glances between King and me.

“No,” I drop my head and glare at the gun. “King, please explain everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah, everything,” I transfer my glare to him and shift the gun in my hand on the table.

King’s eyes track the movement lazily, and he smirks. “You won’t shoot me.”

“Iwon’t,” I let the sentence marinate in his mind for a moment, and his eyes shift to Mitri.

“Don’t look at him, look at me. No more whammies,” I snap, leaning toward him. Peacemaker slides closer to him, too. Without my permission.

Both his eyebrows rise as he slowly looks me over in contemplation. Then he relaxes back against his chair as if sitting on a throne and tilts his head mockingly. “Ask me what you will.”

13. 19:00

King

My would-be executioner watches me warily from across the table as she sizes me up, and I do the same. I keep my body relaxed as my mind spins with different thoughts.

She was tortured. How and when? How old is she? Death doesn’t have a hold on her, so it’s anyone’s guess.

The things I saw in her mind were horrifying. Short flashes of different types of torment in a kaleidoscope of pain and blood. She has suffered immensely.

Much like my sister so long ago. I now have an in-depth view of the things that were done to her.

I force that thought away before it consumes me with old guilt layered over new.