Nemesis - Book 3 of the Hunted series.

Chapter 9 - Ways of getting answers.

We walked for a good half hour, through the soggy ground, the tropical bush, occasional bouts of rain washing down onto us and making us as soggy as the world around us. When Clayton was satisfied he was far enough away he dumped the man on the ground, tore off the man's shirt, and gagged him with it.

"If he wants to talk, he'll make it clear." He decided. "Go stand watch."

Daniella and Savannah moved away. I refused. I crossed my arms and stood there. Not watching, exactly, but still there. Nearby. I rested the video camera on a log, panned it in on the man, and waited.

Clayton blinked at me.

"I'm practising for the Alpha."

He nodded a fraction, told me to keep quiet and not tell Elena what I saw, and got to work.

It was difficult to watch, but at the same time, so damn easy to see. It didn't seem real almost, or was that all the bad video games I'd played from time to time with my nephews? He broke bones, cut things, that same unemotional expression on his face, the indifference to the man still frightening the hell out of me. But the man wasn't a strong person in the face of pain and just the fear of it had him babbling early on.

He was the alpha's younger brother. Worked for him. Amplified his spells. They'd gotten Nick hopping off the plane by having a fake me head into a dark corner as I got naked, so it was like luring a toddler with candy, and had cornered Clayton in the bathroom. The alpha wanted to his body. The ultimate territory invasion. Going into a werewolf's mind and body and forcing it to do things it would never do. Like raping me, for example, something that Clayton wouldn't even consider doing. 

They were both sorcerers. Their father, an old man, had been bitten before he'd conceived them. He ran the show, though he ignored his sons pack, preferring his old life as a sorcerer. Being a werewolf was an inconvenience, not a gift, to the old sorcerer and Jason had followed in his father's footsteps. Or tried to. Aaron had formed a pack of his own out of werewolves he'd found across the world. Jason, the man pretending to be Nick, didn't run with the pack. He stayed with his father. He'd just helped Aaron out. It wasn't his fault. He was always left out of things his brother did, and his father thought he was weak, so he thought he'd prove he was strong by helping Aaron.

Clayton didn't seem pacified by that whine. I had to look away then, as one of the larger bones were broken. He didn't care about his excuses, he wanted to know where Nick and the alpha was. Exact address. No fucking around.

Jason refused to answer, face white with pain, the stench of blood and other fluids still soaking into the rain.

"Tell me," He asked as he gestured me over. "Does Brazil have plastic surgeons?"

"Ye... yes."

"Would you have fucked Anne, pretending to be Nick, even if you knew she didn't want you?"

He flinched as Clayton moved closer with the knife, my smell sinking into his nostrils as I came across, and nodded, his body shaking.

"That's called rape, did you know that?"

Another shaky nod. "I... I... thought it wouldn't matter. So much. A bit of harmless fun. You don't get women that smell like her here."

Rage filled my head, my body, as I stared at him. "You'd rape me because you think I smell good and call it harmless fun?"

"Ye...yeah. I'd be nice to you though. You'd like it. All the other girls do. They like it at the end. I know how to make them feel good."

Clayton handed me the knife. "Here's the deal, kid. You give me an address or I have Anne here show you how she has her harmless fun."