Gio eyed the little jar in his brother's hand. It was filled to the brim with pepper that had been blended. “What's that for?”
Emilio shrugged. “Came up with the idea of using it as a send-off gift to our friend here.”
Gio turned his gaze to the friend. It was a miracle he was still breathing— and it was a miracle Marcello had been able to stop himself from killing the man. But the interrogations were done now. There was nothing the man could tell them.
The man, named Dvarik, panted on the floor. “What sort of animals are you?”
“He can still talk,” noted Emilio warily.
“A miracle, I think.” Gio didn't think the man had the strength to take a full breath.
Dvarik ignored them and went on, “Who are you? I have never....” He coughed, spat out blood. “... I have never met you before, yet
