As I stood at the doorway of the dimly lit dungeon, the air thick with the stench of damp stone, blood, piss and fear. My brother, Christian, washed his hand, his face pale and eyes darkened by anger. He wiped his hands on a cloth, as he turned to me and shook his head.
We'd been working on the prisoners since sunrise, but they'd told us nothing.
''He knows nothing,'' Kit said, frustration edging his voice. ''He gave the same story as the others, they were hired by Emory, and only knew about a drop off location, but I doubt Emory would still be waiting. We should just kill them. They're useless.''
''Well, we can deal with it tomorrow.'' I rubbed my face. I was exhausted, I'd only gotten about three hours of sleep before coming back to the dungeons. ''We have to get ready for the Goddes
