The woman at the workstation popped out of her chair and ran a bottled water and a plastic straw to the room. On-screen, Jed watched as José uncapped the water, stuck the straw into the bottle, and walked over to give the Dark One a drink. After letting the man drink half the bottle, José set the water down on the table and returned to his chair.

“What is your name?” José asked.

“His name is Rodrigo Valencia,” the girl at the workstation said into a microphone. “He is thirty-two years old, Chilean native born in Santiago. He’s employed by PMC Egality, Latin American division.”

“Our name is Chaos,” the man said, staring unblinking at José.

“Not a false statement,” José said, shifting his chair to cross his legs.

“I’m going to take my thumbs and press them through your eyes and into your brain while you scream,” the Dark One said.

“Mmm-hmm . . . You have a lot of rage inside . . .”

“What’s José doing?” Jed whispered in Eli’s ear.

“Talking,” Eli said without a trace of sarcasm.

“But this guy ain’t going to talk. We need to get him in some stress positions and start enhanced or we’re going to be here forever.”

Eli shook his head. “Enhanced doesn’t work with Dark Ones. José is the best I’ve ever seen. Just watch.”

“It’s hot inside—the rage, hmm? Always burning, burning . . . burning . . . ,” José continued.

The Dark One cursed his interrogator with a long stream of obscenities and then writhed against his restraints.

“Does that make you feel better, Rodrigo, when you let the anger out? Does it lessen the pain when you let the beast have its way?”

The Dark One laughed and Jed saw its eyes flash with flame. “You know nothing, Shepherd. I’m going to gouge—”

“My eyes out—with your thumbs. Yes, I know,” José said, cutting the other man off. “Tell me, Rodrigo. What happened on the mountain? How did you do it?”

“That was God’s work—punishment from heaven for sins committed.”

“Is it a new weapon your master developed? How does it work?”

On the monitor, Jed watched the Dark One narrow his gaze at José. “We’re going to find your family, your daughter, and we’re going to ravage her and your wife while you watch.”

Jed shifted his gaze from a monitor fixed on the Dark One to a feed focused on José’s face, but the Shepherd’s expression of confident empathy did not waver or wane in the face of the threat.

“How many wives and daughters have you ravaged, Rodrigo?” José asked.

“Dozens,” the Dark One growled.

José nodded. “Do you hear their screams at night? Do you relive their tears?”

The Dark One’s eyes flashed red and a vulpine smile curled his lips. “I savor those memories—their suffering, their fear.”

“Do you, or is that the beast inside talking, Rodrigo?”

“Stop calling me that!”