"Your people destroyed Prince Straiphen. They took his Blood. They ransacked his sanctuary. He was a paragon for us! An example to follow!" The Brood reiterated, dumbly, by rote, like a record.
Her head snapped to Longstreet's jibe. Whether because of the mounting pressure or because of the subtle work the Haunt had been putting into the interrogation from the start, she focussed on him. Her eyes didn't blaze so much as smoulder and her lips peeled back as her fangs fell.
"You really think you can take us, Haunt? Your people only succeeded because the ritual didn't work as we were promised and you took us by surprise. In a stand up fight you'd all be toast! Cowards! Go on! I dare you! Go to the Old Maitland Junkyard! See how you fare against us there if you think you got the claws for it. Dirge lives in the sewers beneath your feet and you don't even know it! I have no idea what those Mercy Seat fucks are doing but they are worming their way into North Sacramento!"
Up in the warehouse proper, the sounds of the vehicles grew steadily closer. Those with heightened hearing could make the sounds out now: faint but growing louder and louder.
The Brood was, apparently, oblivious, shaking her chains.
"So now what you gonna do, huh? We got you sealed up on the south and the north. Gregor to his Brood and went into Roseville. We will hear of their victory soon enough! We are squeezing you out and you don't even know it! You may have taken out Ascendant and the ritual crap was a failure but thats okay! We have a Therion coming!"
The words flowed. Longstreet's work setting up the interrogation was paying off. And everyone else was playing their part.
Julia of the Brood was laughing now.