Chapter Thirty-Nine
Marcus
My hands are steady smoothing the hem of my top down the waistband of my trousers. My nerves are calm.
Deep down, I’m aware that I should be hesitant. I’m about to come face to face with the man responsible for the death of my children and my brother. There will be no room for error once I open those doors.
It should worry me.
I should request backup from the crew I sent off after my boys were murdered.
But it’s not fear I feel as I hit the final step and round to face the entrance.
It’s not even curiosity. I study the barricade with a mixture of resignation and annoyance.
A situation that requires attention I don’t have time for; I may not have been there when Catherine went into labor, but I have a strong sense that Lenora is or will be very soon.
I need to find a doctor. I need to figure out what to do next.
I don’t have time for whatever nonsense has Julen Duval darkening my doorstep.
Still, I stalk the distance and wrench the door wide without pause.
Julen Duval is a man who has lived well all his life.
Pampered and indulged. Given the world on a silver platter that he has carelessly dented.
In the striped light of early light filtered through heavy clouds, he stands eye level with eyes the dark brown of constipated shit and a hairline trying desperately to escape his pudgy face.
Pockmarks cut into swollen cheeks, competing against the age spots blotching a complexion a shade south of sour milk.
But no gun.
I think a deep part of me had expected him to be cocked and ready to blow my brains out. But his hands are empty inside his leather gloves.
“Usher,” he grinds out from between teeth too white and straight to be real.
“Duval, are you lost?” I counter.
“I’m looking for my nephews,” he states with a sureness that has me lifting my eyebrows.
“The police mentioned that they were missing,” I say, not with triumph or arrogance. A matter of fact that says nothing. “Are you going door-to-door searching for them? That’s nice of you.”
His response is a slow uncurling of white breath coiling from his nostrils.
“Let’s cut the bullshit. I know you have them.”
“I don’t, but even if I knew where they were, why would I give them back after you had them kill my sons?”
Julen is silent long enough that we both know I’m lying. Only difference is, he can’t prove it.
“Did you kill my brother?” he asks instead.
“I didn’t,” I answer without missing a beat.
His shit-brown eyes narrow. “Don’t fuck with me, Usher. You have no one left, except your pretty, little niece. It would be a shame—”
“Careful,” I cut him off smoothly. “You are at my home, and you are alone. It would be unwise to threaten me.”
“Who says I’m alone?” he taunts. “I could have this place surrounded by men waiting for my orders to charge in and burn this shithole to the ground—”
“Do it.” I stare into the dark pits of his soul without blinking. “Call them. Burn it all.”
It scares me that I mean it.
The demon will protect Lenora. I have no doubt in my mind. And this place will collapse into ashes. The charred ruins of the Usher bloodline. No more deaths. No more chaos. It would all end and I would finally be free.
“You crazy fuck,” he mumbles.
And I’m mildly amused by the apprehension in his eyes.
“What’s wrong? You came all this way to try and find your worthless, murdering nephews, didn’t you? Or are you here for a different reason?”
A thick, purple tongue wiggles across the cracked curve of his bottom lip. A nervous tick I’m not sure he knows he has.
“What are you up to, Usher? I know you’re behind all this.”
I raise a brow. “Prove it.”
Splotches of crimson rise beneath his sour complexion.
I find it almost amusing that I have had nothing to do with any of the murders, yet everyone keeps accusing me of them.
What isn’t amusing is the gun he pulls from inside his coat and aims between my eyes. His hand is remarkably steady.
“Where are August and Berny? You take me to them or so God help me, I will put a hole through your skull before I track down your precious niece and let my men have their fun with her.”
His latter statement has me glancing past the giant, black hole of the gun’s barrel to the man staring down the length of it with steely determination.
He’s not bluffing.
There is rigid fortitude in his veins. The precise certainty of a man willing to burn the world down to get what he wants.
Part of me understands.
I would do the same — more — for Lenora. Hell, aren’t I putting up with a pain in the ass demon for her?
But this is different.
The worry, the fact that he is here — alone…
I tuck it away. I can’t risk getting killed and leaving this asshole alone with Lenora. Demon or not. She needs me and I won’t leave her like this.
“Fine,” I state simply.
The first show of surprise comes in a rapid blink like he hadn’t expected me to comply.
Without waiting for him, I turn on my heels and start down the corridor. My shoes clip on marble in a steady beat that muffles his ambling shuffle over my shoulder.
“No funny business,” he warns. “I see any bullshit and I’ll paint these walls with your brain.”
I roll my eyes but say nothing as I continue through the labyrinth. Julen seems content following, until stone turns to soggy carpet. His exclamation of outrage is almost amusing.
“What the hell is wrong with this place? Don’t you know mold kills?”
“There are worse things that kill faster,” I remark, not really sure what I mean, but it sounds correct.
“Sick fuck,” I hear him gripe. “Where the fuck are you taking me?”
“You wanted to see where your nephews are,” I remind him.
I keep my strides even. Unhurried. I’m not sure what I’m going to do once we get to where we’re going, but at least if I die, he will have no idea how to get back and hopefully he’ll get lost and die. Or the demon will eat him.
“Did you always know they were your sons?” I blurt as we round a narrow bend.
“What are you talking about?” he snaps a little too harshly.
I steal a peek at him from over my shoulder. “Augustus and Bernard. You were sleeping with Sarai, weren’t you? Did your brother know his sons weren’t his?”
The gun is back in my face, and I think I deserve it.
“Who the hell told you that? Who were you talking to?”
I shake my head. “You did,” I lie, but can’t exactly tell him I overheard Sarai talking on the phone, telling her friends about her affair with her brother-in-law.
“By coming here looking for them. You could have sent your men, but you came because you were concerned. I get that you could really care about your nephews, but something tells me that isn’t the case. ”
“Shut your mouth.” The barrel stabs into my shoulder blade hard enough to send cobwebs of pain exploding down my arm. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. They were family. Their dad would want me to look after them.”
“Sure,” I mutter. “It’s not like I was going to tell your wife. Just making conversation.”
“Well, keep your damn mouth shut. Nobody asked you.”
I agree.
No one asked me and I don’t even know why I bothered to ask. It’s none of my business. I guess I was just curious.
We arrive at the top of the stairs before the long corridor of slumbering angels. I can feel Julen’s unease as he stares down at their solemn expressions shrouded by shadows and a light that shouldn’t exist.
“What the fuck is this place?” he growls. “What sick shit are you into, Usher?”
I don’t bother telling him that I also had no idea this place existed a week ago, but we’re already so close and I just want to return to Lenora.
She’s been alone with that demon far too long and I don’t trust that fucker.
Not because I think he’s going to hurt her.
I saw him when he thought she was in danger and couldn’t reach her.
He may not understand the emotions he’s feeling, but I know a man in love when I see one.
I saw it in Eliah’s face.
Ames’s.
Mine when I look in the mirror.
Lenora is a steep row of stairs in the dark. A man can’t help falling deeply in love with all that she is. So, I can’t even blame him.
Julen huddles against my back as we approach the curtains. So close I can smell his unwashed body brushing against my shoulder.
I get it.
The angels are terrifying. It’s unclear if they’re warning people away or blessing them forward. Regardless, their absolute stillness is haunting in a way that makes my skin crawl no matter how often I pass them.
At the velvet drapes, I push inside and pause to wait for my companion to follow.
After having been down here a few times with Lenora, I have suspected that no one sees the chamber the same way.
It’s filthy and dingy from my perspective, but Lenora finds it beautiful.
I’m curious how Julen Duval sees it when he shoves through the curtains and freezes.
His dark eyes widen as they sweep along the stone and dust. His gaze lingers on the filthy altar before drifting up to the black hole in the wall.
“What the actual fuck is this…?”
“Not sure,” I answer honestly.
The weapon in his hand rattles as it wavers in his grasp for the first time. I pretend not to notice as I resume my strides along the path to the platform containing the swollen lump of wood at its helm.
“Destroy the box.”
The voice that came out of Lenora echoes through my thoughts, interrupting this crucial moment.
The box.