Chapter 5
Damien
“What the hell?”
I spit the words out before I’m fully awake.
Someone’s got a metal knife pressed to my wrists, and I fully expect him to plunge it into me, snapping the veins that could make me bleed out in a second.
Instead, he tugs at the ropes that chafe at my skin, and I realize in that moment that my ankles are already free.
I scramble up, ignoring my limbs protesting in pain, and the cracking noise that tells me I have more than a few broken bones.
Logan.
I breathe a sigh of relief to see him sitting on the ground, his eyes gazing straight in front of him in shock, before the dull pain of his recent betrayal awakens once more in my heart.
I tear my eyes away from him and note that Vincent is also still alive, though lying on the ground, whimpering in pain.
All around us, the guards are either groaning, struggling to remain conscious in spite of their injuries, or dead.
Then I notice that several of them have been fully spared.
Yet instead of trying to stop me from getting up, they’re merely watching me calmly.
Aaron is knocked out, but I’m pretty sure he’s still alive.
In one corner of the room, Gabriel lies on the ground, his left arm blown off. I can tell he’s still breathing, but for the moment he’s stunned.
Good.
He’ll die a terrible death, maimed and bleeding. I could have made him suffer more, but I’m fully aware that I’m not currently master of my own fate.
I turn back around, suddenly wondering who just freed me, and why the surviving guards aren’t trying to subdue us. My heart nearly stops when I see Elias standing in front of me, holding the remnants of the rope in one hand and a knife in the other.
“What the hell,” I say again.
He gestures at us to follow him. I hesitate, though I’m conscious that whatever awaits me with him can’t be worse than our fate if we stay here. Logan is standing now, and he goes over to Vincent, helping him up. Then they follow Elias out before I’ve even made up my own mind.
I go after them, cursing the three of them under my breath.
Elias leads us out through a number of deserted hallways, all made of stone, our steps resounding on the floor in a way that chills me to the bone, in spite of the sticky warmth of the jungle that pervades the place.
It’s like a mausoleum, and I wonder if I’m going to die here, like my pet died in her hole.
But Elias leads us down a flight of stairs to a garage, where a Jeep is parked in wait. He slips in the driver’s seat, and the three of us crowd into the back. I can’t help but sink into the leather seat, my body giving out despite my determination.
“You made this easy for me,” he comments as the engine roars.
He pushes a button on a remote control and a metal wall slides up, letting us out. Elias drives through a bramble of weeds, and I’m uncomfortably aware that even the thick stone walls that encase this place can’t keep out the jungle. It’s all around us, looming darkly, suffocating.
He presses another button, and the gate to the outside rattles open. We leave the compound, the Jeep driving carefully down an uneven dirt path that takes us directly to the heart of the forest.
His phone buzzes then, and he quickly types a message.
Logan chuckles softly. “You had me worried there for a second. Should’ve known you’d planned it all.”
I glare at him. “I didn’t plan this.”
His face blanches, and he turns toward Elias, as though expecting an explanation.
The Angel doesn’t give us one, however. He merely continues to drive, and for a while, the only sounds I hear are those of the cicadas, and the distant growl of an animal.
At last, though, Elias repeats, “You’ve made this very easy for me.”
I take the bait. “What is this?”
“Fucking over Gabriel.” He chortles. “We had a whole plan laid out, but you sneaked a bomb into that Bible. Brilliant, man. Too bad you didn’t charge it enough. He’s not dead.”
“He’s not supposed to be,” I snap. “I wanted him to suffer first.”
Elias laughs louder. “Course you did. I should’ve known. I hesitated to kill him right then and there, but I figured he’d bleed out anyway. Where’d you hide it? The bomb, I mean.”
“In the spine,” I mutter. “Not exactly a bomb, though. It was a tiny uranium bullet that was time sensitive, and…”
I interrupt myself, closing my eyes wearily. I don’t know why I’m explaining this to him.
“Why did you want to kill Gabriel?” questions Logan suspiciously.
Elias clenches his jaw as the Jeep barrels onward.
“I’m not some stupid pawn. He was screwing us over, and I wasn’t about to sit and take it.”
“Screwing you over?” prompts Logan.
“Yeah. He made us believe that the girl—Seraphina—had the nanochip. She took the fall. But the whole time, it was him. She never had it until he planted it in her belongings, after we kidnapped her. We went along with it initially. We believed him. But he pulled the wool on all of us. He wanted to stab us in the back. This whole time, he’s been talking to the Feds, using them as leverage to get more power.
He’s nothing but a rat. He hasn’t a speck of honor.
He was just waiting for the right time to get rid of us.
Luckily, Noel and I got wise to that fact. ”
“Noel,” I say thoughtfully. “How about Aaron?”
He shrugs. “No idea where that guy’s loyalties lie.”
We drive on for a while in silence, as I try to wrap my head around what I’ve just learned. But at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. She took the fall. He didn’t save her.
“Where are we going?” asks Logan cautiously.
“I have a little hideaway,” says Elias. “We’ll be safe there as we plot our next move.”
“Our next move?” echoes Logan.
“Sure. Gabriel is probably dead by now—hopefully—but that doesn’t mean I’m the leader. Angel has always been passed from father to son, and the thousands of people in our employ won’t easily accept a new leader who’s not related by blood. Gabriel doesn’t have a son, which does make things easier…”
“Hold on,” cuts in Logan. “Never heard of you guys before Gabriel came along.”
“Yeah, well, before Gabriel, we were content silently ruling Columbia,” explains Elias.
“The Murillos have been dealing arms and drugs for many generations. But Gabriel is thirsty not only for power, but for fame. He decided to branch out in North America. To befriend the politicians, the tech leaders, the elites of society. To create a respectable front.”
Logan raises an eyebrow. “Like Devil.”
“Yeah, you inspired us,” chortles Elias. “But I guess we’ve far surpassed you by now.”
Logan glances at me, probably expecting to find me seething, but I’m still stuck on the first thing he said.
Our next move.
“Let me get this straight,” I question him drily. “You think we’ll help you take over Angel?”
“Well, fair is fair. I did help you escape.”
I grit my teeth. He didn’t help her escape. And that’s all I care about. But this isn’t the time to say so.
“Not sure what we’ll be able to do for you if you’ve got thousands of employees expecting another Murillo to take over,” I comment.
“Yeah, well, he’s a Murillo, isn’t he?”
Elias jerks his head back toward Vincent, who, despite the fog of pain he’s clearly struggling against, widens his eyes in surprise.
“Me?” he asks feebly.
“Sure. Vincent Murillo, no?”
“You seem to have forgotten that Vincent is in my employ,” I tell him. “I’m not about to let him become the leader of our rivals.”
“Oh yeah?” chuckles Elias. “How would you stop him?”
“I’d kill him.”
My matter-of-fact words seem to make a deep impression. Elias turns a stony face back to the road, while Vincent whimpers behind me.
There’s a long silence, but it’s broken at last by Elias. He seems a lot more cautious than before.
“You forget, I’m not planning to let Vincent lead anything. Noel and I want to be in charge of Angel. Vincent would just be a more palatable front. And I don’t see why Angel and Devil have to remain rivals.”
“Don’t you?” I ask quietly.
Elias fixes his eyes back on the road.
This is why Gabriel was in power, and not you, I think viciously. You’re crazy if you think you can trust me.
At last, he parks in front of a small, tumble-down shack. He gestures for us to get out and opens the creaking door.
As we enter after him, crowding into the tiny main room, he seems suddenly aware that we vastly outnumber him. He keeps his hand nervously on his holster, and I laugh inwardly.
If he thinks that’s going to stop me…
“Well?” says Logan, sinking down on the one rotting couch as Elias sits on the chair opposite him. “What now?”
Elias keeps his eyes glued to me. “We’re just waiting,” he says uncomfortably.
“For what?” snaps Logan. “For your guys to corner us and kill us one by one?”
Elias’ tense features relax into a smirk. “Pretty sure that’s what was already happening when I got you out.”
The twitch of a vein in Logan’s neck tells me he recognizes the truth in Elias’ statement, but he keeps bluffing.
“Keep telling yourself that. You really think Damien planted a bomb without an exit strategy?”
“Yeah,” confirms Elias without a moment’s hesitation. “Doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that your friend has a death wish. Clearly, he didn’t care about dragging you into it, and you—” he points to Logan “—can’t tell me that statement is a surprise to you.”
There’s an uncomfortable silence as Vincent turns his head toward me, as though waiting for me to deny it. But I hold Elias’ gaze, refusing to gratify him with a reply.
“So, what’s your thought process here?” questions Logan bluntly.
“You’re telling me you’re aware you’re dealing with a guy who doesn’t want to live, and another guy who does want to live, but goes along with guy number one regardless, and a third guy who’s apparently a complete idiot.
And that’s the one you want to crown king, except you don’t actually want him to govern. Did I get that right?”
Elias’ grin deepens. “Yep.”
Logan inhales. “And in what world did you think any part of your plan would work out?”
“In this world. In this world, once I get the message I’m waiting for.”
There’s something about the smirk on Elias’ face, and Logan’s sad attempt at bluffing, that’s begun to grate on me.
Elias with those sparkling white teeth that remind me of the stewardess’ mouth, which I was about two seconds away from bashing in yesterday.
I’d like to do the same now, except not with my fist. With a gun aimed right at his smirking face.
I cross the room and stop inches from him.
“What… what do you want?” he asks tersely.
“Get up.”
He gulps. “We’re… we’re just… just waiting for the message.”
“Don’t give a fuck. Get up.”
“I’m pretty sure you will give a fuck. Please…”
Before he can finish his sentence, I’ve grasped him by his shirt collar, and I’m holding him up, his feet dangling a few inches from the ground. He’s tall, but I’m taller, and he doesn’t stand a chance against me. Especially not with the rage that’s coursing through my veins.
“Please…” he begins again.
I grasp the gun from under his belt and point it at his head, marveling at how easy it was to take his power from him.
“Give me one good reason not to kill you right now,” I thunder.
“The message…” he squeaks.
“The message. Right.”
I put my finger on the trigger. He blanches.
“Please… I’m not kidding… I have something to tell you…”
“You have three seconds to spit it out before I decorate these walls with your brain.”
“The… the…”
I can feel him sweating profusely, and beads of moisture slide down his temples.
“Three…” I begin threateningly.
“The message is…”
“Two…”
“Oh God, okay… I’m about to receive it… please wait… the grave… the girl…”
“One…”
“Okay, okay! Seraphina Connor is alive!”