CHAPTER TWELVE
Maxar
We’d been training Omaera for nearly a week now. The morning following our Mate Bond put an enormous gulf between Drak and Omaera. Not only because she was forced to only torture him, but because he was the last mate to bond with her. He was quieter than ever, and because Zandren refused to let Omaera give Drak any blood to heal—because of what happened the last time—Drak was weak after training and retired to bed early.
The next three days were weapon and combat training only. We taught her how to wield a sword, spar in hand-to-hand combat, how to take down her opponent with minimal force, and how to take down an opponent significantly larger than her. Drak sat out during most of those training sessions, sitting in the corner, sullen and silent.
On day five of us being there, Kenvin said he needed to take a trip to a nearby town for supplies which meant we would have a break for the day.
She’d spent the night with Zandren, so I was aching to see her at breakfast, and nearly swallowed her whole when I kissed her hello.
“Well, good morning to you too,” she said with a laugh, coming up for air.
“I missed you,” I murmured against her neck. “Hearing you with the bear last night was torture. ”
She blinked up at me. “We have a free day and Kenvin said we can use his spare vehicle. How would you feel about a trip to the prison?” She glanced at Drak, who somberly scooped some of the cricket porridge into a bowl for himself. “Drak, do you want to go too?”
He cast his icy-blue gaze at her, but it was tough to predict his reply based on his resting-bat-face.
Zandren pushed a bowl of porridge and blankberry jam into Omaera’s hand. “Eat, Little One. You need your strength after last night.” Then he shot me a cocky, triumphant look.
She rolled her eyes but smiled at the big beast. “Thank you.”
The bear merely grunted.
As hard as I tried not to think about the fact that my parents were not that far away, it was impossible not to. Every time I tried to think of something else, my mind immediately drifted back to them. Would they want to see me? Did people really change? Was evil hereditary? How far did the apple have to fall from the tree? Did my apple fall far enough? How much shit would they flip when they found out my Fated Mate was a half-human, half-demon hybrid? And not only that, but she was also Fated Mates with a vampire and a bear?
The sadistic part of me—which was most of me—secretly hoped they flipped all kinds of shit. Big shit. Little shit. Shiny shit. Matte shit. All the shits that a person could flip, and in very large quantities.
Of course, I was also terrified that I’d show up, and they’d tell the guards they didn’t want to see me. That they’d reject me. It was one thing to reject them because they were homicidal maniacs. But for them to reject their only child just … I knew it’d hurt if it happened.
“Are you going to fucking answer her?” Zandren growled, plunking his bowl of porridge and jelly on the counter before digging in with the spoon like he was a thumbless numbskull.
I blinked and shook my head. “Shit. Sorry, babe. I got caught up in my head.”
Omaera shot Zandren a look. “Be nice, you grumpy old bear.”
All Zandren did was growl and scowl.
My head bobbed in a nod, even though my heart was arguing against it. “I think maybe we should.”
“Drak?” she asked, appealing to the melancholy man in all black. “Do you want to visit your aunt?”
Drak shook his head. “No. But I’ll come to the prison with you.”
Omaera shrugged. “Okay.” Then she faced the bear. “You staying here to sleep, Pooh Bear? Or are you tagging along? Do you have any family members incarcerated in Hell?”
Zandren growled. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, Little One. And especially not to a fucking prison. And no, bears don’t go to prison for their crimes. We handle things ourselves.”
Omaera reared back a little. “And how is that?”
“Trial and execution. If a jury of your peers finds you guilty, you are either exiled or executed, depending on the nature of the crime.”
She blinked a few times. “That seems …”
“Efficient?” he asked.
“I was going to say, very black and white.”
“It’s because no shifters want to come to Hell to deliver the prisoner. So we had to come up with our own system. And jails just deplete resources. Better to either send you on your own without the support of the kingdom and community, or erase you from existence and tell people to forget you.”
“And people call me a psycho,” I murmured, taking a bite of the cricket flour scone I’d all but drenched in blankberry jelly.
The bear met my gaze and growled.
“Should we leave in half an hour?” Omaera asked.
I put my barely eaten scone down on the plate and pushed it away. I was nauseous already, and we still had hours to drive before we reached the prison.
“Fine by me,” Zandren said. “Don’t understand why we’re going in the first place, but whatever.”
Drak merely nodded. I thought we’d reached a bit of a breakthrough the other night after Omaera fainted, but the morning after we mated, the vampire was quieter and more withdrawn than ever.
Thirty minutes later, we piled into the rusty, brown pickup that was covered in a thick coat of red dust. We had water bottles in a small bag on the floor at Omaera’s feet, and some disgusting scones in case we got hungry.
Even though my stomach was in knots, I knew Hell better than the other three, so they designated me as the driver. Omaera sat in the front seat, and the grumpy twins took up the back seat.
Because it was Hell, there was no signage. Signage would have been helpful, and nothing so far—besides Kenvin—in Hell was helpful.
There weren’t any roads beyond the town either. It was just more of that stupid, dry, cracked, hard-packed dirt as far as the eye could see. Only this time, the mountains were behind us, not in front of us.
We had to make sure we were back to town before nightfall, otherwise we’d once again be prey for the monsters that lurked and hunted in the dark, this time with nowhere besides our vehicle to hide. And something told me, the thin and rusty metal piece of shit I was driving was no match for the talons of a bisibra.
No doubt if we did get attacked, the bear would blame me.
We drove for an hour in agonizing silence. Omaera stared out the window at the unvarying landscape of depressing red dirt, and I gripped the steering wheel like it was going to spontaneously fly off at any minute.
My mind raced, my foot was seemingly made of lead, and before I knew it, we were going at a speed I could tell terrified my mate. I knew that it did, because her hand slowly slid to my thigh and she gave me a gentle squeeze. I met her gaze, and she smiled back at me right before an overwhelming sense of calmness filled me.
She was filling my mind with good thoughts. With thoughts of us. With thoughts of our future. With silent reassurance that no matter who my parents might be, deep down, she knew I wasn’t like them and never would be. “Easy,” she said softly. “I can read your emotions now too, Sparky. It’s going to be okay.”
With a swallow, I eased my foot off the accelerator a little and let go of the steering wheel so that my knuckles were no longer white. The bear released a noticeable exhale of relief in the back, but I didn’t bite.
She kept her hand on my thigh, continuing to send peaceful images and silent affirmations to me. With her other hand, however, she was busy playing with the flames she’d recently learned how to conjure. Now that we were mate-bonded, she was slowly developing some of my powers.
Much like I enjoyed letting flames dance along my fingers as a way to entertain but also relax myself, my mate was doing the same.
She gasped. “Look! I’ve finally managed to make the flames rainbow.” She was so freaking pleased with herself. She didn’t need to send any happy thoughts into me. I had them all on my own. Seeing her delighted in such a way brought me unimaginable joy. She’d been working on the rainbow flames for a few days now. Ever since the first time she managed to snap her fingers and get more than just a tiny spark.
The little colorful flames bounced along her knuckles as she wiggled her fingers like she was playing a piano. “This is so freaking cool.”
The bear growled.
She spun in her seat. “Just because I mate-bonded with Maxar doesn’t mean I’m any less bonded with you, Pooh Bear. That’s not how this works. I can feel your jealousy.”
He grunted. “Not jealous.”
Smiling and rolling her eyes, she faced forward again, snapping her fingers again to make a new flame ignite.
I glanced in the rearview mirror at Drak, who simply stared helplessly out the window. He’d retreated so much into his own head. A part of me was worried if he’d ever make it out again. He was a cold-blooded being. So being in Hell wasn’t doing him any good, but everything else going on in his head was fucking with him too.
With her hand on my thigh for the rest of the drive, it was as if she had placed a block in my brain to keep me from worrying about what was going to happen when we arrived at the prison.
Was that even possible?
Maybe for the Demon Queen with two bonded mates. It seemed like anything was possible for Omaera at this point.
With the sun high overhead in the sky trying to boil our brains in our skulls, we reached the enormous gate for Helltower Penitentiary, the massive, black brick building looming behind it like a shadow waiting to consume us all in its darkness.
There was a guard at the gate like there was at any prison. An ugly demon with terribly greasy hair, a wart on his left eyelid, and two fingers missing on his right hand. He sneered at me when I pulled up to his little box and rolled down my window. “Maxar Rane. Here to see Gwinn and Nulon Rane, please.”
“And who are the rest?”
“I’m his mate,” Omaera said, giving my thigh another squeeze while smiling at the guard.
The guard glanced into the back of the truck. “And these two ugly fuckers?”
My lip twitched only slightly.
Zandren growled.
Drak retracted his window, his voice even, almost bored. “Lord Drak Ferrin. Nephew of Quintella Volmark.”
The guard stiffened, and his shoulders went back. The gate opened immediately.
“Thank you very much,” Omaera said, grinning and giving the guard a wave which seemed to make him choke on his own spit in surprise. “Does this mean you’re going to see your aunt?” Omaera asked Drak as we pulled through.
“No,” Drak said softly. “As far as he knows, I’m still part of Howar’s court. You can’t deny a member of the royal court entry. And we’re trying to keep a low profile for you.”
And sharing Zandren’s name wouldn’t have helped since shifters weren’t imprisoned in Hell.
“Will this tell Howar that we’re still alive?” Omaera asked as I found the parking lot and a space.
“There’s no communication between Hell and Earth, babe,” I said. “They’re parallel universes. For all we know, where we’re standing right now on Earth is the bottom of the Pacific Ocean or something.”
She blinked at me.
I put the truck in park and snorted. “Wild, right?”
Her hand left my thigh, and it was like being hit by a bowling ball hurled off a cliff. All the nauseating feelings came back to me. All the concerns. All the worries. All the crippling thoughts.
And she could see it on my face.
“Get out of the truck, Maxar,” she ordered. “Now.”
Nodding, and swaying a little when I first stepped out, I swallowed down the bile crawling up my throat and met her in front of the grill. She took my hand in hers and sent those calming thoughts and feelings back into me.
“The bond is still forming,” she said. “Soon, we won’t need to be connected for me to do this. For now though, don’t let go.”
I wasn’t going to let go for anything. “You’ll have to accompany me to the bathroom and hold it for me while I pee then,” I said, stupidly attempting to lighten the mood.
Her smirk told me she appreciated it. “Fine by me.” Then she lifted up onto her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to my jaw.
The bear growled behind us.
“This way,” I said, pulling her toward the door that, I’m assuming, said Entrance, even though it was in the demon language.
We arrived at the door where yet another ugly demon who sat behind some scratched Plexiglass, glanced at us with unveiled boredom. “Names?”
I cleared my throat. “Maxar Rane, Omaera Playfair, Zandren Thorne, and Drak Ferrin.”
The flick of the guard’s eyes to Drak for half a second was all we got in recognition of royalty. She may not even know who Zandren was, since shifters never came to Hell.
“You’re here to see Gwinn and Nulon Rane, and Quintella Voldrak?”
“Just Gwinn and Nulon,” I corrected.
She grunted and the big metal door clicked open.
Omaera smiled at her. “Thank you.”
The guard reared back in surprise, her glare intensifying.
I led them through, holding on tight to Omaera’s hand as we navigated the narrow, dark corridor, illuminated only by glowing green strips on the floor.
“This isn’t ominous at all,” Omaera murmured. “Why does Hell have to be so melodramatic?”
“Because people hate melodrama,” Zandren said. “And Hell is determined to be the antithesis of all things enjoyable.”
“He’s not wrong,” I murmured.
“Of course I’m not wrong,” Zandren said with indignation. “Just because I’ve never been to Hell before doesn’t mean I don’t know shit. Or can’t infer shit.”
“Pooh Bear,” Omaera said gently, “be nice.”
Zandren’s growl vibrated through the darkness. “Don’t know why we’re even fucking here.” He grunted. “I feel funny.” He grunted a few more times as we continued walking in almost-pitch-blackness.
More grunting, followed by a growl, some feet shuffling, then a terrified whimper before I was suddenly hauled backward by the neck of my shirt, then slammed against the wall, Zandren’s face right in mine. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel his warm, angry breath on my face.
“Where the fuck did you bring us, you fire fucker? I just tried to shift and I couldn’t. What’s going on?” Panic filled his tone as he roared in the hallway.
“Zandren!” Omaera exclaimed. She snapped her fingers a few times, but no flames formed. Her hand in mine tensed. “Maxar, what’s going on? Why can’t I … why do I feel … human?”
“It’s the borromium,” I said calmly. “They’ve made the entire prison out of it. It’s a mineral found only in Hell that blocks all powers. No species can use their powers in here. They’re all rendered as weak as humans.”
“And you didn’t think to tell us this before we entered?” Zandren gritted out, releasing my shirt and backing up.
“You didn’t have to come.”
Omaera’s hand in mine tightened. “I wish you’d told us though.”
I nodded, even though they couldn’t see me. “I’m sorry. I should have. To be honest, it slipped my mind.”
“I’m sure it did,” the bear muttered.
“So, nobody has any powers in here?” Omaera asked.
“Nobody. It’s to keep the guards, guests, and prisoners safe. ”
The bear growled again, but didn’t say anything.
“You okay, Drak?” Omaera asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Very well,” my mate said with a sigh. “Let’s keep going.”
To be perfectly honest, I did forget about the entire prison being made of borromium. There was really no reason for the mineral to be used anywhere else in Hell. Why would the demons want that? And it didn’t make it through the portal to Earth. It disintegrated to dust and did not reassemble on the other side. They’d been trying to make that happen for centuries to no avail.
Light glimmered up ahead and Omaera’s hand squeezed mine. We reached another door, this one just an iron grate with a big bulky lock on the other side. It was something from the Middle Ages.
Another ugly-as-fuck guard appeared on the opposite side, a big keyring loaded with keys jangling from his belt loop like some medieval prison guard. He grunted at us and unlocked the door all while giving us some serious stink-eye.
“Prisoners are in waiting room C,” he said with a heavy lisp, pointing to the left with a gnarled finger.
“Thank you,” Omaera said, flashing him a friendly smile.
Just like the other guard, this one seemed entirely shocked and almost put-out that she was polite.
I held her hand in mine, though now that we were within the prison walls she couldn’t send me any thoughts of calm or reassuring affirmations. Her touch and being there for me was magic enough though. Or at least, it would have to be.
I glanced behind us at the bear, who basically wore a thundercloud as a hat, and the vampire. I had to do a double-take at the vampire though. He looked better than I’d seen him in … ages. Was not having powers actually benefitting him?
We reached waiting room C. The door was closed and there was no window on the door.
I pulled in a deep breath through my nose.
Omaera turned to face me, releasing my hand and gripping me by the arms. “ You’ve got this. Go in with the lowest of low expectations, that way you’re not disappointed. It’s better to be pleasantly surprised than horrendously disappointed.”
I gave her a meek smile, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks, babe.”
“Are we doing this or what?” Zandren asked, his voice rough. “Not being able to shift is giving me the fucking creeps.”
Omaera smirked and glanced back at the bear, reaching for his hand. “I appreciate you coming, Pooh Bear. We’re a team, the four of us, whether you like it or not.”
Zandren’s nostrils flared, but his gaze softened the longer he looked at her and she kept her eyes on him.
Finally, his stony expression cracked and he blinked, nodding just a little. “Just be careful in there, Little One.”
“We will be.”
I sucked in another breath through my nose and reached for the door, turning the knob and pushing it inside.
There were several round tables in the pea-soup-colored room, with metal chairs around them. My parents sat at one table, and a pale woman with long dark hair almost down to her ass and piercing blue eyes sat at another table. They all had handcuffs on, which were attached to bolts in the table.
“Drak,” said the soft, melodic voice of the dark-haired woman who absolutely had to be Quintella Volmark.
He left our little quartet and went over to her. “Aunt Quintella.” Then he bowed before taking a seat.
Omaera paused to watch, which made me halt in my stride.
Drak’s gaze flicked to hers and he gave her only the most subtle of head shakes.
“Maxar,” my mother cooed, her amber eyes—the same shade as mine—not lighting up at all. She sold her soul to the darkness, after all. There would never be a glitter, sparkle, or twinkle in her gaze ever again.
“Mother,” I said stiffly, still standing, still holding Omaera’s hand.
Zandren remained by the door, his arms crossed over his chest like some nightclub bouncer.
“Maxar,” my father said, giving me a curt nod. “It’s been … a while.” While he couldn’t actually sell his soul to the darkness because there was no magic within these walls, it seemed that my father’s long-term incarceration had done nothing but fuel his decision to side with my mother and embrace the dark. There was no sparkle in his chocolate-brown eyes either.
Their gazes shifted over to Omaera and curiosity stole across their features.
“You’ve mated,” my mother said. No delight creased the corners of her eyes. No smile curled the sides of her mouth.
“I have. This is Omaera, my mate.”
“She’s not a mage,” my father said through gritted teeth, his eyes roaming Omaera from head to toe.
Omaera’s hand gripped mine tighter, her smile brittle as she addressed my parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Rane, it’s very nice to meet you.”
My mother sneered. My father looked like he’d just bitten into a raw piece of magsith meat.
“We can’t choose our Fated Mates, Dad,” I said. “You know that just as well as I do.” I looked at my mate and smiled down at her perfect face. “I happen to think the Fates got it right. We’re extremely happy.”
“You can’t be in Hell for a honeymoon,” my mother said, her tone laden with contempt. “Why are you here, Maxar?”
“Omaera has family here. We came to visit them.”
“Who’s the muscle at the door? He has shifter written all over him, even if I can’t smell him.” My father met Zandren’s eyes, and I thought for sure the bear would bare his teeth and growl, but he didn’t. He didn’t so much as flinch.
“He’s mates with that vampire over there,” I said dismissively. “They came together.”
Even though he wasn’t able to shift, there was no doubt about it, Zandren and his impeccable bear hearing heard what I said. The noises of discontent the bear was now making in his corner by the door was exactly the comic relief I needed in such a tense moment.
As much as I knew Omaera was trying to be there for me, I knew her thoughts were also with Drak, who took a seat at the table and spoke softly with his aunt.
“What are you doing with your existence, my son?” my mother asked. “I pray your grandmother is not still alive.”
“She is alive, Mother. Alive and well.”
My mother’s brow merely twitched.
“I would ask if your lengthy incarceration in this …” I glanced around, “ wondrous place has given you time to reflect on your choices, but I’m going to guess that’s a no.”
“It’s given us plenty of time,” she said cooly. “It’s done nothing but reaffirm our decision in the first place. Humans are a scourge, and entirely unnecessary. They are weak and hapless. I am to assume that in the centuries we’ve been here, they still walk the earth like unevolved troglodytes?”
“I’m half human,” Omaera said, her voice stiff, yet clear. Her shoulders were back and her head held high. “My father was a demon. My mother was a human.”
“Impossible,” my mother hissed, her face darkening, pupils dilating. “You’re lying.” She flipped her focus to me. “Your mate is a liar!” Her hands slammed into the metal top of the table and her cheeks flared pink. I had my mother’s coloring as well as her eyes. Tanned skin, dark-red hair. And even though my mother was nearly seven hundred years old, she didn’t look a day over forty.
Omaera lifted one brow, leveling her green gaze at my mom. “Why would I lie?” Then she tapped her chin. “Oh right … because those who deceive, cheat, and hurt immediately believe that’s what everyone else is out to do.” She gripped my arm in her other hand and lifted up onto her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to my tight jaw. “I happen to love your son. With the demon half of me, and the human half of me. His grandmother did a fine job raising him.”
Pride surged through me, warming my chest and making my knees a little weak. Even though she didn’t have her powers, my mate was still miraculously wrapping a cocoon of protection around me. A cocoon of love.
“So you came here to gloat?” my mother asked, still enraged. “To rub it into our faces that your mate is nothing more than a pathetic, disgusting mongrel?”
“I came here with a glimmer of hope that maybe you’d seen the light,” I said with a shrug, only feeling the love from the woman beside me, and not the hate of the people in front of me. “But you’ve got too much darkness within to ever be able to see the light.”
My mother banged her small fists on the table, her long dark-red hair flying wildly around her. “Guard! Get me out! Guard!”
The commotion she caused drew Quintella’s attention away from Drak for just a moment. “Gwinn. Shut up, you loud-mouthed witch!” She pressed her hands to her forehead. “That mage gives me such a headache.”
I snorted.
You and me both, sister.
The door to the waiting room opened and a gnarly-looking guard stepped in, having to duck to enter he was so damned tall.
“I wish to leave,” my mother exclaimed, unable to stand because she was secured to the table by her handcuffs. “I have nothing more to say to my son. Or his …” she shuddered, “mutt of a mate.”
The guard came over, giving Omaera and me a quick glance, but nothing more. He unlocked my mother, then immediately handcuffed her again once she was free of the table. He turned to my father. “You too, Nulon?”
My father shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Nulon!” my mother shouted. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Just go back to the cell, Gwinn. I’ll be there shortly.”
Her eyes went wide with hate at both my father and me. But then she shifted her focus to Omaera, and if my mother had any powers in that room, Omaera would have been in trouble.
Then again, maybe not. My mate was not only a stone-cold fox, but she was the most powerful demon I’d ever met. She could probably lay my mother flat in seconds. In the short time we’d been in Hell practicing with Kenvin, Omaera’s skills had developed and strengthened in miraculous ways. She still had a long way to go, but she was able to direct and control them a lot better than when we first arrived.
“Nulon!” my mother said again in protest, digging in her heels. All the prisoners wore drab, gray coveralls. The type mechanics usually wore on Earth, though theirs tended to be blue.
“Gwinn! Will you shut it!” Quintella said, raising her voice above my mother’s with an air of aristocratic authority that had even the guard’s back going a tad straighter.
The guard finally got my mother out of the room and the door closed gain. Like dust settling after a sudden gust of wind, calm and quiet drifted around us.
Eventually, Drak and his aunt began murmuring again. Quintella seemed to be doing the majority of the speaking. I wasn’t here for that though. I wanted to know why my father stuck around, when my mother was probably already muttering curses against Omaera under her breath in the hopes some of her magic worked.
“You look happy, my son,” my father said, pulling my attention back to him. His brown eyes shifted to Omaera. “Who was your father?”
“Why do you use the past tense?” she asked.
“You used it first,” my father replied flatly. “I take it he is dead?”
Omaera’s tone was even, just like my father’s. “Both my parents are dead. I never met him. All I know is that I’m half demon and half human.”
My dad blinked a few times, keeping his focus on my mate. “My condolences.” His gaze shifted for only half a second to me before returning to Omaera. “You love my son?”
Her head bobbed ever-so-slightly. “With my whole heart.”
Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I could have sworn my father’s lips twitched, like he was considering a smile. His focus bounced back over to me. “My mother is well?”
That made me smile. “She is, Dad. Gran lives in Australia now. She runs a rehab center for injured animals. Nurses them back to health.” I wrapped an arm around Omaera. “I can’t wait to take my mate to meet Gran and to cuddle some wombats.”
My father’s eyes warmed a little, and a glimmer of hope filled me. Maybe he wasn’t as forgone as I thought. Perhaps he didn’t share my mother’s undying lust for murder, mayhem, and vengeance. “How long have you two been mated? ”
“Not long.” I pressed a kiss to the side of Omaera’s head. “It’s still new. But I’m looking forward to a very long and happy life with my mate.”
She glanced up at me, pride and love shimmering in her green gaze.
“Thank you for coming to see us, Maxar,” my dad said slowly. “Your mother …” He sighed heavily, and it seemed like he was about to say something to, not necessarily justify my mother’s behavior, but … excuse it, or maybe explain it. However, he closed his mouth and forced a thin-lipped, grim smile. “Anyway. It is good to see you, my son. And thank you for bringing news of my mother. I appreciate that.” He glanced at Omaera. “While I can’t say I necessarily approve of a half human, half demon mating with my son, what he says is correct. The Fates choose our mates for us, for a reason. So I must believe there are bigger forces at play here.”
“Thanks?” Omaera said, though it definitely came out as more of a question. “Not sure if that’s supposed to be a compliment or not.”
“I think it’s as close to one as you’re going to get,” I said dryly.
The ogre-like guard that took my mother away appeared at the door again. He grunted and my father nodded to indicate he was ready to leave. Ogreman approached, uncuffed my dad from the table and recuffed him.
My dad scrubbed his hands over his short, graying scruff and up into his light-brown hair. Like my mother, he still held onto his youth, despite being two years away from seven hundred. There was quite a bit of gray at his temples though, and the lines around his eyes were deep.
The stupid urge to step away from my mate and hug my father was pretty fucking consuming, but not enough for me to actually let go of Omaera’s safe embrace and do it. I held onto her like a life raft, nodded at my dad and watched him walk away with far less drama than my mother’s departure earlier.
Not until he was gone, and the door snicked shut behind him and the guard, did I fully exhale all the air that lodged itself in my diaphragm. I slumped a little and leaned into Omaera.
“You did great,” she said softly, rubbing my back. “Your mom’s a piece of work though. Jesus.”
Drak surged to his feet so abruptly that the metal chair skidded out behind him, dragging all of our attention to him and his aunt. He glared at her, and she glared back. Neither of the vampires said anything though.
Then, still not saying anything, Drak spun around tightly on his heel and stalked toward the door. He knocked twice, and it opened from the outside. Another ugly demon guard grunted—were all the demons who worked here hideous? Was that a prerequisite for working here?—And Drak, followed by Zandren, stepped out into the hallway. Omaera and I followed.
Back down the dark hallway of doom we traveled, nothing but our absolute determination of getting the fuck out of there, propelling us toward the nothingness in front of us. We finally reached the door, and Drak pounded his fist three times against it.
It opened with an eerie creak, then we burst out into the daylight, all of us gasping for dry, dusty air.
Silently, we reached the gate, and the same ugly fucker from earlier let us out.
Luckily, the truck was still there, coated in a fresh layer of red desert dust. I’d never been so glad to see the endless, depressing landscape of Hell in my life. It was better than being in there, that was for fucking sure.
And just because we could, without even discussing it first, we all engaged our powers just a little. I conjured flames with my fingers, so did Omaera. Zandren held out his hand and made it shift into a paw—just because he could—and even the grumpy vampire dropped his fangs.
“Thank fuck,” Zandren said with a growl. “Never again. Never fucking again.” He stalked toward the truck and yanked open the back door, still muttering, “Never again.”
Rolling my eyes, I wrapped my arm around Omaera once more and we followed the bear to the vehicle, parting ways when we reached the grill. She went to the passenger side, and I went to the driver’s side. Drak was the last to get into the vehicle.
“Anybody need to pee?” I asked, turning over the engine.
“Just fucking drive,” Zandren barked.
“Yes, sir,” I said with a healthy dollop of sarcasm and a middle finger salute.
We were on the road maybe five minutes before Omaera spun around in her seat to face the two in the back. “What did your aunt say that got you so upset?”
I glanced in the rearview mirror at Drak’s stoney expression.
“Drak, please. You can’t keep another secret from me,” she pleaded. “I’ve done you the courtesy of not diving into your brain and pulling out the other one. But I’m pretty damn sure I could. Do I need to do a deep-dive now?”
The vampire’s gaze softened when he focused on her and his chest lifted, then dramatically dropped. “Lerris has been to see Quintella.”
If we’d been on a fucking road, I would have driven off it.
“When?” Omaera whispered.
A muscle pulsed in the vampire’s jaw. “Yesterday.”