Chapter 72
Chapter seventy-two
Alistair
He hadn’t gotten a spare moment with Chair Thorne since he’d thrown her in the main chamber. Alistair didn’t even know what to call her now. She obviously wasn’t aligned with the Council. Shit. Half the Council was dead now.
Blackwell and Renata had been incinerated.
Shadow only knew what was happening within the walls at that moment. If he didn’t think he’d be caught immediately, he’d travel back for Mr. and Mrs. Benero.
Al passed the makeshift healer’s wing. The prisoners had only minor cuts and bruises now, thanks to him and the one healer he’d saved. Most breaks had been repaired, more or less. Wrists were still deformed, as were many knuckles and fingers. All the prisoners were poorly nourished.
The domovoi had no qualms about his new guests. Al’s note must have reached the demon lord, and he was thankful for the warm welcome. They’d have been sitting ducks in the woods.
He went to check on Dominick and Theo. He had tried to give them some privacy, but Dom was in bad shape, and so was Theo. In fact, by the look of it, Theo had been the worst off of all the prisoners.
“Dominick?” he called out and knocked on the door. After a few moments of silence, he peeked in.
Dominick sat on the bed, holding Theo in his arms, rocking forward and back. Theo’s skin was tinged gray, and the lack of movement in his chest told Al what he needed to know.
“Dominick,” Al said softly. He put a hand on his shoulder, trying to stop him from rocking.
“No.” Dom’s voice was strangled.
“He’s gone,” he said. Dom didn’t acknowledge him.
Al assessed his friend. Bloodshot eyes, with a whisper of beard coating his cheeks. He smelled like he hadn’t washed in days.
“He’s not gone,” Dominick whispered.
“He is, brother.” He took Theo’s body from Dom’s grasp and laid him back on the bed, then pulled Dominick up to his feet. There was such sorrow in his friend’s eyes that he pulled him to his chest.
Dom shook in his arms, heavy sobs that racked through his body. Al squeezed tighter and did the same thing for Dominick that Sera did for him. Al wouldn’t let him bear this alone. Colton was gone, his parents, and now Sera. He wouldn’t let Dom fall too.
“I’ll ask the healer to come and tend to him,” Al said.
“I will wash him,” Dom said. “I’ll prepare him.”
Alistair grabbed the chair near the desk and sat Dominick down. Entering the bathing chamber, he gathered a basin of hot water and a sponge. Sera had left some fragrant soap behind, and he added it to the water.
He left Dominick to do his task alone. Al had heard it could be soothing to prepare the dead, even though they were burned anyway. He’d heard it was a way to say goodbye. Hopefully it would bring his friend some peace.
Chair Thorne had been holed up in Vasso’s study. The room was on the smaller side, and the house demons had probably cleared out anything that the owner deemed sensitive and stored elsewhere. But it was private and a start.
“Chair Thorne.” Alistair bowed his head.
“We have no use for that title here.” She rubbed her eyes.
This was the most disheveled he’d ever seen the witch.
Usually her red hair was pin-straight, flush with her chin.
The white streak he remembered just being in the front seemed to have crawled over the rest of her scalp. Thorne had aged a decade in a day.
“Some of the house demons have agreed to take watch,” Al said. “Not all of them can be trusted. We encountered a nasty set outside the manor, but those inside never gave us any trouble.”
“I see,” Thorne said, massaging her temples.
Alistair sat in the chair opposite her. “What happened?”
“It started slow. The Council votes on every decision. At first, I didn’t notice the changes in opinion, not even in myself. That is, until Briar stepped down and Lavinia was appointed.”
“Was Briar forced out of the role?” Council members had the right to govern until death. For there to be a transfer of power was unusual.
Thorne shook her head. “I don’t think so. She was old and felt her life ending. Corbin, on the other hand, was…” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I still don’t know what they did to him.”
Al rubbed his hand across his chin. This was worse than he thought. Demons were after them, and now the Citadel. “We need a plan.”
“We need to get more witches and warlocks out. Without the populace, we are nothing. There is no doubt in my mind that they have warded against you. Otherwise, I would have already asked you to start traveling,” Thorne said.
“Lord Vasso’s reach runs far. I don’t think the Council was entirely wrong about traitors within the Citadel walls. If we can get the word out, if they can escape the fortress, I can get to them. I won’t risk traveling directly in. Not yet.”
Thorne nodded. “Let’s try to get another message out to this lord.” Alistair rose from his seat and bowed. “We are equals now, Alcott. Please stop with the formalities.”
As he went to take his place on patrol, a lesser demon handed him a rolled-up piece of paper. He still didn’t know how they came and went undetected.
Make yourselves at home. That was all the note said.
He didn’t like being there in Vasso’s space. It smelled wrong, felt wrong. He had told Sera that his magic changed while he was here, though he couldn’t figure out what about it had. He still had full use of his abilities. Nothing hindered him. He didn’t feel sick… just off.
Maybe she was right about it being a side effect of the parasite, or the fact that he was surrounded constantly by demonic things.
He thought about that moment. He was so sure they would die, cornered against the rock.
He would have traveled above and burned out entirely for her.
He wanted one kiss, but he still thought himself a bastard for taking it.
His only regret was that he hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her how he felt before it went to shit—not really.
The moment she’d set her eyes on Vasso, something had changed in her. She seemed brighter and more alive around him. Al had been jealous. She’d been right about that. He wanted to be that spark for her, the one to set her alight and make her happy.
A bolt of energy ran through him like white lightning.
Al’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he saw a dark cave.
She was deep underground, but the summoning crystal had worked.
She needed him. The raised dagger of his bargain itched on his ribs, as if he needed a reminder of what he’s promised Vasso.
But he wasn’t doing it for him, only her. A beacon in his mind had him honed in exactly on where she’d crushed the crystal, deep in the heart of Gehenna. And here he’d thought standing within this manor was uncomfortable.
“Shit,” he said, rubbing his brow. There was only one way to find out. Alistair dressed in his Mesar uniform and armed himself until he clinked with each step.
“Dom?” He cracked the door. Theo’s body was gone, and Dominick lay on his side, facing away from him. “Dominick, are you all right?” Of course he wasn’t all right. But his friend didn’t retort with a sarcastic quip or jab.
“You need to get up. Sera summoned me. I won’t leave you like this.” He didn’t move. Alistair clenched his teeth. “Dom.”
“I don’t care,” Dominick said, barely a whisper.
“Don’t you want to see Sera?”
“No.”
He needed time. Alistair sighed and shut the door behind him. Outside, he asked the healer to check in on Dominick every hour.
“Yes, Mesar.” The healer curtsied, her head dipping low. Moons, he hated the attention this uniform got him.
Double-checking every pocket and sheath, he prepared himself. Sera had made it to Gehenna. That stubborn witch had done it. He was almost proud of her, but a layer of terror underlay that pride. She had asked for his help, leading him into a den of demons.
Nothing was easy with her.
Alistair sent an offering to Shadow, then vanished.