Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
M ason led the way through corridors connected to the stainless-steel halls that went to the garage.
“Where are we going?” I asked, expecting the mirror room.
He gave no answer, walking staidly before me and finally shifting one of the wall panels, then disappearing.
I followed him into a rock-walled cave. Somehow, we were underground, but I’d arrived here without the full experience of descent.
In the center of the rough-hewn area was a large, raised platform made of the same chalky brown stone as the walls.
Circled around it and watching me enter were Britannia, Caledonia, Agatha, Maverick, Victoria, Devlyn and Sert—and Wald.
They weren’t quite the same, but all had elements that made them recognizable.
Britannia’s hair was curled and had a streak of emerald green flashing when she flicked it back.
Caledonia I’d never met, but I’d know her anywhere.
She had Britannia’s sharp nose and fine cheekbones but with huge eyes and cupid’s bow lips.
Her tits were at least a DDD. Maverick’s hair had no silver streaks, and he had no limp.
Devlyn’s hair was closer to ginger than blond, and Sert, well, he looked the same.
Wald’s eyes weren’t covered by sunglasses, but they were fixed on Sert, ignoring me.
That annoyed me more than the dying thing.
“Ah, our victim has arrived,” Devlyn said, approaching me. The shithead was exactly the type to be condescending to make-up for whatever he was lacking.
“Nice to see you…” I was going to say, alive again , and then realized in his eyes I was a stranger. Sert fixated on me as if I’d suddenly become interesting; that wasn’t good.
Keep your flipping head down, Harlan .
Living should be my whole focus. How hard was that?
“Let’s assess the wound,” Devlyn said, approaching me with a gleam in his eye that I didn’t like one bit.
“No need,” Victoria replied, waving a hand to get his attention.
“The poison is throughout her system now. Only a full heal will save her.” Her voice was tight, her eyes sunken, and her cheeks hollow.
Victoria never looked terrible. Something was off here.
I scanned the other faces, but they were all looking at Devlyn or Sert like I was unimportant. Annoying and weird.
Devlyn patted the stone altar. “Then let’s have our lamb hop up here, so we can work on her.”
Wow, things I’d like to do less: eat fire ants, walk through acid, die… oh yeah. I walked forward, the wide legs of the pantsuit swishing at my ankles.
“Do you have the item?” Devlyn asked.
Wald walked forward and in his open palm was the time ring. The red stone glinted as if calling me.
“No, you can’t give him that!” I yelled, lunging for it.
The silence in the room stifled more words as I grabbed the ring out of Wald’s hand and held it behind my back like a three-year-old.
“If you want to live, you’ll give the ring back to Wald, so he can surrender it to me,” Devlyn instructed, his eyes lingering far too long on my cleavage, which had amped up as the brooch slipped from my quick movements.
Sert interrupted, “I think the girl has some secrets to share. Don’t you, girl?”
Agatha glared as Sert walked toward me in all his slinking blackness. If people left trails, his would be black slime.
Wald stepped in his way.
Sert made to walk around him. Wald shifted and crossed his arms.
I raced over and tripped on the fricking pant leg hem.
With an echoing rip, I plunged forward. Wald whipped around and caught me.
I face-planted against his solidness, melting into his musky goodness.
His arms held memories. I looked up into his amber-like eyes, expecting recognition of the passion I felt for him and recoiled from the sadness and anger.
He knew something I didn’t. They’d made some kind of deal. A deal that involved me.
“Holy crap,” I said as he set me upright. I should have been wincing, but now my side didn’t hurt. Wald didn’t even look at me. My heart cracked in two.
Sert’s fathomless black eyes bored into my soul. “How do you know about this ring, human?”
I blathered words to fill space while I figured things out, “Uh, ring? It’s pretty.
I want to wear it. I like jewelry,” I said, seductively licking my lips and fingering the brooch near the exposed cleavage.
I knew damn well it wasn’t going to work, but I was willing to go with any distraction in hope that something might stick.
“You’ve seen this particular ring before, and you know what it does. Something smells here.” Sert turned and flourished his hand at Maverick and Victoria. They remained expressionless.
“Oh honey, you must be so cold down here in that suit,” Agatha said, coming up behind me and placing my leather jacket over my shoulders. “I’ll go get you a nice warm drink.” She clicked back to the wall and was about to walk through it when Devlyn called out.
“Aunt Agatha? You should stay until we have all this resolved. I bet you’d love to hear what this girl has to say.” His request was no suggestion.
Goddamn it, now Devlyn had picked up on Sert calling me “girl.” Someone was going to die at this rate, and it wasn’t me. I hoped.
Agatha stopped, turned around, and then walked to stand next to Victoria. Maverick walked forward. It was like dominoes tapping.
He squared his shoulders and expanded as if he owned the space. “You are out of line here, Son. This is my soil, and the rules are mine to make.”
Devlyn blanched, and his mouth opened like he was wordless. It was delightful to see his father could scare the crap out of him. Was Maverick his father? My family history memory was failing… Yes, he, Caledonia, and Britannia were Maverick’s kids.
Sert was watching the exchange, but he turned back to me and placed an arm around my leather-covered shoulders.
I squirmed. “Off.” And ducked under his arm. The jacket slipped, and I shrugged my arms into it.
He sneered at me, his black eyes boring into my soul. “Devlyn, she’s lying. She knows what the ring does, and I expect she knows something else she doesn’t want to share. Would you like me to extract the truth?” He licked his lips, and shivers crawled up my spine.
I straightened the brooch, which was basically doing nothing to keep the cleavage closed.
“No extracting, thanks. You’re wrong. I don’t know anything except that ring is lovely.
” I held it up to the lights bolted to the stone ceiling.
The stone was no longer cracked. “Garnet? Ruby? Very pretty. Anyways, let’s get on with this.
” I enclosed the ring in my hand and put my hands on my hips.
“Where were we? You were going to fix my wound, and then we were all going home? Why don’t you explain the process? ”
“First give Wald the ring back.” Devlyn crossed his arms, and Wald reached out his empty palm to me.
I paused. His scent flowed over me in waves as he stood in front of me, blocking me from Devlyn.
I inhaled deeply. The ring was dull and lifeless.
Who knew if it was even the same one. Agatha’s voice whispered in my head, “You can trust him. ” There was no way Wald hadn’t noticed my reaction, but no one else had probably seen.
I held out the ring. He still didn’t appear to recognize me, but when his fingers dusted mine to take the ring, sparks sizzled up my arm.
His eyes widened, and his lips twitched.
If his brain didn’t recognize me, something in him did.
I had to trust he knew what he was doing.
Devlyn took the ring from Wald with delight that lit his whole face.
Britannia’s lips clamped tight, and her fists closed and opened.
Yeah, she wouldn’t be happy. I would bet a week of Save-Mor salary that Devlyn wouldn’t have the ring for long.
Still, what mattered was me being not-dead and Wald getting rid of Soda.
Right? Right. Was I trying to convince myself?
“Now like a good girl, sit on the altar.” Devlyn pointed at me as I sneered at him .
Victoria walked between us. “It’s necessary, dear, for the ritual.” Her fragile long fingers wrapped around mine and led me to the altar. I reluctantly went with her. The stone grazed the back of the pantsuit as I hoisted myself up. That was going to leave a mark.
“Excellent. Where is the Klyngore?” Devlyn asked the assembled.
“Here,” Wald said, pulling the short sword out of a sheath inside his coat.
His fingers were pale against the darkened serpents on the hilt.
The light caught the blade, and I swear the snakes were moving under his hand.
I swallowed silently, sending messages to Agatha to explain exactly why I was trusting this would work out for me.
Sert moved toward Wald. “I will have to cut into the wound again for us to undo this,” he said with a smirk, gesturing at me. He held out his hand for Wald to give him the Klyngore.
Oh my God, they were going to kill me for real.
I tensed to leap off the altar, scanning for an escape plan that wouldn’t instantly fail but not seeing one.
Maverick’s massive hands clamped on my shoulders and pressed me down against the rough altar stone.
I thrashed as much as I could. “Let me go!” I yelled, hoping to elicit sympathy from someone. I silently pleaded with Agatha to help me.
Wald’s amber-brown eyes didn’t look at me as he walked toward the altar with the Klyngore. The blade was now glowing red. Sert held out his hand to take it from him.
“You can’t kill me! I’ll like die, die.” But Wald turned away from Sert and drove the fiery blade into my side himself. Pain ripped through me, reverberating with my screams as blood gushed from the wound, soaking the pantsuit and the altar .
“You frigging bastard,” I spat at Wald. Sert muttered something in a strange language.
Wald staggered back, and Agatha curled a hand over Wald’s shoulder, as if she were comforting him.
With her other hand, she captured his wrist as if to relieve him of the burden of the horror he’d just committed.
Plucking the blade dripping with my blood from his hand, she positioned it upright in front of her and then, holding the blade at an angle pointing at her, dropped to the floor on top of it.
The blade went right through her body, poking out through her back as she fell sideways.
Holy crap. I was dying; literally, the blood was pouring out of me. But Agatha was dying faster, bucking and gurgling for a few seconds, then completely still as if her heart stopped instantly. Maverick had let go of me, likely sharing my horror.
In the pockets of the jacket were Victoria’s knife and Agatha’s deck. Agatha’s voice was in my head, the warmth of the tingling power crawling over my skin as she entered me, leaving behind her magic and numbing my pain.
“You have everything you need now. Your power is in your voice.” Then, in a whispering trail of incense and roses, she was gone, and I was one of them again.
I gasped and flung myself off the altar, decking Devlyn with my tarot-filled fist. He hit the floor, gazing up at me with horrific malice, rubbing his jaw. His anger was the least of my concerns. Not daring to look at the blood gushing from my side, I bent down and plucked the ring from his hand.
Slipping it onto a blood-slicked finger, I twisted it inward, so my palm would cover it when my fist closed.
Then I staggered over to Britannia, releasing the blade of the little knife in my pocket.
Before she knew what I was doing, I’d stabbed her in the upper arm and slapped my bloody hand over the trickle of blue blood. She squealed and twisted away.
With a silent, this had better fricking work , I gripped the cards in my pocket, and the room went black.