Chapter 9

9

DEVA

Walkinginto the large meeting room with Circe on one side and Grimshaw on the other, I wasn’t sure if I felt emboldened…or not. It was a surreal experience, and I felt like I was watching it from outside of my body. My hands were rigidly pressed to my sides, and I couldn’t help but shake the concern that the minute I walked into the room, everyone would know who I was. That they wouldn’t hesitate to label me as Astaroth’s Dead Doll. An assassin. A killer. After all, if anyone would be able to recognize me, it was this group of people.

My men were around me, surrounding me protectively, but there was still a tense edge to how I felt that was no doubt radiating through the bond. It only increased the moment we entered into the space, my eyes widening at the sight of so many more people here than I’d expected. There was no way I was going to meet, let alone remember, the over fifty individuals gathered in the room.

I didn’t usually have issues memorizing names, but this was a lot, even for me. Add to that trying to remember everyone’s relationship to each other and the details about each person that I couldn’t help but pick up on, and I was in sensory overload. It didn’t help that I was constantly taking in observations about the room around me as well.

The room was two stories in height and had four fireplaces, two to each side. The black marble floors and small gothic windows that barely let in any light created a cozy, dark atmosphere that was complementary to the shadow magic floating through the air.

Which of course made the non-shadow witches stand out.

Namely Cage’s brothers.Unlike some of the other people I’d met, I knew instantly who they were. Besides the similarities in looks and magic, there was an air to the four of them that was echoed by my blood-loving psycho, although to a lesser degree. As in they were less psycho than the man I was absolutely in love with…something I needed to tell him, no doubt.

“Welcome everyone!” Circe called out as Phelan appeared next to her, now dressed in a dark cloak that echoed his wife’s dark clothing. “We will start soon, so please make yourselves at home. Food and drinks will be coming around.”

I came to a stop, taking advantage of Circe and Phelan’s side conversation to look around the space. I recognized some of the faces present, but most of them were unknown to me. And the ones I did recognize…well, it was possible I didn’t actually know them and they just looked very similar to Grim. It appeared that his family was far larger than I could have ever expected.

“Breathe, zaya,” Alek suggested, squeezing my hip securely. “I promise you are perfectly safe. If I think for a minute there is an issue, I will get you out of here.”

“He’s right,” Grim agreed. “They may be my family, but even I see the looks they’re giving Alek.”

“I don’t blame them—they don’t realize how much I hate the bastard that calls himself my father,” Alek murmured as I leaned back into him.

“All of these people work for your family?” I asked.

“My family runs The Society of Shadows, and all of them are part of it. Most of their lines have been for centuries, acting as somewhat of an informal government structure,” Grim explained.

“It’s why we’d met each other before going to the academy, although we didn’t work together until then,” Lazaro explained, joining us. Oz was standing silently near us, his gaze on the room with a quiet stillness that was perfectly natural to him. The only one of my men not nearby was Cage, his tall frame moving towards his brothers. I had a feeling he would want me to meet them, I just wasn’t positive I was ready for that…

“The Society of Shadows.” My brow dipped as I tried to recall if Astaroth had ever mentioned them, but nothing came to mind. I had a feeling he wouldn’t have called them something so official, instead trying to find a way to degrade them.

“And they were planning to have this meeting before we even came here?” I clarified.

Circe made her way back towards us, answering the question before one of my men could. “Yes. We’ll talk about it soon, but Grim may have made you aware that there’s been an increase in killings. I’m really glad you’re here, Deva, for many reasons, but I’m hoping you can provide some insight into Astaroth’s headquarters. We know a lot, but having firsthand experience…well, that would be amazing. And don’t worry, we’ll make it clear you were held against your will so your scope is limited, but the information is still invaluable.”

I swallowed and nodded, looking down at my shoes in thought before looking back into her understanding gaze. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I wasn’t ready to reveal the full truth either. “I will help as much as I can. I’m not sure how much has changed since I left, but I have a fairly good recall of what I experienced.”

In a way, Circe was right—I had been a prisoner, even though I hadn’t realized it. I’d been brainwashed to believe that I wanted to help Astaroth, that I wanted that lifestyle in general…it wasn’t until I was older that I realized just how wrong that was.

“Wonderful. Now, the group of you find yourself some seats—although it looks like Osborn may already be doing that.”

My gaze moved towards the man in question as he made his way towards a large floor-to-ceiling glass case in the far corner of the room. I didn’t hesitate to follow him, and I had a feeling that at least Alek came with, his energy wrapping around me protectively. I hadn’t doubted Grim’s observation before, but I also was starting to realize just what my shadow witch meant about the way people were looking at Alek with caution and mistrust. While my face had been hidden during my crimes, Alek’s father looked so much like him, and if he was as brutal as people made him out to be…the mistrust was understandable.

“Oz?” I called out as we caught up to the place where he’d come to a hard stop. My unblessed witch was staring at the gold-framed black and white photos in the glass case in front of us. I studied them with interest, noticing a few familiar faces in the one in front of him…but that wasn’t the one he was focused on. No, his eyes were on the smaller frame next to it, the photo featuring Grim’s parents and…well, I had to assume those were Oz’s parents.

I mean, there was no way it wasn’t his parents, right? The woman had the same bright intense gaze as Oz, her hair far paler, and the man who towered over her had hair that came across as black. His serious expression didn’t match the other three in the photo, yet somehow was perfectly fitting. On the bottom of the frame was a scripted phrase:

In loving memory of Medora and Nodin.

“Oz,” I whispered, my hand gently grazing his arm as I realized just how tense he was. His gaze flickered down to mine, his emotions completely shut off.

“I haven’t seen a photo of them in years,” he admitted quietly. “I wanted to see if my memory did them justice. It does. They looked just like that, at least from what I remember.”

“I wish I’d met them,” I offered sincerely.

Oz chuckled. “Maybe my mother. My father was an asshole, apparently.”

I didn’t think I believed him completely, though. There was a slight warmth to his gaze I wasn’t used to seeing.

“Nodin? Nodin wasn’t the problem.”

A soft voice had both of us looking to our left as an older woman, maybe in her seventies, made her way towards us, her silver hair shifting around her dark cloak as she eyed the picture with curiosity. I noticed immediately that she was an unblessed witch, and while I couldn’t get an exact read on her age, my initial analysis may have been off. As in she may have been a few hundred years old with how powerful she seemed to be. Alek, who’d been standing back, moved closer, his magic surrounding me protectively. But he didn’t say anything, nor did the woman seem to notice.

“You knew him?” I asked her, Oz staying silent.

“Of course. Nodin was a good man,” she said easily, her eyes lighting up with amusement. “Medora—now she was the true troublemaker. The woman had a bloodlust that I have never seen matched.”

I nearly smiled at that despite it probably not being appropriate considering the topic…because let’s be honest, I think Oz had a bloodlust that was a bit unmatched as well. I could tell my serial killer was a bit surprised by her statement, so I decided to ask more questions since he probably wouldn’t.

“Well, isn’t that a good thing?”

Her gaze lit up. “Sure—but there’s killing, and then there’s torturing for hours for fun and then killing.”

Ah, that made too much sense.

“Maybe they deserved it.”

“They probably did,” she agreed, her gaze filled with amusement. “And you, young man, must be their son Osborn. I was one of the first visitors to the medical center when you were born. I am one of the Society’s healers and looked after your mother following your birth. The name is Marilla, but please call me Mari.”

Oz took a long moment before nodding. “It’s good to meet you, Mari.”

Her gaze moved to mine. “Just like his father—so serious. And you must be Deva. Everyone has been talking about you, nearly as much as Aleksander. Although for very different reasons, I suspect.”

“You’re not wrong,” Alek agreed, keeping it simple.

“Tell me, Deva.” Marilla examined my face. “Where are you from, before Astaroth took you? I’ve been around some time; I’m wondering if I know your parents.”

Oh fates.

“I don’t remember,” I answered honestly. “He took me from an orphanage.”

Her gaze lit up with interest, and she put her hand out. I froze up for a moment, confused on what she was offering until I remembered that she was an unblessed witch.

Deciding she wasn’t a threat, I placed my hand in hers lightly. I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t for her to flip my palm over and examine the lines on it. My mouth went dry. My hands had been burned with lunar magic…well, a lot. A memory flashed over me suddenly and without permission as I felt choked on emotion.

“Keep your hands on it—don’t fucking move them.” My eyes stung with tears as my small frame started to shake with pain. At ten I thought I’d experienced a lot of agony, but it was nothing compared to this. At least not the same type of pain.

My hands were searing like they were on fire despite there being absolutely no flames. The moonstone in my hand was pulling my magic out of me, draining me so I couldn’t even try to focus on healing or feeling better. I didn’t understand why we were doing this. I knew they liked to take some of my magic to make sure I wasn’t overpowered, but it had never been like this before, and the woman standing over me wasn’t one I knew.

“Roesia,” Astaroth chided.’ “I don’t need her passing out—we have a mission.”

The moonstone was snatched from my hand. I nearly sobbed in relief, thankful for his intervention even if it was only because we had a job tonight. When he crouched down and examined my hands, his gaze was filled with absolutely no emotion, more of a clinical interest at best.

“A few less fingerprints—no big deal, right?”

“Of course,” I whispered, my voice raw and rough. “No big deal.”

Except it was a big deal. And I didn’t realize those same pained tears were welling in my eyes until Marilla stumbled back, clutching her chest. “You poor child⁠—”

“Can you see my memories?” I demanded softly. In that memory I’d thought about the job I had to do for Astaroth, and it wouldn’t take much to put together that I hadn’t just been a prisoner…

“No, just feel your pain…and your fingertips, they’re burned,” she whispered, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to invoke whatever it was you remembered. I just thought…well, that doesn’t matter.”

“What did you think?” I asked, feeling like it was important.

“You just…your eyes look so familiar. So damn familiar. I just thought maybe your magical signature would remind me of who your parents may be,” she explained.

I nodded in understanding but said, “Maybe it’s better to not know.”

“Maybe…”

“Dinner will be served during our meeting, please find a seat!” Phelan suddenly called out. We looked towards the rest of the room, and I noticed that my other men were near the center of one of the three long wooden tables, creating three sides of a square with an open center. Cage’s brothers were sitting nearby, the five of them trapped in a conversation that seemed a bit too amusing…

“Marilla—” I turned to find her gone, and I frowned in confusion.

“Don’t overthink it,” Alek suggested, his gaze following the woman as she returned to her seat. “I’m sure she was just curious, zaya.”

“I don’t like that level of curiosity,” Oz rumbled. I agreed.

“Let’s head over,” I said, walking towards the center table, wanting to be surrounded by all my men again. I knew that Alek and Oz both wanted to ask what memory had brought on such a strong reaction, but if I started down that line of thought…well, there was no way I was making it through this meeting.

Maybe after. Maybe.

I wasn’t surprised when Cage looked over at me, his smirk growing as he nodded towards his brothers. Their attention turned towards me with curiosity, and I nearly groaned, knowing that somehow, some way, Cage was going to make this more than a bit interesting…

I also couldn’t help but love that he wanted to introduce me to his brothers. I knew it was soft, but it really did make me feel special in a way I’d never realized I wanted. My heartbeat began to slow to a relaxed rhythm following the interaction with Mari as Cage’s magic reached out to me and soothed it, almost taking over the action for me. I was more than grateful for the help right now.

“Little siren.” Cage immediately swept me into his arms. “You’re sitting with me.”

“Okay.” I didn’t argue as he pulled out his chair and tugged me onto his lap. There was an empty seat for me next to him, and Lazaro offered me a look from the next one over that was half amused and half unsurprised.

“Cage.” One of his brothers sounded frustrated.

“Yes?” he asked, kissing my shoulder. I nearly shook my head, realizing he was messing with them by pretending like he wasn’t going to introduce me. But I knew Cage too well at this point, and like I said, everything he did was a bit theatric.

“Who’s your friend?” the oldest of the group asked, his dark gaze darting over my expression before offering me a small smile⁠—

“Don’t smile at her,” Cage rumbled, causing the four of them to offer him different surprised expressions. Melting back into him, I let out a sigh, and my blood witch tightened his hold on me.

“Fine, just so you stop looking at her. This is my siren, my obsession, the love of my life, Deva.”

What the freakin’…

“And Deva, these are my extremely boring, unimpressive older brothers—well, four of them—Endymion, Lugosi, Natrix, and Alonso. Left to right.”

“Nice.” Natrix, I believe, shook his head and sighed. “I’m not even surprised.”

“Now she thinks we’re boring though,” Lugosi pointed out.

“Boring or normal compared to him,” Endymion, the older one, pointed out. “I’m fine with it.”

Alonso offered Cage a smile and shook his head. “You’re fucked.”

Cage shrugged, and I stared down at him as he brushed a kiss against my lips. Then he spoke to his brothers. “Like I said, you’ve met her, now stop looking.”

Luckily, at that moment Phelan stepped to the center of the room as food was delivered to each place setting. Wiggling to sit in my own chair next to Cage, he wrapped an arm around me, and I offered him a questioning look.

“What?”

“What?” I parroted, incredulous. “You just said I was the love⁠—”

“Of my life. I know what I said.” He brushed a kiss over my forehead. “Like I said, I don’t do subtle. The truth is the truth.”

I loved that truth…and him.