Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

Jaw hard, Finn followed the newcomer as they headed toward the living room. “We agreed that you should wait in the car.” Hearing footsteps behind him, he glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “Jo, what are you—”

“Jo is with me,” said Leticia just as this Jo person closed the door behind her.

Leticia smiled. “Hello, Devon. You’re a hard woman to get alone. Eric let me in the building, gentleman that he is. I’m afraid he won’t be joining us.”

Finn planted his fists on his hips. “I told you I would deal with this, Let—”

“I’m not here to confront her over the accusations she slung at Reena,” Leticia told him. Then she nodded at her friend. “Jo.”

Just like that, a heavy weight clamped around Devon’s body, pinning her still. She tried moving. Failed. Seriously, it was like someone had encased her in steel from her shoulders all the way down to her toes. Fuck.

Panic struck her hard, making bile rise in her throat and causing her breathing to turn quick and shallow. The feeling of being trapped would never be something she handled well. It always took her back to that sweltering hot car.

Her feline went berserk. Wanted freedom so that it could rip Leticia apart limb from fucking limb. The dark power inside Devon’s belly was just as wild, eager to be released; eager to protect and defend. But it, too, was trapped.

Her ribs suddenly seemed too tight, and she felt like she just couldn’t get enough air. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut down the panic before she hyperventilated. She forced herself to take a deep breath. And another. And another. And another.

“I know you got away from that last incantor, Devon, but I can assure you that Jo is far too powerful for anyone other than another incantor to take on,” said Leticia.

Maybe, thought Devon, opening her eyes. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t get free sooner or later. Leticia didn’t need to know that, though. She also didn’t need to know that Devon’s demon intended to rip out her throat. “Tanner will come.”

Smugness glittered in Leticia’s eyes. “No, he won’t. You see, the magick surrounding you won’t just keep you still, it will put a block on whatever psychic link the mark on your palm gives you to him. He has no idea just how badly you need him right now.”

Panic threatened to consume her once more, but Devon forced it back down. When the magick finally lost its hold on her—which it eventually would—he’d feel that she was in danger. She could only hope that it happened before Leticia had a chance to kill her, which she clearly intended to do.

Realization hit Finn, who also appeared unable to move, and his eyes widened in horror as he stared at his woman. “No.”

Leticia gave him a smile filled with mock pity. “Oh, yes.”

“Why?” he demanded, voice cracking.

“You really need to ask that question?” She sniffed. “That doesn’t surprise me. You never really saw any wrong in the things you did over the years. So many women you cheated on me with,” she mused, circling him. “Cheating was one thing, and I made you pay for it every time. But impregnating another woman? Giving her something that you refused to give me? I don’t want any more children, you said. Three is enough, you said.”

His nostrils flared. “It wasn’t planned.”

“Oh, I know.”

“I agreed to try for more. We tried.”

“And then I found out you’d had a vasectomy,” she spat, venom in every syllable. “You knew there was no chance of us having more children unless you had the operation reversed, which you didn’t. You let me think that the problem was me. And let’s not forget the other lies you told. ‘I love you more than life itself’ is probably my favorite. But you told me there would be no more cheating if I came back to you. You promised me. You lied.”

“Leticia—”

“All those years I stuck by you. Forgave you again and again. But did you ever declare me your mate? No. No, you wouldn’t share your precious power, would you? The only reason I stayed with you is that I thought you one day would. You owed me that.”

“And then you would’ve gotten rid of me,” he accused. “You’d have ruled the lair alone.”

“Only until Spencer became old enough to take over. I’d say that time has come.” She looked down her nose at him. “My son will be better at ruling than you ever were.”

The steel-like weight around Devon fluttered against her skin, and then it loosened ever so slightly. Not enough for her to move or send out any tendrils of power, but enough that a cautious hope flickered to life in her belly. She didn’t let that show on her face; just continued to watch the spectacle before her play out.

Finni inhaled deeply. “Leticia, please listen to me.”

“You have nothing to say I want to hear,” Leticia clipped. “I promised myself I’d never go through what my mother went through; never fall for a man who didn’t love and value and respect me. But you’re no better than my father, are you? A cheating, lying bastard. Pamela was right in what she said about you. She had herself a lucky escape, in my opinion. Didn’t save her from a shitty life, though, did it?”

“What does that mean?” The question burst out of Devon.

Leticia turned to face her. “Ah, so Pamela never told you. You weren’t the unlikely product of a one-night stand between strangers, Devon. He and your bitch of a mother had known each other for a long time. They used to date when they were teenagers. But she wouldn’t commit to him; said there was too much potential for sin in him. She was certain he’d hurt her over and over.”

Devon could only stare at the other woman, utterly stunned.

“You hear that?” Leticia snarled. “She gave. Him. Up. She could have had him, but she let him go. I found him. I gave him the children he wanted. I was his advisor and more as he worked his way to the position of Prime. She had no right to have a for-old-time’s-sake fuck with him—a man who had a family. He belonged to me. But she fucked him, and then she had you.”

“Leticia, please listen to me,” Finn beseeched. “I hurt you. Took you for granted. Cheated on you. But that cheating ended after you came back to me, I swear I—”

“You were planning to leave me, weren’t you?” It was a quiet accusation, and it made Finn stiffen. Leticia fingered the button of his shirt. “I found out about the little slut you keep in that condo in New York. It was bad enough you were up to your old tricks again. But then I realized you weren’t just having an affair with her. It was more. Hmm, I wonder if she knows about all the other sluts you keep housed all over the US.”

Leticia went nose to nose with him. “If you think I’ve put up with years of your bullshit, years of humiliation and betrayal and pain, only for you to leave me … Well you’re very much mistaken. I paid my dues with you. I had hoped that Knox or Jolene would kill you for me but, alas, that did not happen, so I’ll take care of the matter myself.” She lifted her chin. “I say it’s time to clean house. All those sluts you have secretly tucked away for when you’re on business trips will all be meeting untimely deaths. Some already have. And, of course, your illegitimate child will do the same.”

Ignoring Finn’s appeals for her to listen to him, Leticia crossed to Devon and tilted her head. “To your credit, you never asked him for anything. Never tried to impose yourself on us. I might have left you alone if the attempt to poison Pamela had worked—after all, I know what it’s like to be the child of an adulterer. But she survived the poisoning, and I can’t reach her now. The only way I can make Pamela suffer is by taking away the one thing she loves; the one thing she holds onto her sanity for.”

“Jolene won’t tell her I’m dead,” said Devon. “Pamela will never know.”

“But she’ll start to notice that you haven’t visited. She’ll either believe you’re dead or that you’ve abandoned her—either one of those things will send her over the edge. As such, I have no choice but to get rid of you.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Leticia. You wouldn’t have let me live,” Devon accused. “Like you said, you’re cleaning house.”

Leticia only smiled.

A knock came at the door.

“Help!” Finn bellowed toward the door. “We need help in here!”

Leticia rolled her eyes. “The walls are demon-hearing proof, idiot.”

The magickal weight confining Devon fluttered once more against her skin, and she felt it loosen a little more. Devon subtly tried to move her toes, and her heart slammed in her chest when she managed to wriggle them just a bit. Yeah, the magick’s hold was wearing off. Not enough to release any of the power demanding freedom, sadly, which meant it was probably still blocking Tanner from sensing that she was in danger.

No sooner had Jo opened the door a crack than Eric barged inside.

Finn’s gaze went soft with relief when he spotted his sentinel. “Eric!”

“You haven’t done it yet?” he barked at Leticia.

She gave the sentinel a haughty sniff. “I’m not going to rush something I’ve waited so long for.”

“Thorne’s hound will be back at some point,” said Eric, nostrils flaring. “If you want to make them suffer, you’d best get it done.”

“Eric,” began Finn. “What are doing?”

“He’s been on my side for quite some time, darling,” Leticia told Finn, stroking her hand down Eric’s chest. “He kept an eye on you for me. He was even good enough to broker deals for me using conduits. Yes, I know you had no idea he possessed that nifty ability to speak through others. There are lots of things you don’t know about me and Eric.”

“Tanner will know you were here,” said Devon. “He’ll pick up your scent.” And then hunt the bitch down and gut her open. The thought was so cheerful it almost made her smile.

“I don’t plan to run out and pretend I was never here. Eric and Jo will both back up my story that all four of us came to the building but that only Finn went inside to see you; he wanted privacy. Whenever Finn goes anywhere alone, he regularly checks in with Eric telepathically, assuring him that he’s fine. But this time, Finn didn’t contact him or respond to Eric’s telepathic calls. So, concerned, Eric went inside. He heard you two arguing—Finn was furious with you for the accusation you made against my Reena, you blamed him for your mother almost dying, you hated that he was refusing to hand over Asa, maybe you even blamed him for your mother’s mental state … Oh, yes, I like that. And then maybe he told you that you were a mistake; that you should never have been born; that Pamela was better off dead.

“Eric, so focused on trying to calm you both down, didn’t realize he’d left the door ajar … until someone came in and attacked. There was a struggle. Eric telepathed me, and I came rushing up here with Jo only to find you and Finn dead. I’ll have to injure Eric a little to make it look real, of course, but that can be done.” She patted the sentinel’s cheek gently. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“You won’t pull it off,” clipped Devon.

“We’ll pull it off, I assure you.” Leticia sighed. “Sadly, I don’t have time to torture you, and it would certainly mess up my story if you had all sorts of injuries. However, that’s not to say I can’t still make you both suffer before I kill you. I’ve suffered plenty. So why shouldn’t you?” She glanced at Jo and clicked her fingers. “Give it to me.”

Devon would have backed up if she could have fucking moved.

“Here,” said Jo, putting a tiny bottle into Leticia’s hand.

The bitch opened the bottle and sprinkled the contents onto her hand. Dust. It was just dust. Leticia blew it at Devon and—

Six-year-old Devon plastered her small sweaty hands on the window, gasping for air.She’s not coming, she thought. No one was gonna come. No one was gonna get them out of the car. No one was gonna help them.

She dropped her forehead to the glass, breathing hard and fast. Her hands hurt so bad from punching the window, and her knuckleswere all swollen and bloody … like Drew’s were when he had a fight with a boy on their street. Drew hadn’t minded how sore they were. He’d thought his knuckles looked “badass.”

Devon didn’t want badass knuckles. She wanted to go home. Wanted to get out of the baking hot car and change into clothes that weren’t all patchy with sweat.

Her chest burned each time she breathed in the thick hot air. It was like breathing air right out of a hairdryer or something.

She stared at the building on the far side of the parking lot, wishing the front door would open and Pamela would walk out. Why wasn’t she coming? Devon hadn’t actually seen her go inside, but there was nowhere else out here for her to go.

Had Pamela forgotten about them? She forgot about things sometimes. A lot of times. But then she’d remember, and things would be okay. For a little while.

Her mother would remember to come back outside soon, right? She would. She had to.

Devon licked her chapped lips, wincing at the sting. She needed water. Her throat was so dry, and it hurt from screaming. She’d stopped, because it hadn’t helped. No one had heard her. No one had heard the baby crying.

He wasn’t crying anymore. Wasn’t fussing or kicking. Wasn’t doing anything.

He’s asleep, she told herself, refusing to look at him. Babies slept all the time; that was all he was doing. She didn’t need to check on him. He was fine. Just sleeping.

But she knew it wasn’t true. She couldn’t hear his little heart beating anymore. Couldn’t hear him breathing.

A sob wracked her body and she punched at the window again. “Help!”

Devon gasped like she’d just come out of the ocean for air, tears pooling in her eyes while her heart bled. It occurred to her that she probably shouldn’t have been able to fight her way out of the memory. She’d have worried that more dust would have been blown her way, but no one was paying any attention to her. No, they were focused on Finn while Leticia berated and cursed him.

Devon felt the pull of magick on her psyche once more, knew the dust still had some hold on her. Fuck, no. No, no, no, no, no, she couldn’t go back there again. Couldn’t go—

Devon stopped slapping the window and collapsed against the car door with a weak cry. She’d gotten excited when she saw the guy on the bike. Thought he’d see her, thought he’d help. But no matter how hard she’d hit the glass or how loud she’d screamed, he hadn’t noticed her. And now he’d gone inside the building where Pamela had to be.

Maybe he had heard Devon, she thought, hope kindling in her chest. Maybe he’d ask the people inside the place who the car belonged to and then Pamela would remember.

Devon swallowed, and there was a weird clicking sound. She rubbed at her throat. It felt all scratchy on the inside, and her tongue felt swollen.

She tried reaching out with her mind to touch her mother’s, but again it didn’t work. Devon could only talk to people telepathically if they weren’t too far away.

Tears stung her eyes, and she wiped them away with her clammy fingers. She was tired. Felt all dizzy and heavy. Wanted to just sit down and close her eyes. But that would mean turning away from the window. It would mean turning … and seeing … seeing him.

He hadn’t started crying again. Hadn’t sniffled or moved.

He’s. Just. Sleeping.

Devon weakly banged her head on the window, wishing somebody would come, wishing the baby boy would move or whimper or something. But none of those things happened, just as she’d known they wouldn’t.

The breath gusted out of Devon’s lungs as she once more snapped back to the present, her heart pounding, her cheeks wet with tears. The others were still focused on Finn, who was screaming while Jo chanted something at him. Devon tried moving, was able to flex her fingers, wriggle her toes, and squirm slightly, but that was as good as it got. Still, she could sense that the magick was wearing off fast.

Darkness yanked on her psyche again, and panic seized her tight. No, she could not go back there again. Just couldn’t. She fought the magick, fought to stay with the present, but the memories sucked her under and—

Devon’s eyelids fluttered open, and she squeezed them shut as the sunlight stabbed at her eyes. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

She realized she was still leaning against the car door but, too tired to move, she decided to just lean on it a little longer. She didn’t really want to move her head anyway. It felt light but it ached at the same time. Like someone was stabbing her in the head with something real sharp. Her cheeks were burning so bad it was like they were on fire.

She felt her eyes drift shut but didn’t fight it. Didn’t bother trying to punch the window or shout for help, because …No one is coming.

Maybe something had happened to Pamela. Or maybe she’d come outside to check on them, found Devon asleep, and figured she’d be okay a little longer. The thought made Devon’s heart slam against her ribs, and her eyes snapped open. She hadn’t missed her chance to get help, had she?

Oh God, maybe she had. She should have stayed awake.

A sob built in her throat, but it didn’t come out. Her breaths were just soft, shallow pants now. Like her body didn’t have the energy to take a full breath.

She didn’t know it was possible to be this hot. Or this thirsty. Or this tired.

Her eyes almost slid to the side to get a look at—no. No, she couldn’t look at him. If she looked at him, it would make it real.She needed to pretend that he was okay. Needed to pretend they’d both be okay.

Her eyelids fluttered shut again. She wouldn’t fall back asleep, but she could just rest her eyes for a few minutes.

Tires screeched outside. Doors opened and closed. Footsteps thundered along the cement. And then a hand slammed on the window.

Devon forced herself to look up, saw … “Jolene,” she rasped.

The Prime tried yanking the door open, but it didn’t work. And then one of the lair’s incantors was there, telling Jolene to stand back. The woman then waved her hands and did some sort of chant.

The door was roughly pulled open seconds later, and then Devon was being scooped up by Jolene. “Devon. Oh, sweetheart.” Jolene kissed her cheek. “Please tell me somebody has a bottle of water! Beck, get the baby out.” She kissed Devon’s cheek again. “It’s all right, sweetheart, you’re going to be—”

“Jolene,” said Beck. The word was flat. Somber. Devastated.

“What is it?” Jolene peered into the car. And tensed.

“I don’t think he’s just sleeping,” Devon rasped. “Can we fix him?”

Face crumpling, Jolene just palmed the back of Devon’s head and held her close.

The heavy weight of magick disappeared from Devon’s body, making her suck in a sharp breath. She didn’t hesitate to release the dark power that had been bashing against her ribs. It lunged at the incantor and snapped around her body, squeezing the breath right out of her lungs.

Jo’s eyes widened with first shock then pain. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as the hazy vapor slithered around her like a serpent, tightening and tightening, crushing bones, causing veins to pop, tearing skin, and rupturing blood vessels. Then her head flopped forward, and the power released her corpse in an instant. It was over in mere seconds.

Devon was vaguely aware of Finn leaping to his feet and diving at Eric, taking him down, as she threw a ball of hellfire at Leticia, who’d been staring at Jo in shock.

Leticia stumbled backward, colliding with the wall. “Bitch!”

“Aren’t I, though?” Devon’s inner demon charged to the surface with a snarl, appearing in an explosion of smoke with only a flash of pleasure/pain. It blinked its eyes at its prey, blood boiling with rage, leg muscles quivering with the urge to lunge and maul and kill.

*

“You’re wondering why you didn’t scent me,” Foreman said to Tanner. “I can hide my scent. Make it literally vanish. Hiding the scents of others isn’t as easy—I usually only manage to cover them in a fake scent.”

Which was why Tanner hadn’t recognized Muriel’s scent at Harry’s crime scene. “You didn’t change Muriel’s scent today, though.”

Foreman shrugged. “There didn’t seem any point. You still would have followed the scent down here. I just had to be ready to stop you from disabling the bomb.”

None of them would know the first fucking thing about disabling a goddamn bomb, but Knox would easily dispose of it … if only they could get out of this fucking snare.

“You really want to die, Royal?” asked Knox.

Pain shadowed Foreman’s eyes. “I died here a long time ago. Muriel’s right; this ground needs to be purged of the evil here.” He frowned. “I didn’t help her kill the others. Just kept them still for her. Can’t aim that ability on more than one person at a time, though, so I figured it’d be best to cage you all.”

“It wasn’t,” said Knox.

Foreman jumped back as flames shot out of the ground and lapped at the fluid walls of the snare. Flames that were a mix of red, gold, and black that gave off no smoke. “The flames of hell.” Foreman stared at Knox, his face slack. “It’s true, you really can conjure them.”

“They’ll eat this snare, Foreman,” Knox told him, speaking loud enough to be heard over the crackling, hissing, spitting flames. Nothing was impervious to them. “They’ll devour it, and then they’ll consume you just before they consume the bomb if you don’t let us out right fucking now.”

“You’d never spare me.” It was a quiet, shaky whisper.

“I would if you released us. I don’t want to kill you, Royal. I think you’ve suffered enough. But I will end you if you don’t back the fuck down.”

Foreman swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I just can’t. This has to be done.” He shook his head. “You all should have just stayed away.”

A familiar, raging sense of urgency struck Tanner hard, making his knees buckle, his scalp prickle, and his hackles rise. Devon. His heart began to pound like a drum, every muscle in his body went tight, and his hound just about lost its shit.

“Something’s happening,” he told Knox. “I have to get to Devon.” He snarled at Foreman, his eyes briefly bleeding to black. “Open this fucking thing. Open it!”

The male stepped backwards. “I-I can’t.”

“You listen to me,” Tanner ground out, fighting his hound for supremacy when all it wanted was to surface and lunge at the prison it had no chance of smashing through. “My mate needs me. If I don’t get to her now, she could die.”

Foreman licked his lower lip. “I’m sorry.” He genuinely looked like he was, and then Tanner couldn’t see him at all, because the flames spread to the front of the prison and blocked his view.

Breathing hard, Tanner spat out a curse and hurled one ball of hellfire after another at the fluid walls. All the orbs disintegrated. “Fuck!” Nostrils flaring, he started pacing up and down. His hound roared and raged, demanding freedom even as it knew there was nothing it could do—they were fucking trapped.

“I’ll get you to her soon, Tanner, I swear that to you,” said Knox. “As soon as the flames destroy this snare, we’ll be out. It won’t take long. There are already fractures in the walls.”

It didn’t take long for someone to die either.

“I tried notifying Larkin and Jolene,” said Levi, “but I can’t touch the minds of anyone outside this prison. It’s fucking blocking me, just like it blocks teleportation.”

It was also blocking Tanner from touching Devon’s mind to be sure she was alive. Snarling deep in his throat, he punched the fluid wall in front of him. It was like punching an iceberg, and it hurt like a motherfucker. He pulled back his fist with a hiss.

A wave of Knox’s hand made the flames part just enough for him to look at Foreman. “Last chance to let us out, Royal. It’ll mean death by the flames if you don’t.”

His expression both grave and determined, Foreman shook his head. “I truly am sorry.” And then he started edging away, clearly intending to make his escape. He might be content to die in the explosion, but he clearly didn’t want to go through the agony of being devoured by the flames of hell.

Knox sighed. “Bad decision.”

A black flame flicked out and hooked around Foreman’s throat. He screamed and kicked his legs as it lifted him high, and then it dragged him down. His howls of pain cut off as the flames swallowed him whole.

“The gaps in the walls are getting bigger,” said Levi.

Big enough to fit an arm through, but not a body. And if the flames didn’t destroy the snare before the bomb detonated, they were totally fucked.

Urgency riding him hard, Tanner again tried reaching out with his mind to touch Devon’s, needing to know if she was alive. But, again, the fluid prison blocked his attempt.

Even as they all knew it was likely pointless, the three of them battered at the walls with everything they had—orbs of hellfire, raw strength, waves of sheer power. Nothing worked, but they didn’t stop. Still, it was likely thanks to the flames alone that a break finally formed in one of the walls that was almost wide enough for them to squeeze through.

“I know you’re eager to get to Devon,” Knox said to Tanner. “I’ll pyroport you right to her the moment we take care of the bomb—that can’t wait. Foreman seemed to be guarding that portion of the wall over there,” he added, pointing to their right. “Which was exactly where Muriel’s scent seemed to be leading you. The second we get out, you get your ass to the bomb. I’ll direct the flames at it, and then I’ll get us the fuck out of here. Agreed?”

Tanner nodded, even though the only thing that mattered to him was getting to Devon. He’d heard the ticking; knew the bomb was close.

“We can fit through the gap now, but it won’t be easy,” said Levi.

His prediction proved right. Knox ordered the flames to move away from that part of the wall—they’d cause him no harm, but they’d eat Tanner and Levi alive. The prison walls were so cold they burned Tanner’s flesh as he awkwardly struggled through the large crack. Although they were fluid, they scraped and scoured him, just as a huge block of ice would.

When he was finally free, he hurried his ass to find the bomb, but didn’t bother to check how much time they had once he found it. Didn’t need to, because Knox called on the flames, and they rippled along the ground toward the bomb, consuming it.

“Now we leave,” Tanner growled.