I speed on by Marshall’s home as if I never knew it, as if I never knew him, in order to divert suspicion in the event they’re watching. And they wouldn’t be watching if it wasn’t for Wesley. He’s the one that called their attention to us. He’s the one who scattered the food they were so hungry for along the four corners of the earth, and, of course, he was the one who welcomed poor Moser and Killion with open arms last year. Wesley Edinger is the nexus of this disaster. It’s almost laughable that I saw them take himfirst.
I’ve decided it’s too risky to call or text anyone I know. I’m sure confiscating cell phones is rudimentary business. No. There’s only one person I wish to speak with at the moment, and that is Gage Oliver. But where to find him? Ironically, if I text or call my own husband, he might be furious with me for escaping that hell he imprisoned me in. But I keep driving down that silver tongue of Paragon road because deep down I’ve known all along where I’m headed—Demetri’s. I roll up to his pop-up mansion and pull out my phone, staring at it, wondering who in the hell wasn’t at that party that might be able to help me, and then it hits me. Brody. I send a quick text letting him know we’ll be meeting later before heading up the long winding driveway. No sign of Gage’s truck, which doesn’t surprise me. His father isn’t his first choice of alliances to draw upon when the going gets tough. He’s not mine either, but I have questions, and he hasanswers.
I give a brisk knock before walking in. “Anyone home?” My voice booms throughout the cavernous mausoleum. I still remember that horrible room upstairs, the Fem trophy room. Its walls are adorned with hideous clown heads and creatures that have no earthly relatives, and I’m sure Demetri had a literal hand in decapitatingthem.
“Demetri?” I stalk into the grand room and find him seated facing the fire, a puff of smoke swirling to the ceiling as he enjoys a cigar. Figures. Rome is burning, and Demetri is sitting around with a fat stogie in his crooked mouth. He turns my way with that forever-wicked grin and opens hisarms.
“My favorite daughter-in-law. To whatever do I owe thepleasure?”
“Please. The feds took half the island to who knows where and Wes is in thatnumber.”
“The twins?” His head cocks as if maybe he doesn’t have aclue.
“They’re with my mother. The one youlove.”
“My Lizbeth.” That greasy smile returns to hisface.
“Yes, well, I need your help. What’s happened to my people, and how can I get themback?”
He lets out a tired puff of smoke and extinguishes the fat stick in his hand. “They’re coming home. But they’ve been tagged. They will be watched. This is a tragedy unfolding.” His dark eyes meet with mine. “However will you avert this from exploding in the faces of every Nephilim on earth? They are mere moments from discovering the marker present in yourpeople.”
A breath hitches in my throat. “I can’t let that happen.” I look to him with fear and desperation. I need the truth from this demon and so much more than that. “Has Wesley secured the Barricade? Are they impervious? Has he found a way to hide the markerspermanently?”
“No.” His grin widens before it collapses. “But let us not forget the dead.” He holds out his hand as if asking for mine, and surprisingly I give it. Demetri’s hands are coarse and calloused, thick and welcoming as untanned leather. “Skyla, you must see what they’ve done to thedead.”
In a moment we’re transported, walking the halls of an unnamed lab. The white walls are reminiscent of Ezrina’s old stomping grounds—but the smells, the stale looking laminate on the floor, dehydrated from years of neglect and wear, inform me this is a strictly human facility. Ezrina would rather gouge out her own eyes and drink them down in a smoothie than work somewhere sounhygienic.
“So this is where the dead are,” I marvel mostly tomyself.
“Raven’s Eye, just a stone’s throw from Host. But this is where they’ll remain while they have breath in their lungs.” He nods left and leads me into a vast facility, and as soon as my eyes absorb what’s happening, I stop short of breathingmyself.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. Settled around me are a group of men, each in his own confinement cell, each with bloodied faces, fingernails missing from their hands, one of them lies on a bed with wires coming from every limb and orifice, his mouth agape as he lies unconscious. “No,” I whisper as I touch over the bars. “I can’t bareit.”
“You should, and you will.” Demetri moves me along, his cool hand still clamped over mine. “If not but for the grace of God, there go you andyours.”
“Understand,” I say it under my breath. An incomplete thought that encompasses all of the horror this moment has to offer. I get it. I do. This could very well be my people. And if not for these brave, sweet souls, it would be. And now that we’ve been incarcerated in such a great number tonight, it will be. “Take me back,” I pant, but Demetri leads me deeper into the facility, past rows of countless cells, each filled with the sobbing and moans that only deep anguish and pain can produce. “I never thought they’d be inhuman. I never thought they’d dismember,dissect.”
“They have, and they will.” He sniffs. “All of these once dead souls are crying out for mercy. Their cry has risen to the throne, Skyla. Even the Master is imploring you to put an end to their suffering. Can you think of a way?” Demetri’s never-ending grimace preens for myattention.
“A way to end their suffering and not begin that of my people? Oh my God.” I bury my head in my hands a moment and envelop myself in a haunting darkness, reminiscent of the twisted fingers of Paragon’s most hellish woods, the color red staining in the backdrop. Moser and Killion… “I have it.” I spring up for air, the light of this horror far too bright. “Take me back to Paragon—back to Gage. I know exactly what I have todo.”
Demetri laughs, dark and rumbling, thick with evil. “You are your mother’sdaughter.”
The world around us softens, but I force these horrid halls into my memory. I stain the inside of my mind with the blood that’s been shed. These people—mypeople are being tormented alive. It’s not what I intended. It’s not how it shouldbe.
It’s the tunnels all over again. And ironically, that’s exactly where I’m taking Gage once I findhim.
The lawnin front of the Paragon Police Department is flooded with people bolting—escapingfrom the facility into waiting cars and vans. Although presumably they’re not escaping. They’ve been tagged as Demetri suggested, only to be toyed with at a laterdate.
“They’re free.” I let out a breath of relief, only to find I’m shy one Fem by my side. Figures. He knew so much. Demetri is a retireddetective. Everything that describes Demetri in earthly terms requires airquotes.
I spot Gage and Logan off on the south end of the property and boltover.
“Logan!” I crash over him with an embrace that not even death could cut through. “Thank God. What happened? What made them turn everyone loose?” I glance at the crowd for familiar faces. Those pens at Raven’s Eye were full. It makes sense that they’ve opted to take names and kick asslater.
Logan glances to Gage briefly. “They didn’t let everyonego.”
“God, they’re holding Marshall? I mean, not that it worries me. Marshall can hold his own.” A thought comes to me. “Wait, are they holdingWes? God, this is beautiful!” And just like that, all of the anger I had toward Gage evaporates. Wesley’s incarceration covers a multitude ofsins.
