The words settled over me like a shroud. My chest tightened, my throat suddenly dry.
Dimitri snorted, breaking the tension. “Well that’s not ominous at all,” he drawled, his smirk snapping back into place. “You sure you don’t want to throw in a thunderclap for dramatic effect?”
Angelo’s head turned slowly, his stare sharp enough to flay skin.
Dimitri only grinned wider, unbothered. “What? Somebody had to say it.”
The front doors opened and Stefan Gabor, the headmaster and warden, of the Hollows, came down the steps. I tensed despite myself. He had on his usual long black duster jacket, no shirt underneath, and black jeans. His dark hair fell past his shoulders, blending into the coat’s shadows. Below, actual shadows rippled around his boots like living serpents, the same way they moved around Joy.
Just like Joy’s. My chest tightened. She had this same power—this same darkness that could protect her. I should have told her that before she left. Should have made her believe in herself the way I believed in her.
Dimitri parked in front of the steps then glanced in the rearview mirror. “Hope you’re ready for this.”
I wasn’t sure who he was speaking too, but I answered his question silently—hell no.
If Stefan tried to stop me from getting to Joy, I’d go through him. Reaper or not, immortal or not—I’d find a way to put him down. Nothing was keeping me from her.
Dimitri got out and moved to open Angelo’s door, but I was already out of the car, positioning myself between my king and any potential threats. Guards were posted alongside the walls, but no one made any aggressive moves toward us.
I nodded then Angelo emerged, power radiating from him like heat from a forge. Stefan bowed slightly. “Welcome, Angelo Santi. I’ve been expecting you.”
He didn’t acknowledge Dimitri or me; obviously we weren’t as important as Angelo.
Stefan definitely liked to surround himself with power. Made sense, considering Michael the Archangel was a close personal friend.
He turned and headed up the stairs, not looking to see if we would follow. “Come, follow me. Anton is waiting for us in my office.”
I gritted my jaw, not wanting to listen to Anton plead for us not to take Kara and Killian. Anton always did this—defended people because he believed everyone deserved a second chance, even killers. But they were murderers. Why the hell did he care?
Dimitri and I walked on either side of Angelo as Stefan led us into the main building. We crossed into a large marble entryway.Two hallways led down toward iron doors I assumed were where the cells were, cells I never wanted to see.
Stefan opened the door that led into a large office where Anton Lange sat in a chair. He didn’t have his usual Legacy robes on. Instead, he was wearing a dark blue suit with a pink tie, his long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. He looked like a lawyer going to court.
Shit.This wasn’t going to be a casual negotiation. We were going to have a fucking fight on our hands.
Anton focused on Angelo. “Angelo, it’s been a long time.”
Angelo nodded as he slid into a leather chair next to him. “Anton.” His voice was cold and formal.
I took position on one side of Angelo and Dimitri the other, like two sentinels flanking our king.
Anton looked at me and cast his gaze over me. “Enzo DiSalvo, you look well.”
A fucking lie. But I was done with the niceties. “We’re here to take Kara and Killian.”
“Yes, I know. There’s something you should know. Kara Khan is pregnant.”
