Not going to happen.
She pushed against the wall and cried out to Luciana. “No. Don’t let him. Stop this madness. I’ll get you the ring.”
“Shut up.”
The voice took her by surprise.
Not Luciana.
Swift.
“Knock it off, Delphine.” The raspy whisper of Swift reached out to her. “Let it happen. Use their desire against them.”
“You…hear me?”
“Constantly. The connection never cut. See? The kiss is over.”
In the moment she discovered Swift’s presence, Luciana did the deed.
But no more, even though Savard’s hands dug possessively into her ass, gun and all.
“Later, Emil.” Luciana gripped him by the elbows and moved back until his hands held air. “When we can relax and enjoy…this luscious figure.” She writhed like a snake flailing from a fist. “Fully. Thoroughly.” The muscles in her face arched into a smile. “Until she’s used up.”
His lecherous grin contorted his aging face, and she glanced down at the bulge protruding along the zipper of his pants.
If Delphine could have forced the demon to gag, she would have puked on his expensive shoes.
“Stop getting pissed off.” Swift spoke fast. “Baalberith is onto me. To us. To her. That’s both good and bad. Notice how you haven’t had any visions?”
“Come to think of it, yes.”
“He knows you’re the oracle. He’s LOC-blocking you like he did the others.”
“How did he find me?”
“When we connected, my body lurched and floated, a sure sign I’d been tapped. He intruded on my thoughts long enough to hone in on you. He felt Luciana in the process and absorbed all the information in a second. He only let go so she wouldn’t find him out. We’re on the way, but he’ll reach Zane first if you don’t get in that car with Savard. And Baalberith doesn’t need a gun or encouragement to do mortal damage.”
“I can’t hold her back or move her forward. I can’t do anything. She’s put up a wall.”
“That wall is yours, not hers.”
“No. I tried to break through. I can’t.”
“The wall is your fear. And it trembled. You’re ready to let go. Do it. If not for your life, then Zane’s.”
Zane.
She’d do anything to save the only man she ever loved.
Even if he didn’t love her back.
At Swift’s suggestion, she reared back her right arm and tightened her fist. With the force of her being, she thrust her arm forward, using all her soul’s power and weight. The invisible barrier juddered, more powerfully than before, and sent her knees buckling.
Savard grabbed her up close. “You’re exhausted, Luciana.”
“No. I’m not—”
“I will drive.”
“I didn’t break it,” she said to Swift.
“But you’re close.”
“I need to be through. Now.” She lunged at the wall again, a full-on assault. The quivering of the barrier stunned the demon. Her body turned limp and fell against Savard.
“Luciana?” He gripped her, lifting her to feet too weak to support her weight. “What’s wrong?” Savard spoke to her in French, his words soft and his concern genuine.
Delphine spun with the strength of a tornado and slammed the barrier before the demon could answer. The tear felt as real as a knife slicing her flesh.
A scream escaped her lips, shrill and long and frightening to hear.
“Dear, God. What’s the matter?” Savard’s brow furrowed, and his free hand cupped her chin.
She flexed her ankles and anchored her feet onto the cobbled road. “A momentary problem with the host.” Upright and pushing off him, she rebuked Savard for his distress. “Don’t ask for God’s help again. Speaking his name is an abomination and won’t be tolerated.”
“Of course.” His dark eyes narrowed, and his mouth drew up tight.
All attitude and determination, she speed-walked to the sports car. If she moved fast enough, she could leave the Frenchman behind, confident Jesse would put him down.
As soon as her butt met the leather of the driver’s seat, she slammed the clutch with her left foot and jerked on the gearshift.
The passenger door flung open, and Savard dove into the moving car. “Stop. Now.” Gun drawn and pointing at her, his mouth pursed in disgust. “Very good impersonation, Ms. Claudel. But my Luciana would never admonish me for using God’s name. She’d encourage blasphemy, with joy.” He poked the gun into her side.
Her insides trembled, but not enough for her to waver or allow Luciana to cross the line. She felt the demon’s temper tantrum and garnered confidence with every curse Luciana spewed. “If you know I’m in control, then you know the game is over. Get out.”
He smirked, a stomach-turning grin fueled by arrogance. “I love her, but the game was never contingent on Luciana. It’s always been contingent on the ring. I’m still in play. And I have the gun.” He pressed the muzzle deeper into her ribs. “She’ll return to me. Once I kill your cowboy.”
Through the new barrier, she called to the demon. “You hear that?” The weight of heartache pressed upon her.
Yes. The demon heard it all.
“Drive.” Again Swift ordered from far away. “I see the back of the Paris Gate.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
With a yank, Zane tore the duffel from his brother’s arm and set out on a tear toward the Gate. By the time he leaped through the portal into Hell, he’d removed a revolver and shouldered the bag.
Weapon up, he prepared to fire.
Then stopped cold.
Not Luciana.
Niall stood on the other side. The shade’s face contorted in more worry than normal. “I’d appreciate it if you’d lower your gun. I’m not all that certain holy water wouldn’t snuff me out the same as a demon.”
“You’re a spirit,” Zane admonished him, but pointed the revolver’s nose to the familiar cobblestone path all the same. “These bullets would cut right through you without stopping. I take it you have news.”
Boone and Vipond joined them. He could see the fire of irritation blazing in his brother’s eyes, but he couldn’t care at the moment.
“The demon’s coming.” Niall glanced behind him and tilted his head as if to listen. “I’m uncertain if Luciana is still in control. Jesse is under the impression Delphine is breaking through. If he’s correct, ambush is our best bet. I suggest we hide. A surprise attack might literally frighten her out of Delphine’s body.”
“We’re ready for her,” Vipond said.
“And you are?”
“He’s Vipond. The Big French Cheese,” Boone said. “He wanted to help, and we can always use more bodies.”
“Agreed, but in answer to your statement, Mr. Vipond, I guarantee that you’re not ready.” The shade continued hesitantly. “Savard is with her and is not to be trusted. Don’t let him draw you out. No matter what.”
“Savard? He’s here?” Unconsciously, Zane gripped his gun harder.
“According to Jesse, he wormed his way onto the team. He called Jack, telling him some shite about helping.” The shade’s Irish brogue thickened with each word. “What he meant was help himself to Delphine.”
The ingredients of an anger bomb synthesized deep in Zane’s belly. “Help himself?” He spat the words through tight lips. “You don’t mean—”
“He does.” Vipond nodded, his expression grave. “I’m grieved to say, Luciana is Emil’s wife.”
“Wife?” The fuse on his anger began a fast burn. “You didn’t think to mention that sooner?”
“I didn’t want you to be upset for no reason. I truly thought Emil would do the right thing.”
“Then you’re the only one,” Boone said between curses. “That smug jackass oozes distrust.”
“Do the right thing?” At once, Zane processed the new information. “You. You called Savard?” He jabbed a finger into Vipond’s face.
“You told him Luciana had gotten free. Why, when you knew he was a high risk?” Without realizing, he’d started bearing down on the older man. “He’s not planning on coming back, is he?”
“I don’t know. Please.” The chancellor stepped back, waving his hands for Zane to calm down. “I called him, but I wanted Emil to force her out. He’s the only one that can do it. We need him.”
“Bullshit. You helped Savard engage with the demon all those years ago and kept it secret. All to protect your own indiscretion.”
“A long time ago yes, but not now. I have a daughter. My only child. I’m here to help save her life.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Blood as hot as ignited gunpowder thrust up his neck into his brain. He could lose Delphine forever, all because two power hungry imbeciles couldn’t keep their pants zipped. The urge to hit something, to hit someone, especially the chancellor, overwhelmed him.
He balled his fist and pulled back from the shoulder.
Strong arms grabbed him from behind and then sling-shot him fifteen feet away from his target.
“Boone,” he said, laced with a warning.
“Stop reacting, bro, and think.”
“Get out of my way.” Blind with anger, Zane charged forward, circumventing his smaller sibling.
Scrappy and determined, Boone grabbed him by the elbow and hooked his sneakered foot between Zane’s ankles, tripping him from behind. He twisted around, landing on his ass with a bone-rattling thud rather than take a face plant.
Before he could spring back up, his brother bent low and stabbed an accusing finger into his chest like a bayonet. “Slow your roll and wise up. Unlike you, I was smart enough to use my Empath gift on the chancellor from the get-go. I’m telling you he’s good. Decent as anyone I’ve ever met. And I mean to a fault.”
Much as he wanted to continue resisting, Zane slackened his tense muscles. “A fault is right. This is all his fault.”
“Stop it.” The bayonet finger poked him again. “We all make mistakes, including you. Now you can check your anger here or stay behind. Your choice. I may be shorter than you, but I can whop you unconscious and leave you on the other side.”
True enough. Not many men claimed victory over Boone in a fight, himself and Jesse included. Though his brother lacked discretion in his personal life, the seriousness of the job consumed him.
“If you wish, Monsieur Gideon, I will permit you the same courtesy of an Empath read.”
“No need.” He waved off the chancellor. “Boone violating you is enough.” The urge to lash out subsided, but not the heat. He grabbed his brother’s arm for support and stood. “I can’t let anything happen to her, bro. I promised Delphine oracles didn’t go into Hell and yet—”
“From what I understand, taking on the demon was her choice. That means her innate sense of justice cut through her fear. Now you need to cut through yours.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“You should be,” Niall interjected, but Boone ignored the shade.
“I didn’t mean fear for yourself, but for her. She’s tough and stubborn. She rejected you for days, so she sure as hell isn’t going to let Savard touch her.”
“But Luciana—”
“Don’t go there. Don’t even think about it.”
“I already have.” His gaze wandered into the barren woods, wondering if Delphine already suffered at the hands of her captors.
“So what?” His brother threw up his hands and shook his head. “If it gets that far, if Luciana and Savard engage in sex before chasing you down, will you love Delphine any less? You love her, right?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean.” The words stuttered out in time with the sudden change of his heartbeat. He closed his eyes, and the labored breathing of fury transitioned into the deep breaths of concentration. The memory of Delphine standing on Quintin’s Lookout formed without effort. Classic as Rodin’s Danaide, her courage while facing the unknown revealed her true beauty. The true reason she owned his heart.
“Yes,” he repeated louder and opened his eyes. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders. “I love her. No matter how ridiculous it sounds to you, okay. I. Love. Her.” The admission lifted a weight Zane hadn’t realized he carried. “And no. Not any less. Not now. Not ever.”
“Hey, I’d think you’d be crazy if you didn’t.” Boone shrugged his brother’s hands off his shoulders. “But you shouldn’t care what I think, one way or the other.” He punched Zane’s arm. “You back to your old self, or do I have to feed you a knuckle sandwich?”
“Much as I debate your ability to perform your threat—”
“Yep. Back to normal. Thank God.”
Sheepishly, Zane glanced over at the chancellor. “Sorry I lost my head.”
“It is all my fault,” Vipond said from a safe distance. “I have much for which I need to make amends. Like you, I was in love. Unlike you, I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“No one understands the regret of lost love as much as I.” Niall wedged his otherworldly being into the huddle. “Or Luciana’s full plan.”
A shiver ratcheted through Zane, more from intuition than from where the ghost passed through his arm.
“Luciana demands blood to purify the ring.” His ghostly gaze focused on Zane and hardened. “She wants yours.”
Unwelcome images of an elaborate Satanic ritual straight from a horror movie came to mind.
“I take it a voluntary offering wouldn’t do, not that I’d consider it. She means dead, right?”
“Precisely.”
“Because I have the ring?”
“Probably for more reasons than that by now. While you bickered with your brother, I had a thought. Give the ring to Mr. Vipond. She’ll be thrown off by his presence. She might even assume he’s here to aid Savard. Mr. Vipond can then bargain with her. The ring for Delphine’s body and everyone’s safety. Even if she sees through the ruse, at first she’ll hesitate, giving Delphine the opportunity to push her out.”
“And if Delphine can’t eject her?”
“Baalberith might take care of that for us,” Boone said, tucking his handgun into the pocket of his baggy shorts. “Personally, I think we should bury it somewhere like bait.”
“Bait?”
“I’m guessing that ring is like a homing beacon to Luciana and her old man.” He dropped to one knee and opened the duffel. “I’m bettin’ that’s why she had to leave Hell. Baalberith is going to come after you both. With all he’s got.” He removed two handguns and placed one in his other pocket and one in the back of his waistband.
“Let him. I’m ready.” The chancellor stepped forward and extended his hand, palm up. “Let me prove my sincerity.” The charcoal-colored circles under Vipond’s eyes deepened, and his gentle brown gaze turned black and challenging.
How far could he be trusted?
Without asking permission, Zane shot out his Empathic gift, diving deep into the chancellor’s center.
He plunged into a swamp rife with the triple R’s. Remorse, Responsibility—and the strongest emotion of all—Revenge.
Boone had been right. Suddenly, he liked the chancellor a whole lot more. He withdrew.
Vipond met his gaze with calm assurance.
“Not everyone gets a redo.” Zane lifted the weighted necklace over his head and undid the fastener. “Make it count, Chancellor.”
“I promise. Even if I lose.” Vipond took the ring off the chain and slipped it onto his thumb, the only digit remotely close enough to the right size. He extended his hand to Boone. “But I don’t plan on it. I’d like another weapon and a grenade, please.”
“We got, but not a lot,” his brother said. “Use them wisely.”
“Of course.” The chancellor clamped his hand on Zane’s shoulder. “Promise me one thing, Mr. Gideon. Make sure I get out of here, one way or another. On my own two feet. Or yours.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Flat on his belly, positioned behind a tree approx
imately twenty feet from the Paris Gate, Zane constantly scanned the terrain for the first sign of Luciana’s approach. At Niall’s suggestion, they’d kicked up piles of detritus from the forest floor and burrowed into the nests for camouflage.
“At least this is better than when we faced Baalberith in the Ninth Ring,” Boone said from his crouched position beside him.
“Can’t say I agree.” He inhaled long and slow, keeping his heart and hands steady. The hunter within preparing for battle. “I’ve got a bounty on my head this time.”
“What’re you worried about? Before it was Jack and Swift’s life on the line, but we pulled them out. And this time there aren’t any knives or swords falling from the sky.” Boone grinned and adjusted his position. The leaves crunching under his weight sounded extraordinarily loud.
“Be still,” Zane chided and then picked up the conversation. “You forget. Prudence brought the Watcher’s stolen halo to rescue her dad. Jack still stores it at the farm, and I know she didn’t have time to go get it.”
“Halo-schmalo.” His brother patted his pocket. “We’ve got your fancy new guns.”
“Fancy untested guns. And no viable plan for dislodging Luciana. As long as she’s inside Delphine, she’s protected.”
A pained expression screwed up his brother’s face.
“You’re killing your knees stooping like that. I told you to lay flat on your belly. And you keep shifting and making noise.” Zane glanced around the tree to the position across the road where Vipond sat, waiting to be plucked like a flower. “The stink from the leaves isn’t that bad.”
“Matter of opinion.” A four-beat passed between them. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Zane,” Boone said, his voice unusually thick and serious. “Never have and never will.”
He cut his gaze to his brother’s face.
All exposed skin smeared with dirt and leaf particles sticking to his clothes, his twin stared down at him with an expression so somber it bordered on funeral.
Maybe the pain wasn’t in his knee.
Whatever held Zane’s heart in place swayed, inciting an ache in his chest he’d never before experienced for another man. Much as he loved his family, much as he adored his brother, they weren’t inclined to sentimentality. Funny over feelings or funny to express feelings, but nothing raw or naked.
Dream Breakers, Oath Takers Page 31