Yeah, she wasn’t what he expected. She got that a lot.
Demetrius’s lips worked like he was warning her away.
The gun. She ducked but Bastian was there, plucking it out of the air. He clenched his fist around it to keep the demon from using his powers to retake it.
She snatched a knife out of the air. Time to end this. She stalked toward the struggling pair and swung at Shankre, but her arm slowed to a stop like she’d moved through air into wet cement.
Demetrius dropped his weight, a move the demon hadn’t been prepared for, and twisted his body until he flung Shankre down. He pounded Shankre’s face. And hit him again, and again.
Shankre’s limbs flopped. The fight with Demetrius had worn him down.
She stretched to get the knife out her shoulder. Bastian was there. “Pull it out,” she ordered.
She wanted to crane her neck and watch him, but it hurt too badly to turn her head. His fingers wrapped around the hilt and tugged.
The blade slipped free as searing pain burned through her back. “Fuck me,” she groaned. “Give it to D.”
Bastian hugged the wall like he didn’t want to get close to the demon and knelt to hand the knife to Demetrius. Her boss grabbed it, flipped it, and sliced it across Shankre’s neck. He jumped away as soon as he finished.
Blood sprayed.
Bastian fell back. “It burns.”
Splatters of blood covered his face. Tendrils of smoke curled from where each drop had hit. He wiped at them and hissed.
It was burning his hands, too. She couldn’t get her shirt off with her shoulder holster on. Jerking the hem out of her waistband, she ripped a piece off. He grabbed the rag from her and scrubbed his face.
His movements calmed, and he huffed a giant breath.
“You killed them?” Demetrius asked.
“Not the maid. We can question her. Quentin’s in there. The demon was sent back to hell after I ashed the vampire.”
Demetrius nodded toward where Shankre was bleeding out. “I’ll cut off his head and flash back to talk to Calli about this. You two got the rest?”
Ophelia cast a skeptical look toward Bastian. Fighting with knives in midair and getting singed by demon blood might’ve unnerved him.
Bastian glanced at his hands. His expression didn’t waver as he nodded. “We’ll take care of it.”
He really was adaptable.
***
Ophelia sauntered back into the chamber that held Quentin. She wasn’t even breathing heavy, and she’d taken out a possessed male vampire twice her size, not to mention Lora. The maid might not have posed a huge threat, but she’d been a problem to deal with and Ophelia had dealt with her, too.
He rushed into the room after her. She squatted by Quentin. The terrified boy trembled but was listening to her low words.
The boy was chained to the floor, Lora was unconscious in a heap several feet away, and there was no sign of the dead vampire, since he’d been ashed.
Bastian stayed where he was, near the door. The presence of an unknown male might shock Quentin back into whatever state Ophelia was talking him out of.
Ophelia glanced up and gestured to Lora’s prone body. “The maid’s coming back with us.”
Quentin’s head lifted. His bleary, red-rimmed eyes scanned the room. “Is Lora okay?”
Aw hell. Quentin sounded distraught over the maid. Was he still under her spell?
“Lora will not be okay. She colluded with demons.”
“Not Lora. They were forcing her.” Quentin spotted Lora. “Oh my god. What happened to her? Did you shoot her?”
Ophelia heaved a sigh and looked at Bastian.
This wasn’t good. He knelt by Ophelia, angling his body to keep Lora in his line of sight but block her from the kid. “Quentin, I’m a friend of Antonia’s.”
Quentin’s gaze shot to his. “Antonia? How is she? Did that male get to her, too?”
“Almost, but she’s safe now. I can take you to her. We’ll call your parents.”
Quentin’s head shook until he groaned and cupped his hands over his face. “My head,” he groaned. “No. Not my parents. Lora said they were working with that male to sell me to the underworld.”
“Lora was lying,” Ophelia said.
“No,” Quentin argued. He hunched back into a ball. Ophelia’s hard tone had frightened him.
“Yes. She lied to you.”
“No!”
“Quentin,” he said gently. “Do you think a demon is more likely to go through your parents to get to you, or through an attractive young female who can get close to you and seduce you?”
Quentin’s shoulders shook. “No.” It was weaker this time. “Lora likes me.”
“She might, but she was using you, and it’s not your fault. It’s what demons do. They exploit your emotions.”
Quentin blinked at him, his hands sliding from his face. God, he was so young. He snuck a glance at Ophelia. “Who are you? And how do you know Antonia?”
“I work for our government,” she answered.
Quentin squinted. “We don’t have a government anymore.”
“Uh, yeah, we do. We don’t have the old government anymore.”
Bastian bit back an I told you so. Now wasn’t the time to get on his soapbox again, no matter how much this was the Synod’s fault. “I worked for the Gastons, but I raised Antonia.”
Quentin kept his eyes narrowed. “So you’re a servant like Lora, but you say to trust you and not her.”
If the boy hadn’t been through such a trauma, Bastian would’ve shaken him. But at the same time, he was asking pertinent questions and not following blindly. He may not have done that with Lora, but he was doing it now.
The boy’s gaze strayed in the direction of the unconscious maid. “My parents weren’t trying to sell me?”
His voice was so little, Bastian could picture him as a little boy learning to walk. “They were not.”
Quentin finally nodded and tried to stand up. He wobbled and Bastian threw the kid’s arm over his shoulder. Ophelia didn’t bother finding a key for the chain around Quentin’s foot. She smashed it with her boot over and over until it cracked and she kicked it free.
He staggered out with the boy. Ophelia struggled with Lora, but he stayed with Quentin. She would’ve ordered him to anyway. Quentin might think he was in love with Lora and attack Ophelia for hurting her.
Once the maid was draped over Ophelia’s narrow shoulders, they wove their way out of the manor and flashed back to the compound.
The demon who’d targeted Antonia had lost another host. Lora was no longer bonded to a being from the underworld. Antonia’s father was still on the run, they needed to hunt down the one the Segals called Dieter, but the male from the night Antonia had been attacked was dead. Whatever came next, after a night like tonight, Bastian needed a break.
Chapter Eleven
Bastian paced inside the infirmary with Quentin. Ophelia was securing Lora in one of their holding cells. He’d wanted to call the Segals, but Demetrius insisted they question Quentin first.
Two parents were frantic that their kid had given himself to the underworld, but Demetrius wanted to question him first.
Bastian’s jaw ached from clenching it. He’d asked if Antonia could see the boy.
No, again.
You don’t understand the complexities of people, he’d told Demetrius.
Perhaps not. But I do understand that all the members of our society are in danger and it’s my job to keep them safe. It’s what I’ve dedicated my life to. So if I have to make a kid uncomfortable for another hour while I ask him questions, so be it.
At least Bastian was allowed to stay with the kid. The smell of blood and brimstone clung to the air. Would they make Quentin wait to take a shower, too, until Demetrius was done with him?
Demetrius reclined against the edge of the counter, his steel gaze on the kid.
“I still don’t understand,” Quentin said. “Why can’t I just go home?”
Demetrius didn’t soften. “Your parents will be notified shortly. Want to tell me what happened?”
Quentin squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his palms against them. “Ugh. I don’t know anymore. Lora and I started talking and one thing led to another. One night, she told me about demons and how my parents were working for them and how I wasn’t safe. But she knew a way for me to be safe.” Quentin carefully pried his hands off his face and blinked his eyes open. “Next thing I know, we’re at that place and she was asking me to say something.”
“You two had a sexual relationship?” Demetrius asked.
Quentin’s cheeks flushed. “Y-yes. We were in a relationship.”
“Didn’t the stench of sulfur turn you off?” Quentin had gotten close enough to her that he should’ve smelled the sulfur clinging to the female.
Darkness flickered in Quentin’s eyes. He scrubbed his face. “She smelled…nice. I didn’t notice.”
Lavender-vanilla-brimstone was nice? Demetrius looked like he wanted to snort. Bastian remembered his teenage years well and discovering the other gender. He could believe that Quentin hadn’t noticed.
“When did Lora start coming on to you?”
The boy trembled like he was ready to collapse under the strain. Bastian wanted to do nothing but send him home to the care of his parents.
“I dunno. Maybe a few months ago. It’s not like she jumped in my bed. We started talking and stuff.”
Oh, that wasn’t good. It’d been long enough to cement into the kid’s mind that she liked him, and that maybe they were even in love. Quentin would have a hard time not seeing Lora as a victim.
Demetrius’s expression said he’d come to the same conclusion. He withdrew his phone and thumbed in a message. “Look, Quentin, we need you to stay here for a couple of days. I think you’re safer here.”
Quentin’s eyes widened. “I can’t. I mean, I have school…”
A muscle flexed in Demetrius’s jaw. “Under the circumstances, school will have to wait.”
A rap on the door made Quentin jump. The giant blond marched in. He planted himself by the door and crossed his arms. A wave of cold air descended on the room. Quentin shivered.
Demetrius opened a cabinet and withdrew a blanket. He tossed it to the boy. “Get some rest. Bishop will stay with you for the next few hours.” He beckoned Bastian to leave the room with him.
He knew better than to argue in front of Quentin. The kid was already frightened and confused enough. But once outside, Bastian couldn’t hold back any longer. Thirty-two years of waiting on primes only carried so far.
“Why are you keeping him away from his parents?” Bastian hissed.
Demetrius kept walking.
Bastard.
He tried again. “He’s a scared kid, but you’re treating him like a prisoner.”
Demetrius rounded a corner and stopped. “And you’re treating him like a fragile child, which he is.” Bastian shook his head, but Demetrius amended, “He’s been sleeping with a grown female, one who up until a few months ago was the hired help. That’s gotta mess with the mind—in a way that worsened once you and Ophelia swooped in to the rescue.”
And keeping him here with a colossal half breed for a guard was going to help? “I get what you’re saying. But why keep him from his parents?”
Demetrius leveled him with a calm stare. “Have you considered that I may be protecting his parents? I don’t know how far Lora’s propaganda has burrowed into him. What if he hurts them and launches some half-brained rescue attempt?”
Bastian’s first instinct was to say that was crazy. But here he was after rescuing two kids from the clutches of the underworld.
“And there’s something else,” Demetrius continued. “I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something he’s not telling us. It could be how deep his feelings run for Lora. It could be how willing he’d been until the moment of no return. I don’t know. I also don’t like how the sulfur smell hasn’t diminished since he’s been here.”
“Maybe it was me. I’m covered in Shankre’s blood.”
“Maybe.” Demetrius didn’t look convinced. “You can return to your room.”
“Where’s Ophelia?”
There was a subtle lift to Demetrius’s brow. “I’m going to visit with her now.”
“And question Lora?”
Demetrius stared at him.
“Right,” Bastian said. “I’m not part of the team, neither am I prime. And you take your cues from the Synod by keeping your information close to the vest.” Even if it endangers others.
“Go get some rest. You did good tonight.” Demetrius walked away, and Bastian knew a dismissal better than anyone.
You did good tonight. Did Demetrius think he was talking to a kid like Quentin?
He glanced down at himself. Dried blood—both his own and the demon’s. Holes had singed through his clothes where the demon’s blood had landed. His skin had already healed, but his body ached.
He trudged back to his room.
Antonia’s door flew open, and she leaned out. “Fyra said you rescued Tiny. Is he here? Is he okay?” She blinked at his clothing. “Holy shiii… Uh, did you fight somebody? Are you okay?”
“I did. And I am.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No, but I helped.”
“Not cool, huh?” she said.
“Had to be done. It was a demon,” he finished as if that’d explain everything. “Quentin’s not ready for visitors and they want to make sure he’s okay before they reunite him with his parents.”
Her expression fell. “Can I see him before he leaves?”
“Maybe.”
“And we’re stuck here until we find out where Father went.”
That was about it. “I’ll start looking for him at sundown.” There were a few hours until dawn, but not enough time to drive Master Gaston out from his hiding place, wherever that was.
“Okay. Get some rest.” Her expression was drawn as she ducked back into her room. The monotony, the not knowing, the boredom, it was all getting to her.
Would she break? Would she do something rash? She was watched heavily, but he couldn’t stifle his worry for her. How close had she come to being turned over to a demon? How long had she been in danger and he’d been blissfully unaware, just like the Segals?
What’s done was done. It was energy wasted to ruminate over what could have been prevented. But anger about Demetrius’s dismissive attitude burned hot.
How many more of Antonia’s friends were in danger?
He had a lot to think about, and he knew just the place to do it. After his shower.
***
Ophelia punched the maid in her pretty little face. “How did you hook up with Shankre?”
Lora cried out, then worked her mouth. Ophelia flexed her fingers and fisted her hand again. One of Lora’s fangs had scraped a hunk out of her skin. Demetrius stood outside the prison cell a few feet away and Ophelia had no doubt that Calli was listening in with Creed in the office next door.
Lora spat blood at Ophelia’s boots. Her lips twisted into an ugly smirk.
Ophelia hit her again. This was so much better than a swing in the hammock for relieving stress.
“Who does Shankre work for?” Demetrius asked.
Shankre couldn’t have been running the show. The only second-tiers with major power in the underworld sat on the Circle.
Lora glared at Demetrius, but her lips stayed closed.
“Get Quution,” Demetrius said.
Lora frowned and glanced around. There was only the three of them and Ophelia hadn’t moved.
But Demetrius had a way to make Lora talk. Ophelia suspected his plan and was morbidly fascinated by the premise. If Lora wanted to partner with the underworld, they’d certainly make it possible.
“You might fe
el a burning sensation,” Demetrius said. “That’ll be a demon known as Quution. You know, like electrocution. Have you heard of him?”
Lora’s stoic expression wavered. She knew the name and whoever she’d heard it from wasn’t a fan of Quution’s.
“The electrocution part is relevant,” Demetrius continued, almost sounding bored. “He can manipulate energy. It cuts corners when it comes to finding a host.”
“What are you talking abou—” Her eyes flew wide and she jerked. “No!” She bared her teeth and gasped. “No! Not against my will.”
She spasmed and her head shook, her brunette hair flying. Blood splattered the floor around her.
When Lora’s eyes infused with inky darkness, Ophelia smiled grimly. Now that was effective.
And damn, good thing he and his brother were on their side.
“This one’s a fighter,” Quution said in Lora’s voice. “If she were prime I might not be able to control her.”
“Can you make her talk?” Ophelia asked.
“Oh, it would be fun.” The light blue infused back into Lora’s irises. She frowned and stared back and forth between Ophelia and Demetrius. “What’d you do?”
“Nothing as serious as what you did with Quentin,” Ophelia said. “Who does Shankre work for?”
Lora pressed her lips shut, but her jaw worked back and forth. Finally, she flinched like she’d been shocked. Quution won the battle for control. “Spectre,” she gritted out.
Spectre was a purebred and on the Circle.
“Who was the other demon with you?”
“No, dammit. You’re not getting more from—” Teeth ground and Lora fought her restraints, but she wasn’t strong enough to hold Quution back. “He and Dieter work for Willistien.” She sagged, a long breath puffing out. “Fuck you all.”
“That’s no way for a proper maid to talk,” she muttered because it’d piss Lora off.
Lora pinned her with a deadly stare. “As if one from such a disgraced family would know.”
For a young maid, she made it sound like she knew much of Ophelia’s background.
Lora chuckled. “Word has it, there was no resistance when your parents wanted to sell you.”
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