Dez
The next day, Deziree and Vegas arrived back at her apartment. They were exhausted and overwhelmed by the last few days' events. Kade and his men had gone back to their respective homes after exchanges of thanks all around. Deziree flopped onto the bed, never having been so glad to lie there as she did after the trip. Vegas stood in her bedroom doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. He had been quiet the entire trip back, no doubt mourning his brother. She wished she knew the words to make him feel better, but she knew it was a lost cause. Vegas had spent so much of his time irritated with his brother for one immature, selfish act after another. Losing Lucas the way he did not only hurt but caused a lot of guilt. Guilt because he'd never had enough faith in his brother to believe he'd truly changed. She knew because she'd felt the same way.
“What now?” Vegas finally asked.
“Now,” she replied, patting the spot next to her on the bed, signaling for him to join her, “we rest. It's been a long week.” Vegas walked over and sat on the bed next to her.
“Has it really only been a week? It feels like it's been a year."
They sat in contented silence, but it was broken by her cell phone ringing. The caller ID read, Cassandra. She stared at the number on the screen and recognition dawned. Blurry numbers on an illuminated cell phone screen. Numbers she’d been trying to work out in her head ever since she’d seen a brief glimpse of them in one of Asmodeus’s memories. The memory and the screen in front melded into one and the numbers were a perfect match.
“Son of a bitch!” she screamed. Rage, shock, and hurt filled her all at once.
“What is it?” Vegas asked urgently.
“We need to go back to Venice,” Deziree growled. “Right now.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Dez
As they walked up the front steps of the estate in Venice, Deziree's nerves were raw. Never in a million years did she think she would be here about to make an accusation of this magnitude. Vegas walked beside her, the predator in him showing is his every step. When she had told him why they needed to go to Venice, he was as startled as she was. Since then, anger had replaced surprise. She had answered the phone and told Cassandra to call the Council, letting her know they were on their way back to Venice. In a bluff of sorts, she told Cass to be careful who she trusted. They needed her to stay right where she was.
They stepped through the front door and one of the butlers let them know the Council was waiting. They thanked the man and showed themselves to the meeting room.
Without hesitation or attention paid to manners, they barged in through the double doors. The entire Council startled in unison and Cassandra jumped to her feet.
“Deziree,” she said in polite greeting. “Please, come in.”
“Can it, Cass,” Deziree replied, completely cold.
“Pardon me?” Cassandra asked.
One of the Council members spoke up. “What is the meaning of this?" Deziree disregarded the question.
“We've been busy,” Deziree said. “I have to admit I haven't been completely honest with you. I told you we were going to try to see if we could dig up any leads. What I didn't tell you is that the demon being here did something to me.”
“What do you mean? What's happened to you?” Cassandra eyed Deziree, not really sure where she was going with her explanation.
“Let's just say I've developed certain abilities. Seems having my father around triggered something in me." She braced her hands on the table, staring daggers at Cassandra.
“Your father?”
“Drop the act,” Deziree replied. “You know damn well he was my father. After all, you're the one who summoned him. By name.”
As soon as the words were out, quiet murmurs filled the air as the Council members focused on Cassandra.
“When I finally realized it,” Dez continued, “it made sense. Thinking back to the last Council meeting, you knew something you shouldn't have known.”
Cassandra stood and started to walk toward Deziree. “Me? Why would I—”
“Don't move!” Deziree snapped. “Not one step further!” Cassandra obeyed. “I saw it, Cass. We paid a visit to the home of the records keeper the last night we were in Venice. When I touched the spot where Natalia was murdered, I connected to the demon's memories. I saw him rape, torture, and finally murder that poor girl. You knew she was tortured. You mentioned it when you informed the Council of the demon's presence. The final clue was your phone number.”
Deziree pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it in the air. “See, after we left Venice, we went on a trip. The memories of Natalia's murder told me where the Guardians were. We went to each murder scene and I repeated the process, pulling those memories as well. The demon made a phone call after he killed the Guardian in Savannah. I would have known right then, but I couldn't quite focus on the phone number in the memory. The numbers were too blurry. Well, the memory from the last Guardian told me where the demon was going to open the gateway. We went there and we put Asmodeus down, but not before he opened the portal and allowed a few hundred demons to pour out. Maybe more. We don't really know.”
Murmurs filled the air again.
“Don't worry,” Deziree said. “The gateway is closed again. Lucas Tremayne gave his own life to be sure of that. When I got the phone call from you, I saw your number flash across the screen on my phone and the memory from the Savannah house suddenly became clear as crystal. I saw your number and knew you had been the one Asmodeus had called. It was you.”
“Cassandra?” Klaudia stood. “Is this true?”
Cassandra stood in silence for a long moment, then her posture changed, the concerned look on her face replaced by one of irritation.
“Lucas Tremayne,” she scoffed. “I should have known he was fucking her. We knew someone had been at her apartment after she was dealt with but we didn't know who. I should have figured. No woman ever runs the chance of having cold sheets when he's in Venice.” Vegas took a step forward and Dez shot out a hand to stop him. “Probably just as well he's dead. That man was a waste of perfectly good fangs.”
This time Vegas released a deep warning growl.
Deziree shook her head at Cassandra, tears welling in her eyes. “I don't understand it. What happened to you, Cass? Why would you do this?”
“Nothing happened to me,” Cassandra replied. “I opened my eyes. The end of days is coming. Every religion the world around has a doomsday prophecy of some sort. They might not get the details right, but the basic tale is there. You make your allegiance and may the best side win! Do you think their god is going to take pity on vampires? Or witches? And what about you?” She pointed at Deziree and cocked her head. “How do you think a half-breed like yourself will fare in the final fight? I decided to make a preemptive strike. Long ago, I aligned with the side most likely to accept us. I set things in motion for the demons to break free from Hell and when the time comes, we would have someone fighting for us instead of all sides fighting against us. I did it for the good of the covens.”
“You don't have the right to make that choice for every vampire and witch. Who they will side with is their decision. Demons owe no one fealty, no matter what favors you grant them. They have no honor, Cassandra. They would have burned you the first chance they got.”
“You're wrong. The demons would have honored their agreement. They needed me. I alone have set into motion a series of events that cannot be stopped.”
“If they need you so bad, then where are they now?” Cassandra didn't answer. “You've betrayed everyone in this room, and every witch and vampire in the world.”
“I did what was necessary. When the time comes, you’ll see that I was right. You’ll see that I chose the winning side for the sake of our kind.”
Dez walked to Vegas and put a hand on his cheek. She leaned up and gave him a kiss. When she pulled away, she looked in his eyes, willing him to understand.
“There's no turning back now. I love you,” she whisp
ered, “and I am sorry.”
He opened his mouth to respond and his words caught in his throat as her eyes turned completely black in a split second. She whirled on Cassandra. "For the blood on your hands, you must pay with your life." Deziree tipped her head and Cassandra immediately doubled over.
“It doesn’t matter what you do to me,” Cassandra said with maniacal laughter. “Fate cannot be bested.”
Deziree reached for the hellfire with her mind and commanded her new power with a comfortable ease. Cassandra collapsed to the floor, screams replacing laughter as her body burst into flames. She howled as her body writhed and twisted, trying to escape from the anguish caused by the supernatural flames. As quickly as it started, it was over. Silence came and Cassandra was gone.
Suddenly, an orange beam of light broke down through the ceiling and poured into Deziree's body. When it disappeared, she could feel the demonic essence infusing itself into every fiber of her being. Every demonic ability previously unavailable to her was there at her fingertips, potent and effortless.
Vegas's eyes were fixed on her, frozen in shock. She could feel herself dissolving, changing until she disappeared into a cloud of black smoke and vanished into the ether. As she moved to the door, the room broke out into frantic panic. Vegas searched for her. He ran to the door and looked out but he couldn't see her. She took one last look at him, fighting every urge to shift back to solid form and touch him again.
Things had irrevocably changed. Moving forward meant leaving Venice but she had no idea where she would go. Maybe if she went back to New York and waited out the storm, she could find Vegas later and figure something out.
In the ether, she floated away from the estate and found a secluded alley a few blocks away. In the alley, she shifted back to her corporeal form and stepped out onto the street to hail a cab. As she climbed into the car that stopped for her, she glanced back in the direction of the estate. She didn't know where she stood with the covens. She didn't know where she stood with Vegas. She couldn't even be sure what she was anymore.
Vegas ... I'm so sorry, she wished she could say to him. She'd apologize a thousand times more if it meant they could be together.
She curled against the cab's back seat.
Until we meet again …
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Internationally bestselling author Jena Gregoire was born and raised in New Hampshire, USA, and despite her abhorrence for any season which dares to drop to a temperature below seventy degrees, she still currently resides there with her two children and several furbabies. Always a passionate reader, her love of urban fantasy books inevitably morphed into a love of writing them. She is currently working on the Hellfire (previously known as Demon Legacy) series and has a Hellfire spinoff series coming soon. Jena Gregoire previously published as J.M. Gregoire.
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The Devil You Know Page 14