Only the Devout

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Only the Devout Page 18

by Amanda M. Lee

Paris turned sheepish. “It was a confusing time.”

  “Oh, please.” Zoe rolled her eyes, obviously relishing her position as truth teller. “She’s always had bleeding tragic taste in men. Heath is the only exception, and thankfully she snapped him up before he could hear all the crazy stories and run screaming into the night.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Paris shot back, annoyance flushing her features. “You found the perfect man right away. And, lest we forget, you dated Will, who tried to kill us, like, ten times.”

  It was obvious the women had a delicate history. They’d met in college — something I’d managed to weasel out of Paris weeks earlier — so it made sense that their relationship often devolved into taunting. It was no different than watching the Grimlocks interact. Unfortunately, we didn’t have time for it. I opened my mouth to say just that, but Zoe was already firing back.

  “Will tried to kill us three times at best,” she argued. “It wasn’t ten times, and he was a total weakling, so it’s not as if they were solid attempts.”

  Aric cleared his throat and sent his wife a stern look. “I don’t like talking about Will ... and Paris is right. That turd tried to kill us ten times easily. Just because he was inept doesn’t mean you can just sweep everything he did under the rug.”

  Zoe folded her arms over her chest and jutted out her chin. “Whatever. I believe we’re here to talk about Quinn and his cult of death. Let’s go back to talking about Paris’s bad decisions. Mine are minor compared to hers.”

  Aric’s lips curved, but he nodded in agreement. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

  I told them about Titus, leaving nothing out. When I reached the part about his sister, Aric perked up exponentially. “What was her name?” he asked.

  “Bethany Howard,” Cillian volunteered. If he was bothered by the roundabout route the conversation had taken he didn’t show it. Of course, this was par for the course with his family. He probably didn’t even notice the meandering track of the discussion.

  Aric furrowed his brow. “Hold on.” He got up from the couch and disappeared from the screen.

  “He’s going to get his files from that time,” Zoe volunteered. “He has records of everyone who died at the compound in case ... well, just in case.”

  I sensed her discomfort. Something very bad had happened at that compound. If they didn’t want to share that story with near strangers I couldn’t blame them. Still, I was curious.

  “Tell me about this door thing,” Zoe prodded to fill the time. “Paris has been tight-lipped about her new job. I’ve tried every trick in my repertoire short of using magic to pry open her mouth, but nothing. Can you tell me what she’s doing?”

  Apparently Paris’s legendary loyalty swung both ways. It was gratifying to know. “Well ... .” I wasn’t sure what I could say.

  “It’s a death gate,” Aisling volunteered, taking the decision away from me. “It’s a crossing between worlds. I’m a reaper. My whole family are reapers. We’re part of the greater plan and ferry souls to the gate. Izzy watches over the gate.”

  Zoe was intrigued. “Wait ... reapers are real?” Rather than being terrified, she looked thrilled. “That’s awesome. You’re in big trouble for not sharing that little tidbit, Paris. You’d better run and hide when we get to town.”

  I blew out a sigh and glared at Aisling, who looked surprised by my ire.

  “What did I do?” She was suddenly the picture of innocence.

  “That’s supposed to be a secret,” I reminded her. “We can’t just tell random people.”

  She offered up a dismissive wave. “These aren’t just random people,” she countered. “They’re friends with Paris — and they’re obviously magical. I think Zoe is as powerful as you.”

  The words were enough to have Zoe and me eyeing one another with a bit of wariness.

  “Let’s not go there,” Oliver suggested calmly. “We’re all on the same side here. Just because the junior Grimlock has a mouth that can’t be contained doesn’t mean this needs to go sideways.”

  Zoe barked out a laugh. “Oh, you remind me of my vampire. You’re funny.” She shook her head. “You don’t have to worry about me getting territorial when it comes to magic. The only thing I’m territorial about is my husband and daughter — and sometimes I wish I could give my daughter away to a traveling circus or something. I even have one in mind.

  “As for the cult, it wasn’t much of a threat other than they caught us off guard,” she continued. “At the time, we were laying low. The plan was to hide from the paranormal community because they kept trying to pick fights with me. After that, well, we learned that wasn’t a feasible plan of action.

  “We changed things up back then, and it’s worked pretty well for us since,” she continued. “If people want to fight with me, we don’t hide where they can find us. I’m right here. And if they come for my kid, I have no problem wiping them off the face of the Earth.”

  I swallowed hard at the dark look that took over her features. She was deadly serious — and in that moment I realized Aisling was right. Zoe Lake-Winters could most certainly best me in a magical fight. Hopefully it would never come to that. She was definitely a good ally to have.

  “I like your style,” Aisling said. “I have a daughter, too. She’s only a few months old, and I dread when she becomes a teenager because I know she’ll turn out just like me. That’s karma. I would burn down the world to keep her safe, though.”

  Zoe smirked. “And I have no doubt you would do just that.” She shifted her eyes as Aric returned to the couch. “Anything?”

  He nodded, his forehead furrowed. “Bethany Howard was among the dead at the compound. She died when the tower collapsed.”

  That meant nothing to me. “There was a tower?”

  “A lookout tower,” Zoe replied. “I took it down.”

  She didn’t offer more. She didn’t have to. I understood what she wasn’t saying even if the others didn’t. The woman was a powerhouse, and now I was looking forward to meeting her, even if I was a little nervous. I was used to being the most powerful one in the room. Zoe would most definitely put me to shame, but I was okay with that.

  “Did anyone survive that fight?” Cillian asked. Ever the non-judgmental sort, he didn’t bat an eyelash at the implications of the story.

  “A few people,” Aric replied grimly. “We wanted it that way because we thought it was best survivors spread the word of Zoe’s powers. We thought it might curb attacks.”

  “Did it?” Cillian had a curious mind and was always open for new information.

  “In some ways,” Aric replied. “In others ... well, people always want what they can’t have. Zoe’s powers are tantalizing to the weak. People still come despite all she’s done. It is what it is. Thankfully for us, the threats these days are of the weak variety. Still, we’re still always on the lookout.”

  I thought of Cernunnos, the god who had explained the incoming revenant threat to me. He mentioned Zoe a few times. Now probably wasn’t the opportune time to bring it up, though. That could wait until her visit. “What about survivors? If we can track one or two of them down, they might be able to provide information on Titus. We’re operating in the dark here.”

  “I have one name that might be of interest,” Aric replied. “Several of the survivors have disappeared from the area entirely. I don’t know where they went, but odds are they’re trying to hide from us. One witch is still in the state. She’s in your neck of the woods, in fact.”

  Now we were getting somewhere. “Do you have a name?”

  “Olive Westborn.”

  Aisling wrinkled her nose. “Who names their kid Olive?”

  “A sadist,” Zoe replied. “Although, to be fair, I considered naming Sami Gertrude right after giving birth. I thought she deserved it for causing me that much pain.”

  I laughed at the picture she painted. “I can see that. I don’t suppose you know where we can find Olive?”

  Aric nodd
ed. “She works for a magic store in Royal Oak.”

  “Not Tea & Tarot?”

  Aric’s eyebrows migrated north on his forehead. “How did you know that?”

  “That’s my aunt’s store.” Now I was flummoxed.

  “Well, then I guess you won’t have trouble tracking her down,” Zoe said, grinning. “Seriously, you guys are funny. I can’t wait to meet you.”

  The sentiment was reciprocated, but I had other things to think about. “Thank you so much for your help. We’ll be in touch.”

  BRADEN BROUGHT DINNER FOR US to eat in my apartment. Initially he said it was simply easier for me. I knew better.

  “Fine.” He shook his head at my challenging stance. “I can’t stand my grandparents. Sue me.”

  I smirked at his reaction. “I can’t stand them either. All you had to do was say that.”

  “Maybe I wanted to play the role of considerate boyfriend.”

  “You always play that role.”

  My response caused his expression to soften as he sank to the floor, resting his back against the couch. “They’re horrible. I don’t understand why my father insists on trying to forge a relationship with them.”

  “They’re his parents,” I said. “That connection is ... everything. Even when your parents are awful people, you still want the connection. You have no idea how much I wish I still had that.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “I didn’t mean to make you sad. Your parents are different. Everything I’ve heard about them makes me think they were wonderful people. Emmet and Mary are horrid.”

  I laughed at the face he made on the last word. “They’re not ideal,” I acquiesced. “They’re still Cormack’s parents. From everything you’ve told me, the falling out occurred on the heels of your mother dying. Maybe your father thinks he wasn’t in the right frame of mind at the time. Also, it’s been years. Pain dulls for everyone eventually.”

  “Yes, well ... they still suck.” He reached in the bag and pulled out two takeout containers. “I got coneys and fries.”

  “Ah, comfort food.”

  His grin was lightning quick. “I was in the mood for grease.”

  “Who doesn’t love grease?”

  I was more than happy to dig into diner food. Sure, the offerings at Grimlock Manor were off the charts, but that didn’t mean a private night for us wasn’t warranted. “So, do you want to hear about my day?”

  “Always.”

  I caught him up on everything. To my surprise, his favorite part of the story was when Aisling pretended to be Angelina. He cackled like a madman as I reenacted her performance.

  “Oh, that is just priceless.”

  “It won’t be funny if these people go after Angelina,” I argued. “She’s innocent in all of this.”

  “Angelina has never been innocent a day in her life,” Braden countered. “I don’t think she even knows the meaning of the word. You said Aisling called Dad to arrange security. She did her due diligence.”

  He took up for his sister at the oddest of times. “Why is it that when you say something negative about Aisling it’s allowed, but when anybody else tries you jump all over them?”

  He shrugged, noncommittal. “That’s the job of a big brother.”

  “I guess.”

  We lapsed into amiable silence for a few moments, the only noise chewing and slurping. He was the first to break it.

  “I guess you’re going to see your aunt tomorrow morning. I don’t have to work until ten, so I can go with you — if you want.”

  I hesitated. “You know you’re always welcome.”

  “But you want to do it alone,” he surmised.

  “I think it might come off less aggressive if I’m alone,” I corrected. “As far as this Olive knows, I’m simply visiting my aunt.”

  “And what? Are you trying to ascertain how she reacts to you?”

  “Pretty much. If she acts suspicious, that might confirm that she’s involved in this.”

  “You’re assuming that she somehow positioned herself to be close to you.”

  “I don’t know if I believe that,” I hedged. “I mean, it’s possible. I’ve only been back a few months. Cillian managed to pull her employment records. She’s worked for Aunt Max for much longer than that. I think it’s far more likely that she went to work for a magic shop because that’s where her interests lie and she lucked out.”

  “That would be one heckuva coincidence.”

  “It doesn’t feel like too much of a leap. Someone has to be providing magic to these people. I haven’t scented a whiff of power around Titus. I think it’s coming from somewhere else.”

  “How do you know there’s magic involved at all? We could just be dealing with a charismatic grifter and a bunch of morons.”

  “Yes, but one of those morons is a murderer. That guy last night, he slit his own throat rather than talk to me. There must be a reason, and I think it’s a magical one.”

  “Well, you have a better feeling for these things. If you believe it’s magic, then I agree with you. You’re the smartest woman I know.”

  “I think you’re just saying that because you want to get lucky tonight.”

  He winked. “I kind of like my odds on that front.”

  He wasn’t the only one.

  Nineteen

  Braden and I rode together to the aquarium the next morning. The plan was to check in with Oliver and Paris and then excuse myself for a visit to Aunt Maxine’s shop as soon as I verified the initial soul count. The sight that greeted us in the parking lot was something straight out of a movie, though, derailing everything.

  “What the ... ?” I was dumbfounded as I slid out of the passenger seat and stared at the melee.

  Titus had somehow created a media circus. All three of the local news stations were on hand, reporters wielding microphones interviewing participants. Several of the vehicles were from the larger daily newspapers.

  “How did he manage this?” Braden moved to my side, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “I just don’t understand.”

  I had no idea what to make of it. “What am I supposed to do?”

  His turned to me. “What do you mean?”

  “Look at this!” My voice came out much shriller than I intended and my hands seemed to have a mind of their own as they flapped about. “We can’t have this on our front lawn.”

  “I think it’s technically the side parking lot, but I take your meaning.”

  I shot him a dirty look. “Really? Do you think this is the time to play the semantics game with me?”

  Rather than shrink back as I intended, he grinned. “You’re crabby. I would think that after I wowed you last night you’d be in a better mood.”

  Ugh. Only a Grimlock would boast about his sexual prowess at a time like this. Check that. Only a male Grimlock. Even Aisling wouldn’t be this annoying. “You should probably get to work,” I gritted out, fighting to maintain my temper.

  Braden arched an eyebrow, his smile slipping. “Izzy, you need to calm down,” he admonished, lowering his voice. “I know you like to control things, but this is beyond your control. This is ... beyond anyone’s realm of control.”

  I didn’t want to hear it. “Go to work, Braden,” I ordered. “You shouldn’t be here in case the television crews start taping you. The last thing you want is your face plastered all over the evening news.”

  “So what if it is?” He refused to back down. “I haven’t done anything to warrant attention. Hiding from the cameras will only make them want to tape me more. The same goes for you. The best way to deal with this is to pretend it doesn’t bother you.”

  “But it does bother me.”

  “I know, but you have to pretend it doesn’t. If Titus believes he’s getting to you, he’ll ramp up the pressure. That’s how men like him operate. He wants you off your game.”

  The words made sense on the surface. That didn’t mean I could simply turn my emotions on and off
. “This is the worst thing that could’ve happened,” I insisted. “This is going to draw looky-loos from all across southeastern Michigan. Do you really want that given what’s in the basement?”

  “As long as they don’t get into the basement it doesn’t matter what they do up here.” He was firm. “You have to put on your game face — and not the bruja mask, because that will really freak people out and convince them that these nutbags are on to something. Go about your day. That’s the only thing you can do.”

  He made sense, but I couldn’t unclench. “I’m calling your father. Someone has to deal with this.”

  “I think that’s a good idea.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded without hesitation. “He’s better equipped to deal with this. The council should know anyway. If there’s a chance for them to dissuade these guys, they should do it. It’s not your job to handle, though. You already have your day planned. You should stick to that.”

  I hated it — absolutely hated it! — when he made more sense than me. “I guess. I ... .” I frowned when I saw three new faces at the front of the circle. They were all young and blond, and none of them was Andrea. As far as I could tell, she was still missing.

  “Where did they come from?” I threw up my hands, frustration returning with a vengeance.

  Braden sighed and glanced over his shoulder, frowning when he caught sight of the women. “I have no idea. You’re sure they’re new?”

  “I think I would’ve remembered if they were here before. They stick out in a group of middle-aged, pasty freaks.”

  “It’s good to know your head is in a good place,” he said, moving his hand to the back of my neck to rub at the tension there. “Why do you think they’re wearing matching T-shirts?”

  I’d been wondering that myself. In addition to matching highlights, the girls all sported plain purple shirts with plunging vee necks that drew attention to their ample assets. “I don’t know.” A sick thought invaded my busy brain. “What if they’re meant to be something special?”

  “Like what?” He searched my face. “What do you think they’re supposed to be?”

 

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