Only the Devout

by Amanda M. Lee

  “We’re after the tall one,” I reminded them. “Don’t lose him.”

  We lapsed into silence and waited, the only sound coming from the footsteps on the pavement. Cormack and Cillian were through the gate in seconds. The looks on the faces of the men as they ceased chanting were priceless.

  “What are you doing?” Cormack called out.

  I took a moment to scan the neighbors’ houses, but there was no movement. The buildings were so big it was likely nobody inside could hear what was happening on the street. That was a good thing.

  “We’re not doing anything,” one of the men replied. He sounded bold, but I knew better. These men were getting ready to rabbit. “We’re not breaking any laws.”

  “I don’t really care,” Cormack replied. “You don’t belong here. This is a private neighborhood. You need to leave.”

  “There’s no gate,” one of the other men argued. “As long as there’s no gate, we’re well within our rights to be wherever we want.”

  “I don’t really care about your rights,” Cormack shot back. “You’re disturbing my household.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” This time it was the tall man who spoke. “Do you think you can stop us?”

  “That’s exactly what I think.” Cormack took an exaggerated step forward, and as I predicted, the men scattered. This time we would not have our attention split.

  “Now,” I ordered as Redmond and Braden exploded from behind the tree after the same man.

  It was harder for me to keep up, but the race was over almost before it began. The man realized what was happening too late and started to slow. There was indecision on his face as his head swung in the darkness, perhaps trying to ascertain if any of his friends would return.

  “They’re not coming back for you,” I offered, moving between Redmond and Braden. They were poised for action, waiting to see what the man would do. “You all agreed that it was every man for himself, right? That leaves you as the man by himself.”

  “You could just let me go,” the man suggested, his voice cracking. He was obviously nervous knowing what he had to do. Unlike his counterpart a few nights before, there was hesitation this time. “You don’t have to do anything to me. I won’t come back. I promise.”

  “We don’t trust your promises,” Cormack said, joining the fray. “You have two choices, son. You can voluntarily come into the house and answer our questions or we’ll force you into the house and you’ll answer our questions. That’s all we have to offer you.”

  The man’s chest heaved as glanced between faces. I knew what he would find. Determination and anger fueled the Grimlocks now. The chanting was viewed as an assault on Lily. It was doubtful the men realized the true consequences of their actions, but it was far too late to fix that now.

  “There is one other option,” the man said, grim. “Just one other option.”

  I knew what to expect this time, so when he reached into his pocket and came back with a knife I lashed out with my magic at the same time the Grimlocks collapsed on him.

  His eyes went wide when he realized his arm was pinned at his side, the knife helplessly gripped in his fingers.

  “Yeah, we’re not going to let you take the easy way out,” Aidan said, ripping the knife from the man’s hand as Griffin came up with a pair of handcuffs.

  “There will be no suicide to protect your secrets this time, son,” Cormack noted. “You’ll provide the answers we want, whether you like it or not.”

  The man’s eyes sought — and found — me. He looked helpless. “You’ll regret this. You have to let me go.”

  “The only one feeling regret when this is over will be Titus,” I reassured him. “We have no intention of killing you, but you will answer our questions.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Griffin said grimly. “He hurt my baby. If he doesn’t tell me what I want to know, I’ll kill him. I won’t feel a second of remorse.”

  He was playing a part. He was the bad cop in our group. Of course, all of them wanted to be bad cop. There wasn’t a good cop in sight. Still, for a split second, I saw what a father would do to protect his child. Griffin wasn’t exaggerating. If it came to a choice between this man and Lily, his daughter would win every time. What was more important, our new captive saw it, too. That didn’t mean he would play nice.

  “I’ll never tell you what you want to know,” he vowed. “I’m loyal to the cause.”

  I smirked. “We’ll just see about that. You might be surprised at the torture techniques we have at our fingertips. For you, it’s going to be a really long night.”

  Twenty-Six

  Aisling was in the foyer with the baby when we dragged our prisoner into the house.

  “How is my baby?” Griffin immediately crossed the room to check on his family.

  Lily’s eyes were still damp with tears, but she was no longer crying. I wasn’t sure babies could glare until I saw the way her eyes tracked to the stranger.

  “She’s okay,” Aisling replied. “She’s not crying now.”

  “Actually, I was talking about you.” Griffin grinned at his wife. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, although her features were wan. “I don’t like being cut out of the action.”

  “You weren’t cut out. You were inside while we were outside.”

  “That’s not any better.” Aisling’s eyes were narrow slits of disgust as she glared at the robed chanter. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “Lock him in the dungeon for the night,” Braden replied. “Then we’re going to get some sleep and interrogate him tomorrow morning.”

  “We are?” That was news to me. “I thought we were going after him tonight.”

  “We’re going to lock him up for a few hours so he can think about his options,” Cormack replied grimly.

  I thought that was a terrible idea. “Um ... what if he has cyanide or something on him as an alternate means to kill himself?”

  Braden looked horrified. “Why would he have cyanide on him?”

  “Who knows? I’ve seen it in movies.”

  “Oh, well, if you’ve seen it in movies.” Cormack rolled his eyes, although the smile he offered was kind. “I very much doubt he has cyanide. Wouldn’t that be easier than slitting your own throat?”

  He had a point, but still ... . “Maybe the throat thing is for theatrics. We should question him now.”

  Cormack shook his head. “No. I want to wait until everybody is rested and together. We’ll do it in the morning.” He was firm as he glanced at Lily, flashing a bright smile for the baby’s benefit. She didn’t return it. “Everyone needs some sleep.”

  “I still don’t think this is a good idea,” I persisted. “What if he has a lock-picking set on him or something?”

  “You obviously haven’t seen our dungeon up close,” Cormack replied, sliding his arm around my neck and tugging me toward the stairs that led to the basement. “I’ll show you.” His eyes lingered on Griffin and Aisling, concern etching his face. “We’ll take care of this. You head upstairs. If you want, I’ll sit up with Lily tonight.”

  Griffin smiled in thanks at his father-in-law, but he was already shaking his head. “No. We’ll keep Lily in the room with us tonight. We still have that portable baby bed.”

  Cormack balked. “You need your sleep.”

  “Aisling won’t be able to sleep without the baby after what happened. I won’t either. We’ll be okay.”

  Cormack still looked reticent but he nodded. “I’ll have an omelet bar in the morning so everybody can bulk up.”

  “Make sure they have tomatoes and mushrooms,” Aisling said sleepily. She looked exhausted, as if the baby’s screams had sucked all the energy out of her.

  “You may have whatever you want tomorrow morning,” Cormack promised, his eyes automatically going to the parlor door as we passed. There, Emmet watched with disappointed eyes, another glass of bourbon clutched in his hand. “We’re going back to the old way of doing things
tomorrow. I’m spoiling you rotten.”

  Aisling brightened considerably. “That’s exactly how I like things.”

  EVEN THOUGH I WAS RELUCTANT TO SLEEP when we had a prisoner to interrogate, I fell out the second my head hit the pillow, Braden spooned behind me. We woke together six hours later in the exact same position.

  “Morning,” he murmured, kissing the ridge of my ear. “How did you sleep?”

  “Hard. I didn’t think I would be able to, but I did.”

  “We were all overwrought,” Braden explained. “Lily screaming like she was being tortured took it out of us.”

  I turned to study his face. He looked well-rested. I ran my finger down his cheek. “You look pretty good for a guy who was outside chasing cultish madmen in the middle of the night.”

  He grinned and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Right back at you.”

  I giggled when his hands moved to my ribs and he started tickling. “Are you sure we have time for this?”

  “It’s fine. I’ll be quick.”

  “That’s nothing to be proud of.”

  “Fine. I’ll be ... thorough.”

  WE WERE A FEW MINUTES LATE for breakfast but, rather than wait, people were already eating when we slid into the room. Emmet and Mary sat in stone-faced silence at the table, no food in front of them.

  “What’s up with the gargoyles over there?” Braden asked as we moved behind Aisling and Griffin in the omelet line.

  “They’re angry,” Aisling replied. Her hair was still wet from the shower. She looked much better than she had the night before. “In their world it’s rude to eat before everyone is seated at the table. We told them to suck it up and that you would be down when you were ready, but they wouldn’t shut up. Even Dad finally told them to be quiet, so now they’re angry.”

  “I think this will be their last visit,” I mused.

  Aisling nodded. “Yeah. Same here.”

  Griffin wrapped his arms around her from behind and buried his face in her hair. They seemed lovey-dovey this morning. I guess it had a little something to do with their traumatized offspring, who appeared happy and bright-eyed as she sat on her grandfather’s lap sucking from a bottle.

  “Hey, Lily.” I smiled as I separated from Braden to check on her, my hand going to her forehead. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “She seems fine,” Cormack said as he cradled his granddaughter. He looked at ease, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but I didn’t miss the way he steadfastly avoided making eye contact with his parents. That was another situation that was about to explode. Fortunately for me I didn’t expect to be here when it happened.

  “Can I take a peek inside her head?” I directed the question to Aisling and Griffin.

  Aisling nodded without hesitation. “If you think it’s important, just do it. You don’t have to ask.”

  “It’s the polite thing to do,” I insisted, grinning for Lily’s benefit as I pressed my eyes shut. “She had a busy brain last night. Let’s see what she shows me this morning.”

  “What did she show you last night?” Braden asked. “I didn’t even ask.”

  “She showed me all of you. She showed me her favorite thoughts of each of you ... and then she let me hear the chanting. That’s when I realized what was going on.”

  “Poor Lily.” Cormack stared into his granddaughter’s placid face. “I think I’m going to buy you a pony.”

  Aisling glared at her father. “Hey! When I wanted a pony as a kid you said it wasn’t practical. You can’t get Lily a pony if I never had one.”

  “I can do whatever I want.” Cormack winked at Aisling. “But maybe I’ll start with a stuffed pony.”

  “That’s probably best,” I said, exhaling heavily as the images in Lily’s head began to coalesce. The first thing I saw was a memory from the previous evening. Aisling and Griffin, each taking up position on either side of a large basket. Lily rested in the middle of the basket and her parents held hands as they wrapped themselves around her. The image made me grin. “She liked the way you slept last night,” I offered.

  “She did?” Griffin dragged a hand through his hair. “I thought that was a bit much.”

  “It was a bit much,” I agreed. “I would only sleep that way for special occasions unless you want her climbing into bed with you every night as soon as she can walk.”

  Griffin and Aisling exchanged weighted looks.

  “It was a special occasion,” Aisling said. “I wanted her close after what happened. She can sleep in her crib tonight.”

  “That’s probably wise,” I agreed, checking the baby’s mind one more time. “Other than that, she seems good.” I straightened and flashed a smile at Cormack. “She would prefer a stuffed giraffe to a stuffed pony.”

  Cormack was flummoxed. “How can you possibly know that?”

  “She just showed me.”

  “Then I know someone who is getting a giraffe,” Cormack teased, tickling his granddaughter’s round belly as she squirmed. For the first time in almost twelve hours, she let out a laugh and everyone at the table — except for Emmet and Mary, of course — exhaled relieved sighs. Everything was going to be okay.

  “Eat up,” Cormack instructed. “Once we’re finished, we’re heading to the basement — and we’re not coming back without answers.”

  BECAUSE OF MY CYANIDE CONCERN, OUR prisoner was stripped down to his boxer shorts before being tossed in the dungeon cage. I wasn’t sure it would hold, but the Grimlocks swore the cage was sturdy. They turned out to be right.

  The man, pasty and lacking in muscle tone, sat on a bench inside the cell as we approached.

  “I demand to be released at once,” he said, hopping to his feet. “You have no right to hold me here. You’re not police officers and I’ve done nothing to warrant arrest.”

  We had a police officer on the premises, but Griffin wisely recused himself upstairs. If he wasn’t privy to what we were about to do, he had plausible deniability. For that reason, he opted to sit upstairs with his daughter, even as Aisling joined us to get our answers.

  “You’re not under arrest,” Cormack responded.

  “Then let me go.”

  The expression on Cormack’s face was dark. “You’re not leaving until we’re satisfied you’re no longer a threat. I don’t foresee that happening anytime soon.”

  “You have no right to hold me,” the man argued. “I’ve done nothing wrong. This is against the law.”

  “Perhaps I’ll be arrested then,” Cormack suggested. “I’m willing to take that risk.” Mayhem etched its way across his face as he stepped closer to the bars. “I want to make sure you’re aware of your predicament.”

  The man sucked in a breath. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “That’s not true. Even if it was, you couldn’t convince me to release you. I’m far too angry for that.” Cormack gripped the bars of the cell and pinned the shaking man with a threatening look. “You’re going to tell us what’s going on. You have no choice. Not only are you going to tell us what you’ve done, you’re going to tell us the best way to stop what’s happening. You have no choice.”

  The man’s lower lip quivered. “I’ve done nothing wrong.” This time when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “You can’t persecute me.”

  It was a strategic word, and I knew exactly how to combat it. “Let me.” Gently, I nudged Cormack away from the bars and focused on the man. “What’s your name?”

  He looked bewildered, but his expression solidified. “I ... none of your business.”

  “Fine.” I closed my eyes and blew out a breath, gathering my magic. Mind magic was tricky, not my strongest suit. Briefly, I wished for the woman from the circus. Poet. Her mind magic was tremendous and I was jealous. But last I heard she was traveling south.

  “What should we do?” I heard Redmond whisper behind me.

  “Be quiet and let her work,” Aisling replied, annoyance obvious. “She’s doing woo-woo
stuff and you’re making it difficult for her to concentrate.”

  “For once — and I never thought I would say this — I agree with Aisling,” Braden whispered. “We need to be quiet and let her concentrate.”

  “For how long?” Aidan asked. “I mean ... I don’t want to be the group whiner, but this basement gets creepier every time we visit.”

  “You really should give this place a spruce, Dad,” Aisling said. “It’s even grosser than when I was a kid. Do you want Lily to have nightmares?”

  “The first person to tell her there are snakes down here gets cut out of the will,” Cormack warned. “I don’t want my granddaughter terrified of her second home. Now, be quiet. Izzy needs to concentrate.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s going to be impossible with everyone whispering behind her back,” Braden snapped.

  I tuned them out. It wasn’t easy, but I was getting accustomed to the monumental task needing to be accomplished every few weeks at this point. They simply couldn’t force themselves to be quiet.

  I concentrated on the man, winding my way through his mind and discovering the answers we needed. It took a concerted effort.

  “His name is Walter Brinkley,” I started in a monotone. “His friends call him Walt. He’s from Grand Rapids.”

  “I’m on it,” Cillian announced, whipping out his phone to start a search on our guest.

  “He’s not a true believer, although ... .” I cocked my head to the side, pushing harder.

  “What do you see?” Aisling asked. “Is he a dirty pervert? He looks like one. If he is, I want to smack him around.”

  “Aisling, this isn’t the time,” Cormack argued.

  “Hey, it’s time to be me.”

  “If you say so. Now shh.” Cormack pressed his finger to his lips. “Let Izzy work.”

  I was in the zone so there was nothing that could shake me from my path. “His wife met Titus at a church event about six months ago.”

  “Is she blond?” Aisling asked.

  I nodded. “He originally thought Titus was trying to seduce her and then ... huh.” I stopped speaking and focused harder.