by Tamar Sloan
“The scumbag isn’t going to talk,” Reign says, turning away in disgust. “If only Avril was here.”
They leave the bathroom, Reign leaving the door ajar. If Dumah finds a way to move, they’ll hear about it.
Back in the kitchen, Mac paces. “He’s so sure,” she mutters, dread like a rock in her gut. She turns to the others. “He said he knew the name of the Innocent.”
“That’s why he’s so cocky.” Reign frowns. “He’s found the key that will open the Gate of Hell.”
Arielle collapses onto a chair. “No,” she moans.
Reign shoots to her side. “Arielle?”
Mac wonders if he’s noticed he’s barely been more than a few feet away from her since they returned.
Arielle looks up at him, her gaze clinging to his. “I think I know who the Innocent is. This is why they’ve been abducting the women.”
Reign stiffens as something strikes him. Realization shoots through Mac a second later.
Arielle’s lip trembles. “It’s my mother.”
32
Arielle
The obelisk punches through the night air, the runes carved into its sides pulsing softly. There’s a hooded man beside it, his arms are held high, a curved blade glinting in the dark.
It’s then that Arielle sees he’s beside a stone table, and that a woman is strapped to it.
No!
He plunges the knife into the still body of the woman and she convulses. Blood courses down from her chest, drawn to the obelisk like a magnet. The moment the rivulets of crimson reach it, it cracks. Although the dream is as silent as it is vivid, the sound is a shockwave through Arielle. That monument protects a Gate of Hell.
She jerks awake before she can see the rest. She already knows how it ends. She’s foreseen it.
Tucked up in the corner of Colt’s couch, she glances around as she tries to get her breathing under control. Reign and Mac are on the other side, Mac’s head on his shoulder, both asleep. On the other side of the room, Arielle can make out Colt and Gabby wrapped around each other on the bed. Gabby’s soft snores fill the air.
Arielle wipes a trembling hand down her face. Colt and Gabby returned from the house Arielle had been held in, saying it was empty, with no signs or clues as to where Kane had gone. It was as if he’d never been there. Even the chains were gone. They ate pizza that Arielle barely tasted before Gabby pointed out they all needed to get some sleep.
Arielle had tucked herself into the couch, the knowledge that her mother is the Innocent crawling through her chest. She’d sat there, eyes stinging with exhaustion and unshed tears, as the breathing in the room progressively evened out.
She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. She tried not to. But fatigue must’ve won.
And now another nightmare is forever branded in her mind. Arielle couldn’t see who was strapped to the table, but she didn’t need to.
She knows it’s her mother.
The nightmares were terrifying and sickening before, but knowing her mother is the one being sacrificed makes it feel like her rapidly beating heart is being torn out of her chest.
Arielle pushes to her feet, then pauses. No one in the room stirs. Good, because she needs some answers. She now knows why she’s been having these night terrors. It’s because it’s her mother who’s the Innocent. Their close bond has meant Arielle is being warned.
She refuses to believe her dreams are foretelling an inevitable future.
She pads to the bathroom, peeking through the cracked door. Cramped and chained, Dumah glares at her from the bath. Heart thumping, Arielle slips in.
“Where is she?” Although she says the words quietly, there’s steel laced through them.
This man, no, this angel, knows where her mother is. He’s the one who signed her death sentence.
Dumah regards her for long moments, his head angled. “Does it really matter?”
“She’s my mother!” Arielle hisses. “Yes, it matters!”
Dumah’s face softens as it settles into lines of satisfaction. “Ah yes, I believe this one is a mother.”
Arielle takes another step in, so much anger pulsing through her that she’s trembling. “Tell me where she is.”
“You cannot stop it,” Dumah says, his voice laced with contempt. “We have the Innocent. We have the blade forged in the bowels of Hell itself. The Gate of Hell will open.”
He turns his head away, letting her know he has no intention of talking. Frustrated and near tears, Arielle leaves the bathroom. She meant what she said. She’s not going to sit back and let this happen.
She’s going to do everything she can to save her mother. She needs to stop her nightmares from becoming reality.
Back in the main room of the basement, Arielle pauses. No one has moved, meaning she didn’t wake them up. Except she’s not going back to sleep, the last terrifying visions are too fresh.
Heading to the door, Arielle decides she’s going to do what her mother would do. Research. She’s just grabbed the doorknob when a hand lands on the door above her. She spins around to find Reign behind her.
“Ah, what are you doing?”
Arielle presses a hand to her thumping heart. She’s not sure if it’s from the surprise she just got, or because of the way Reign looks in the barely-there light—brooding and sexy. He keeps his hand on the door, which means he’s standing far too close for her equilibrium.
“I thought you were asleep,” she says, glad for the need to whisper. It covers up the breathlessness that’s suddenly overtaken her.
“Sleeping isn’t one of my strengths. But you didn’t seem to want an audience.” Reign glances at the door. “Except then you decided to leave.”
“I’m going home,” Arielle says, keeping her voice quiet but firm. She won’t be talked out of this. “I want to look over my mother’s journal again.”
Reign pauses, glancing back at the others. “Good idea.” He removes his hand, and Arielle unwinds. Not only did he just create some space between them, but she doesn’t have a fight on her hands. “I’m coming with you.”
“What?”
“You heard me. It’s not safe for any of us to be out alone right now.”
Arielle chews on her lip, considering his words. Dammit, he’s right. “Fine, then. But if Aunt Shell sees you, you do the explaining.”
Reign grins, making Arielle’s heart trip. “I’ll tell her I really wanted to study again.”
Flushing at her ridiculous lie, Arielle spins around and opens the door. They slip out and silently pad up the stairs. Outside, Arielle hails a ride. It’s not until she and Reign are in the back seat that she realizes she’s alone with him for the first time since her abduction.
She glances at the driver, keeping her voice down. “Reign, about what happened back at the house with Kane—”
“Yeah, Colt’s really something, huh?”
“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say. When—”
“As in, I doubt those two boof heads even heard him coming. Do you think he knocked them out with his, you know…” Reign glances at the driver then makes bird wings with his hands, fluttering them.
“Reign,” Arielle huffs, frustrated. “I’m talking about—”
His brow rumples quizzically. “What do you think that guy can bench press? I mean, to bend those bars like that, it would have to be at least eight hundred pounds.”
Arielle frowns, realizing Reign is being deliberately obstructive and obtuse. He doesn’t want to talk about the fact he volunteered to drink the truth serum.
“We’re here,” the driver announces.
Arielle pays him and they climb out, Reign practically leaping to the curb like his seat was electrocuted. She decides to let the topic go, for now. There’s no way this conversation is over.
Unlocking the door slowly and carefully, Arielle creeps in, Reign right behind her. She doesn’t want to have the talk with Aunt Shell right now. There’s no way she’s going to take Arielle’s decision to be a pa
rt of all this well.
But the house is silent as they make their way to the living room. Arielle turns on the lamp beside the couch, creating a pool of soft light. She indicates for Reign to sit down.
“The journal is on the bookshelf.”
Reign sits, his eyebrows hiking up. “Hiding in plain sight and all that?”
Grabbing the square timber box, she returns to sit next to him. “Not exactly.” She places it on her lap, opening the drawer with the pieces.
Reign draws back. “I’m not a fan of board games.”
“Then you don’t know what you’re missing out on,” Arielle says as she arranges the pieces on the carved squares. Egg in the center. Four pigs around it.
The pieces sink down, followed by a soft click. Reign’s mouth snaps shut as the secret compartment pops open.
Arielle withdraws her mother’s journal. “I’ll teach you how to play another time.”
She opens the leather-bound notebook and is quickly assaulted by words and images. Joseph of Arimathea. Obelisks. Demons with sunken eyes and black holes for mouths. Arielle quickly flicks past them. They’re too similar to her dreams.
Except the pages are blank. Although she knew they were—like her mom never got to finish whatever she was documenting here—Arielle’s still disappointed. They’re going to have to read what little information there is, even though she’s already combed through it. Even though it will only describe everything she’s already seen.
She flicks through the pages right to the end, knowing it’s a desperate act of avoidance, but doing it anyway.
“Hey,” says Reign. “There was something on the last page.”
Arielle opens it to see he’s right. A handful of lines have been scrawled on the last slip of paper.
Reign leans in closer, his scent filling her lungs. “Your mom had a reference section in her journal?” he asks incredulously.
“She was an academic.” Her face softens. “And a little kooky.”
“That explains a few things.”
Arielle stills, but there’s no mockery in Reign’s tone. In fact, there’s a strange softness. As if he likes kooky.
Telling herself there’s kooky, and there’s delusional, Arielle reads the first two words aloud. “Infernal Damasicus.”
Below is a location. Veritas Library.
“I’ve never heard of it,” Arielle muses.
And below the location is an address. 67 Argyle Street. Mercy City.
“That’s not too far from here,” Reign observes.
Arielle taps her finger on the page. “We need to go check it out.”
“It would be shut now, but we’ll go first thing in the morning,” agrees Reign. He pulls back, something flickering in his eyes. He clears his throat. “You should probably get some sleep.”
Arielle glances at the door. The steps that go up to her bedroom are just beyond it. Except she has no desire to go there. She’ll be alone…with the nightmares.
She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”
“Arielle, you need to sleep. You’ve had a big day and tomorrow isn’t looking like it’s going to be in the small category, either.”
She shakes her head again. “Seriously, it’s okay.” She glances at the bookshelf. “In fact, I might read something,” she adds brightly.
She goes to shoot up only to find that Reign has trapped her hand. “You’re scared to sleep, aren’t you?”
Her shoulders sag. “Is it really that obvious?” Could she be any weaker? Gabby would probably want to see the visions so she could kick some ass. Mac would’ve just kicked ass in the first nightmare and they never would’ve come back.
Reign sighs. “Only because I know the signs all too well.”
Arielle glances at him. Reign doesn’t like to sleep? That would explain why he knew she was sneaking in to see Dumah…
He fluffs up the pillow next to him. “Here. Why don’t you just rest? If it looks like you’re going to sleep, I’ll poke you.”
She chews her lip. “Won’t you need to sleep?”
“Not my strong point, remember?”
Arielle hesitates. The thought of the two of them together, here, alone, is…intimate. What’s more, it feels safe.
She lies down on her side, her head on the pillow that’s beside Reign’s thigh. She imagines she can feel his warmth radiating onto her scalp. He shifts a little as if he’s getting comfortable, one arm coming to rest across the back of the couch.
Silence fills the living room, heavy and warm. Despite everything that’s happened, Arielle finds her muscles unwinding, her body sinking into the couch.
“Do you think—”
“No talking,” Reign mumbles grouchily. “I’ve done enough of that today.”
Arielle chews on her lip. Who is this guy? He's gruff and reckless. And yet gentle and loyal. A guy who does nothing but push the world away, at the same time as he helps people he’s only just met. The guy who said she’s beautiful in such an achingly honest way that she couldn’t help but believe him...
The guy who makes her feel safe. She jolts as she realizes she was drifting to sleep.
“You didn’t poke me,” she accuses in a whisper.
“I lied,” he says softly. “Go to sleep, Ari. I’ll keep the boogeyman away.”
Ari… His use of her nickname has something sweet and warm flowing over her. She snuggles into the couch a little deeper, feeling like a cat curled in a stretch of sunshine. Beside her, she hears Reign let out a breath. It sounds as relaxed as she’s feeling.
As exhaustion creeps over her dropped defenses, Arielle knows there’s one more thing she has to say. “Reign, about today.”
“Seriously, it wasn’t a big deal,” he murmurs.
“You had no idea what they were going to give me, and yet you took it anyway.”
It could’ve been poison. He could’ve died.
“The world would’ve gone on without me, Arielle.” She notes the way he uses her full name again. Reign’s putting his serious pants back on. Or his defenses. “It’s really not a big deal.”
Except it is. But for some reason, Reign doesn’t see that.
Which is a puzzle that, suddenly, Arielle very much wants to solve.
GABBY
When Gabby wakes up the following morning, she’s not surprised to find the couch is empty. There’s so much restlessness in Reign and Mac that she doubts either of them remain in one location for very long.
And Arielle seems to have found a new center of gravity with Reign. Although Gabby can sense Reign’s draw to her cousin, she’s not sure whether his darker side will overshadow that…
Colt rolls over, his sleepy eyes blinking at her beneath tousled auburn hair. “They’re gone, aren’t they?”
His demon hearing would’ve already ascertained that there’s only two of them in the room. Gabby cocks her head, sensing Dumah’s simmering frustration in the bathroom. Their prisoner is still with them. Colt has probably heard his breathing by now.
She leans closer to Colt, breathing in his warm, sleepy scent. “It’s just the two of us and—” she wrinkles her nose—“him.”
He frowns. “Why don’t you just kill him?”
Gabby presses her forehead to Colt’s chest, absorbing his strength. “I’m not sure I could ever kill again,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not after what happened with the Grigori.”
Colt’s hands cup her head and nudge her to look at him. “You have a beautiful soul, Gabrielle,” he murmurs.
He leans down to kiss her and Gabby melts with everything she feels for this demon of hers. Their bond should’ve been impossible. It spans the abyss between Heaven and Hell.
Which is what makes it all the more amazing. Wonderful. Sacred.
Colt pulls back, his cinnamon eyes as soft and gooey as her heart feels. “We’ll deal with him later,” he promises. “For now, we need to find Sierra.”
Gabby nods, reality dousing her like ice water. She rolls off th
e bed and walks over to the map. “Except we haven’t found any more leads,” she says, frustrated.
Colt comes to stand behind her and she leans against him, enjoying the feeling of his bare chest. He sighs as he wraps his arms around her. “If only we could trace just one of the vans.”
Gabby leans closer to the map, her eyes narrowing. “Maybe it’s not just the vans that are significant.”
“We’ve looked at the locations of the pins from every angle. There’s no rhyme or reason to them. They don’t create any pattern that we know of.”
Gabby steps out of Colt’s hold, pointing to the pin that marks the place Sierra was taken. “Maybe it’s more about the last place they were seen,” she says, her voice heavy with implication. “The location they were taken from.”
Colt leans closer, his eyes widening. “Argyle Street,” he breathes. “Why would Sierra be visiting Veritas Library?”
They look at each other, their glance full of the implications of that question.
Gabby turns to go grab some clothes. She’s going to miss seeing Colt’s naked chest, but they have a lead. “There’s only one way to find out.”
33
Reign
“Well, isn’t this just downright cozy?” Mac says in a way too chirpy voice.
Reign jolts awake, disorientated for long seconds. He glances down, seeing tousled blonde hair spread across his lap, his arm draped over the smooth curve of a female hip. The smooth curve of Arielle’s hip!
She snaps upright a second later, her head barely missing his chin. “Oh.” She glances at Reign as he withdraws his arm, her eyes widening. “Oh.”
Mac chuckles. “Yeah, oh.”
Reign shoots to his feet, scowling. This is why he doesn’t sleep. You never know what you might wake up to. And a smug best friend is one thing he could do without. “We came here to look at the journal.”
“Ah ha,” she says, crossing her arms. “I came here because I woke up and my cushion had run off.”
