“Is anything ever not off about the people we deal with, Bren?” I asked.
He grinned. “Good point. But this guy seemed more off than usual.”
“I don’t need protection,” I said.
“I know. I really am just being nosy. I want to hear what he says.”
I shook my head, took another sip of coffee. “Fine.”
“Good.” He walked out of the office, and I enjoyed a few seconds of peace before Shanti came in.
“I cannot do this,” she said, holding up the copy of Wuthering Heights I’d left in her room, along with instructions to read it and write a paper on it.
“Yes, you can.”
“This is freaking impossible to read. These characters all seem like jerks, and I can’t even understand what they’re saying most of the time!”
“Give it a shot. You’re smart. You will not regret reading it,” I said.
She sighed. “Can’t I just read, like, Twilight or something?”
I mock-glared at her. “Get your ass out of my office. When’s the last time you sparkled, vampire?”
She walked away laughing. I heard Brennan mutter “Twilight?” as she passed him, and she laughed more. He glanced into my office. “He’s here. Ready?”
I nodded, took another sip of coffee. Then I leaned back in my chair and waited. Brennan led my next appointment into the office, then closed the door behind both of them. Dahael and Bashiok, as always, flanked me. I felt them both stiffen in anger and hate as the man entered the room.
“Angel, this is Devin Branford,” Brennan said, standing behind the chair Branford would be sitting in. Ready. On edge.
I could see why. Branford was a demon. A pretty powerful one, from what I could feel. Not as powerful as me, but he was powerful enough to cause trouble. He stood a little over six feet. Shorter than Bren. But he was solid muscle, biceps bulging under the black t-shirt he wore. He was not an attractive man. Shaved head. Eyes that were nearly black. A hooked nose, cruel-looking mouth.
“Angel. A pleasure to meet one of my kind,” he said, bowing his head to me.
“Thank you. Please, have a seat,” I said, gesturing to the chair. Branford nodded and sat, crossing one leg over his knee.
“Thank you. I would like to offer my condolences on the loss of the Nain Rouge. We did not always see eye to eye.” He glanced back at Brennan. “I remember when you were a teenager. Probably the last time Nain and I faced off. You remember me?”
Brennan shrugged. “Not really. Nain didn’t let me do much fighting back then.”
Branford shrugged, turned back to me. I glanced up at Brennan, who was staring daggers at the demon. Whether Brennan remembered him or not, he clearly did not like him. I’d keep that in mind. Brennan’s instincts about this stuff were usually dead on. And, my first impression of the demon didn’t exactly endear him to me, either.
“So. What can I do for you, Branford?”
The demon looked at me. “Well. There are a few things I can think of off the top of my head.” I felt it already of course. Lust. Ew.
Brennan was ready to rip the demon’s throat out already, and he’d barely been in the room for two minutes. I caught Bren’s eye, hoped he understood to calm the hell down. He seemed to, took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Well. Flattering as that is, Branford, that’s not really what we’re here for,” I said, looking directly at him. Meeting his gaze. He met mine as well, and it was an unspoken challenge. Who would look away first? Stupid battles of wills, looking for signs of weakness.
“I have heard something I think you’d want to know,” he said, still staring back at me. “There are people in danger, and that’s the kind of bullshit you seem to care about.”
“And why bring it to me? It’s not like you care about Normals,” I said, knowing it was true before the words even left my lips.
“No, I don’t. But we’ve all seen the news. The P.D. is onto us. Supernaturals. We have them poking around, they’re eventually going to figure it out. And while I really have no problems steamrolling any nosy cops, having to watch out for them puts a dent in my lifestyle. I figure, come to you with this, save us all some trouble.”
I leaned back in my chair, still holding his gaze. We sat in silence for a few minutes. I let my power roar over him, felt the house tremble around us. He looked away. Victory.
“So, who’s in danger?” I finally asked.
“There’s this group. Coupla witches, warlocks. Couple shifters. They’ve been working the six and Gratiot area for a while now. They started taking women off the streets a week or so ago, keeping them locked in one of those big old houses over there. I don’t know what they’re doing with them, but I can guess, and I bet you can too.”
“How many?”
“As far as I know? Fourteen women.”
I could feel how anxious Brennan was. I caught his eye again, gave a small shake of my head. He nodded. The tension in him did not subside. His jaw was clenched, hands fisted as he crossed his arms over his chest. If looks could have killed, the demon sitting in front of me would have been dead about fifty times over.
“So. You’re saying fourteen women. Held by a few witches and warlocks, shifters. Anything else I should know?”
Branford smiled like a cat who’d just cornered a mouse. Asshole. “I have the address if you want it.”
“That would be great,” I said. He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, set it on the desk in front of me.
“They’re there. It looks deserted, but it has electricity and everything. Real overgrown in front.”
“All right. I’ll take care of it. Thanks for bringing it to my attention,” I said.
“Well, I figured you’d want to know, considering the way you are about finding lost girls,” he said. He was doing a good job of looking sincere.
“Absolutely. Thanks for coming,” I said, dismissing him. Brennan walked him out, Ada reset the wards, and within seconds Brennan was back in my office.
“That bastard was setting you up. You know this,” Brennan said, crossing his arms over his chest. Anger still radiated from him. Along with a strong desire to protect me.
“Of course I know it,” I said. “He looked like he hit the jackpot or something when I said I’d go. I could feel it from him.”
“Okay. So what do we do?”
I stood up, started loading up my pockets. “We?”
“Yeah. We. I know you’re going to go because there are probably really women there to draw you out. And he’s probably lying about how many bads are there. I’m not going to sit here while you walk into god knows what by yourself.” Steely determination in his voice, in his eyes.
“Are you my sidekick now, too?” I asked, putting my sunglasses on.
“You start calling me Robin and you’ll never get a good cup of coffee again, Molly.”
I laughed, then headed out, Brennan close behind me. We got into the Barracuda, imps filling the back seat, and roared through the city toward the neighborhood the demon had specified. Night had fallen, moonless and cold.
We parked a few blocks away from where we needed to be. It’s not like we really had the element of surprise on our side, since they’d feel us long before they saw us. I needed to ask the chief where he’d gotten his amulet. Too late now.
We got out and started walking toward the house.
“Leave the demon to me if he’s there,” I said quietly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Brennan answered. Tension rolled off of his body, ready for a hunt, a fight.
“Do not do anything stupid trying to protect me. I have a healing ability. You don’t,” I continued.
“This is hardly the fist time we’ve fought together, Molly.”
“Just thought I’d remind you,” I muttered.
“You’re sure I can’t go after the demon? I’d really like to put the hurt on him,” Brennan said, a bit of a growl in his voice.
I shook my head. “You can hurt him vicariously through me, how abou
t that?”
“You are no fun at all.”
We reached the house. Exactly as the demon had described it. I sensed for whatever was in the house. The asshole had totally lied to us. There were at least ten supernaturals there, plus him. And they felt me. Fear, anger, worry.
“They know we’re here. Eleven of them, plus several Normals,” I said softly.
He nodded. I glanced at him, met his eyes for a second. He nodded, and we moved.
We charged in and the house exploded in gunshots, roars, howls, and growls. Brennan had already shifted into his cat form, and he was a blur, racing around the room, tearing out throats. My imps used their little teeth, tiny daggers on anyone who got close enough. I found the asshole with the gun, a Normal who was trying to be badass.
“You’re in over your head, son,” I said, grabbing the gun as he shot me in the stomach with it. Healing ability or no, it hurt like hell. I bashed his head back into the wall behind him and he slumped over, unconscious. I pocketed the gun, headed toward where I felt Branford. Basement. Always the fucking basement with these people.
I headed down as Brennan finished dispatching the last of the warlocks in the main floor. I found the bottom step, and saw Branford standing in the middle of the unfinished basement. Women, chained to the concrete walls. Most terrified, crying, but, thankfully, still dressed and alive. Bait.
“You really are a freak son of a bitch, you know that?” I said, strolling casually into the basement, taking in the details as I kept his attention on me.
“I’d love to have you join them,” he said.
“So. What’s the game here? Get me here, down in the basement with you? To, what?”
He held up a remote, grinned. Then he pointed to the corner of the basement.
“Brennan get out!” I screamed. “GO!”
“Oh, he’s got a minute, I think.” He hit the button.
“Have fun trying to get them out, Angel.” He said, laughing as he walked up the stairs.
The women were wailing now, screaming.
I looked around. There were more than he’d said. Seventeen. Their chains were cemented into the walls. The good news was that he’d underestimated how strong I was. That wouldn’t slow me down much.
The bad news was that the fucker had also cemented the women’s feet into the concrete floor.
I looked around for something to break it with. Sledgehammer, hammer, anything.
I heard roars from upstairs, figured Brennan and Branford had met up.
The women were screaming now, most of them either staring at me or the bomb, counting its way down.
I walked to the first one, yanked the chain out of the wall, freeing her hands. I did that with the rest of them. They pulled uselessly at their feet. I tried punching at the floor, resulted in breaking my hand, barely cracking the concrete around one of their feet. They were crying now. Their fear rolled over me, and, just this once, I let it feed me. I’d need whatever strength I could get.
So. Damn. Tired.
Thirty-two seconds.
31…
30….
I picked up a chair, started bashing it against the floor. The chair broke long before the floor did.
“Goddamnmotherfucker,” I shouted, looking around for any other way to free them. Innocent, here because of me.
24…
23…
I had one more chance. I let my power rise over me. Let it roar. It was hungry. I’d let it sit, unused for too long. I let it have free rein now. It thundered, and the house creaked and shook around me. I gave in, let my power reach its max level.
Cracks appeared in the walls, and, thank god, the floor.
I continued to let it roar, and bits of the wall started falling in. The floor was a series of cracks, crumbling now around me and the women.
“Try pulling your feet out. The second you get free, run for the stairs as fast as you can!” I shouted.
The first got free, stumbled toward the stairs. Then another. And another. I felt like I was about to split apart, like if I didn’t let my power free, it would burn me from the inside out. More women freed themselves and ran out.
There were two more, still struggling to free their feet, weeping. Brennan was on the stairs, pulling women up. Damn him for not listening to me.
12…
11…
I ran over to the last two, bashed my fists into the concrete around their feet. It shattered, and shards of concrete went flying. My hands were both limp now, dangling uselessly from my shattered wrists.
“Run!” I screeched.
8…
7…
I shoved the last one up the stairs. She ran fast enough to get up and out. I stumbled on the stairs, the pain in my hands, wrists, and forearms causing my vision to swim. Dizzy. I got up and tripped again, hit my chin on the step above me.
And that was when the air exploded around me, fire washed over me, disintegrating my clothing and turning the world into an inferno. I screamed in agony and heard Brennan screaming my name before everything went black and silent.
Chapter Five
The blackness was inviting. I was aware that I was not dead, and the pain had mostly stopped. It felt more like I was floating in nothingness, suspended somewhere between life and death.
It was peaceful, but I was not yet ready for peace.
Shapes, sounds began to appear, like a movie on an old film-reel projector, flickering, ethereal. Lives I’d never lived, things I’d never seen, yet I knew them just the same. Battles, men in armor, men in loincloths, gods. Lightning cracked the sky, and waves pounded cities to nothingness. Always, amid the chaos, winged women.
Eunomia and her sisters, fluttering around bloody battlegrounds like vultures over roadkill. Winged, terrifying, gnashing teeth and sharp claws.
And then, there were the other winged women. Those of flaming swords, snake-headed whips. Those who avenged the innocent. Merciless. They filled me with pride, with a feral, wild fire that nearly consumed me. They brought evil to its knees, made it beg for mercy.
And they gave none.
They were me, and I was them. My stance, my coldness, my anger. They were unstoppable, ceaseless in deliverance of vengeance. Righteousness, personified. Frightening, intense. Millenia of vengeance, delivered, always the same, tireless.
Responsibility. The weight of the promise, that wrongs would be punished. A sacred oath, given freely and undertaken with the gravity necessary. Protectiveness for those who relied on them/us to do what needed to be done.
I watched it all, removed, yet part of it. It called to me, pulled at my soul, changed the last something in me that had been human.
I’d never been human.
A lie.
My humanity was a farce. Part of me had always known this.
I watched my own evolution.
Nain bringing my more demonic traits to the forefront.
His death, stripping away more of the humanity I wore like a mask.
This death and rebirth by fire, another phase of becoming what I was meant to be.
What I was born to be.
I am a warrior.
I am forever.
I am vengeance.
And I still have work to do.
I floated in nothingness for a while longer, felt life calling me back, slowly but surely. I embraced it, completely.
Chapter Six
“I wish you would leave.”
“I told you. It is not her time. I’m not here to take her from you, shifter.” A pause. “And if I tried, she’d probably punch me.”
A laugh. “How do you know it’s not her time?”
“Because her light has not yet faded. You know her better than anyone. Do you really think something like a little fire can kill her?”
“Yeah, a little fire. An explosion that took out an entire house. I’ve seen fires smaller than that kill demons.”
“You know as well as I do that she is more than a demon.”
; A long pause. “What is she?”
“I am not sure. I have my suspicions.”
Silence. “She’s waking up.”
Another pause. “How do you know she’s waking up?”
“I can feel her.”
“Interesting.”
“Jesus Christ would you two shut up?” I groaned, my throat barely working past the dryness in it. My body was one massive pain. A different kind of burning. Healing. Damn, it hurt to come back from the brink of death.
“Welcome back, my friend,” Eunomia said, brushing a cold hand over my forehead. It felt good against my burning skin.
I struggled to open my eyes. I was in my room, back at the loft. Brennan was sitting in the chair next to the bed, so close his knees were touching the edge of the mattress. His head was bowed, resting in his hands. I sensed for him. Immense relief, fear. Eunomia stood at the other side of the bed, smiling down at me, as she ran her hand through my hair.
Hair?
“Uh. How do I still have hair? Or, anything?” I asked. She poured me a glass of water, put a straw to my mouth. I took a few sips, and it felt like heaven.
“You regenerated all of your skin, a few fingers, and an entire leg. I’m pretty sure hair was not much of a problem,” she said, smiling.
I stared at her. “You’re kidding.”
“No. I am not.”
I looked over at Brennan. “Bren?” I whispered. More freaked out by whatever the hell I was now than ever, the echoes of my visions during my regeneration stirring at the back of my mind.
He looked up at me. He was pale. Dark circles under his eyes. He looked thinner. His hair was wild from running his hands through it, which he always did when he was tense.
“Add explosions to the list of shit that can’t kill you,” he murmured. “You scared the hell out of me, Molly.”
“How long was I out?”
“Four days. Eunomia came and helped me pull what was left of you out of the house. She flew you here.”
Everything came back to me. “The women?”
“All safe. You saved them all.” He dropped his face down into his hand again, rubbed his face. Still terrified.
“Brennan,” I whispered. “You’re afraid of me.”
Broken: Hidden Book Two Page 5
