If this evening was anything like the previous one, then she’d be back on earth, wreaking havoc on the righteous. He straightened his posture and strode down the hall. He could only hope history repeated itself.
He found his human servants clustered in his conference room. They’d dragged some additional screens inside, and each played a different news clip. Unfortunately, none of them were of his soulmate.
“Any sign of her?”
“None since you went to sleep.”
Not surprising, but damn him and his illogical hope. He’d gotten so used to being around her that every second that ticked by without her was one he lamented.
My mate was right to be worried, Andre thought as he watched the news. Mortal news. For the last several centuries, the supernatural world had done a decent job cloaking itself from regular humans. But now it’d spilled over.
On the screen, demons set fire to buildings, dragged people out of their cars and high into the air only to drop them. Some had attacked leaders and important political figures. And what they weren’t doing, their human servants were. Organized crime had apparently ballooned within the last day.
Andre stroked his lower lip as he watched, his brows furrowed. Something larger than Gabrielle was going on, something she may or may not know about.
“The seer and the fairy?” he asked one of his men.
“They left hours ago.”
Andre turned to him. “Where did they go?”
“Sir, we don’t know.”
“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?” Andre’s voice had gone quiet.
The man flinched, hearing the promise of violence in it. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.
Andre helped him. “The next time those two leave without a tail, I will hold you personally accountable.”
Andre’s phone rang. His mouth tightened when he saw who was calling.
“Where is she?” he answered.
“In a half hour, I’ll have instructions for you,” Leanne said. “If you want to ensure Gabrielle’s safety, I’ll need you to follow them to the letter. Until then, stay at Bishopcourt.” The line died before he could demand answers. He dialed her number only to be sent straight to voicemail.
My God, did no one fear him anymore?
Andre squeezed the phone tightly, then threw it across the room. It hit the wall, shattering into bits of plastic and metal. He threaded his hands over his head and stalked back and forth.
How dare she ask him to just wait. He stormed out of there. He needed to kill someone.
Gabrielle
Heat scorched me as my body forced its way up, my cold skin drinking it in greedily. Magic and power vibrated through me.
Since I’d arrived in hell, I’d wondered what exactly I was—not quite a vampire, not quite a siren or a human.
I understood now. My existence was a twist on the myth of Persephone, who supposedly came to earth for half the year. Instead of half the year, I came for half the day. I bet if I timed it too, it would be near twelve hours exactly.
Damp earth pushed me out, and I gasped in a lungful of air. Beneath me the ground shuddered, as though it wanted to throw me off its back. My hands dug into grass and soggy soil as I hunched over and caught my breath. The place smelled like old bones and rot and … my friends.
“Took you long enough, Corpse Bride,” Oliver said.
I looked up to see him leaning against a large tombstone.
He eyed me and whistled. “Girl, you put the ho in hobo.”
“Knock it off Oliver,” Leanne said. She knelt off to the side, tarot cards spread out before her, the knees of her jeans already soaked from kneeling for too long.
“What? I’m just making an honest observation.”
From my surroundings, it looked like we popped up in a cemetery. I shivered, and not from the early evening chill.
The sense of not belonging was worse today. I hated that I felt more like myself in the pits of hell than I did here.
I bowed my head, letting my hair curtain in front of me as my face crumbled. The need for violence called to me. I knew it was tied up in the devil and the sick bond between us, a bond that even after only two days I was tired of fighting.
“Gabrielle?” Oliver called, the sassiness gone from his voice.
“Give her a moment,” Leanne said.
I removed my hands from the dirt, noticing that the grass near them flattened out. A wave of rage swept through me at that, and I breathed in and out through my nose, trying to control the dark emotions flooding me. After several seconds the anger dissipated.
“Where are we?” I cleared my voice after I spoke, my voice hoarse.
“Saint Keverne’s Cemetery, Oldcastle, Ireland,” Oliver answered. “Seems as though you like to show up along Otherworld entrances.”
That made some sick sort of sense. Otherworld entrances were those areas where realms overlapped, points on ley lines where creatures could travel between worlds and within one.
“And what does the mother of demons want to do tonight?” Oliver asked. “Imprison more Politia members, create more little demon babies? Go get drunk and yell at random people—that’s my personal choice.”
I focused on Oliver. Yesterday I’d run around, first meting out vengeance, and then returning to my soulmate—