Sin so did not want to go back to the hospital. Her brothers were asses, and the whole place gave her the creeps.
The only positive thing that had happened lately was sex with Conall and outing him for making that bet. The two-sixty she’d gotten out of it would buy her a new pair of Fae-crafted stun darts.
Except… she wouldn’t need them, would she? She was almost done with Deth, and then she could… what?
Something splashed painfully in her stomach, as if a stone had been skipped across a lake of acid. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Since the age of twenty, she’d never been free, unowned, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do with herself if she suddenly had no orders.
She stepped out of the Harrowgate and into the emergency department… and right into chaos. Shade and Eidolon were rolling around on the ground, throwing punches and, as far as she could tell, not holding anything back.
Conall and Luc were watching, each holding a handful of bills. Another bet. Wonder how I can get in on that one. Conall’s molten silver gaze locked with hers, and she took a sudden, hot breath. He was every woman’s fantasy, from his perfect body to his remarkable eyes to his dangerous masculinity. Nice girls would tremble before him, even as they entertained wicked, private fantasies. Bad girls would make those fantasies reality any time, anyplace.
Sin was a bad girl.
And her inner bad girl—well, her inner demon—was itching to do anything that might get in her brothers’ faces.
Fucking one of their paramedics might just be the ticket. Plus, as she’d already learned, sex with Conall wasn’t exactly a hardship.
The battle raged as she crunched all the delicious possibilities in her mind, until suddenly, Shade rolled away from Eidolon, clutching his stomach, his mouth open in a silent gasp. Sin instinctively stepped forward to help, and was surprised when Eidolon did the same. They’d been fighting as though they hated each other, were bloody and bruised, but the fear in Eidolon’s expression left no doubt that they were not enemies.
“Shade?” Eidolon was on his knees next to his brother, his dermoire glowing. “What is it? Dammit, Shade, talk to me!”
Shade shoved to his knees. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Runa. She’s… she’s… in trouble.” He struggled to his feet and lurched toward the Harrowgate. “E. Send Tay to my place. The house. Fucking hurry!”
Eidolon wasted no time in fishing his cell phone from his pocket as Shade disappeared into the gate.
Sin had no idea what had just happened, but a sinking feeling told her this was just the beginning of something horrible.
Eighteen
The female named Runa sprawled in a rapidly spreading pool of blood, Lore’s knife impaled in her gut. She’d tried shifting into a warg, but Rariel had been prepared, and he’d jabbed her in the neck with a silver pin.
Don’t kill her, Roag said. I want her to live. To suffer for the rest of her life, forever hearing her children’s screams and knowing they died in excruciating pain.
Rariel had to hand it to the demon—he was sneaky as shit, tricking Idess into flashing him to Shade’s old apartment. From there, he’d hoofed it over here and slipped inside when Runa opened the door.
Rariel kneeled next to her and adjusted the ski mask he wore to conceal his identity. The bitch had wrenched it askew in her struggles. “I’m going to kill your cubs now.”
He gently smoothed his knuckles over her face in an odd, impulsive need to comfort her despite what he was saying. He despised that about himself, the little glints of goodness that hadn’t yet been corrupted by the evil surrounding him. Fortunately, they didn’t last long or happen often.
“You’ll hear their cries,” he continued, “but you can do nothing about it. I’ll take one of them, and you will tell Shade that I will trade him for Kynan. If you don’t hand over the human within twenty-four hours… use your imagination.”
She let out an agonized cry and tried to claw her way toward the stairs. He admired her pluck, for all the good it would do her.
Leaving her to bleed, Rariel followed the sound of wailing babies. They were at the top of the stairs, three of them, in a nursery decorated in deep blues and greens. Though toys littered the floor and animal murals covered the walls, the room was in no way set up like a frilly human nursery. Still, from the two rocking chairs to the daybed where it was obvious one or both parents had lain with the infants, the room was a testament to the love Runa and Shade shared for their offspring.
Regret turned Rariel’s stomach inside out, but after a single, shaky breath, he got over himself and lifted the loudest child out of his crib.
The thing bit him. Maybe wringing his little neck wouldn’t be so hard after all.
“Runa!” Shade’s shout carried up the stairs, and so did the pounding of feet. Shit.
Go, Roag said. I’ll slip into the Harrowgate with them. I want to watch Shade’s misery.