His Darkest Salvation (30 page)

A chill swept across her skin, and Jaden shivered. “It won’t take long.” She shook her head and looked up at him. “So we better get this right and get it done.” Her gaze swung back to the monitors. “Or this will be nothing but a solid mass of crimson.”

A few moments of silence passed. She cleared her throat. “Where are the others?”

Julian shrugged his shoulders. “I was waiting for you.”

She tried not to show how surprised she was at his words but seriously doubted she’d been successful. Why would he wait for her? She felt a jolt of pleasure, which was silly, considering that it was, in reality, a small gesture.

But to Jaden it was huge.

“This way.” Jagger nodded toward a corridor to their right. She and Julian followed, and they trekked down the hall until they came to a door that required extra security measures. She waited patiently as Jagger activated the mechanism, and once the door slid open, they all stepped through into yet another world entirely.

Jaden wrinkled her nose as the subtle stench of magick greeted her. It was tinged with a hint of darkness, and she was puzzled by the signature as she continued to follow Jagger through a series of checkpoints.

She wasn’t familiar with it but recognized the potency of the energy in the air. Someone down here was practicing powerful magick, and it wasn’t all good.

They stopped in front of a door, and it was opened almost immediately. Jagger and Skye entered, then Jaden followed suit, with Julian close behind.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the far end of the large room. Inside a glass-encased prison a man stood. His arms and feet were bound to the post in the center, and his face grinned wickedly as he stared out at them all.

There was blood on the floor, and she could tell he’d been tortured, his body showed obvious signs.

“Who the hell is that?” she asked, striding forward.

“His name is Tom,” Jaxon said.

“Tom?” she asked, her tone biting. “Who the hell is Tom?”

Julian was at Jaden’s side, and they both walked the last few steps until they stood near the secured room.

The man on the inside continued to stare at them with a crazed expression gripping his features. His eyes seemed unfocused, and Jaden whispered, “Can he see us?”

“No.” Jagger angled up alongside her. “He knows we’re here, but he can’t see anything other than his own stinking reflection.”

“Who is he?” Julian asked.

“He’s one of Cormac O’Hara’s soldiers, otherworld and definitely demon influenced.”

“He’s one of O’Hara’s inner circle,” Jaxon interjected.

“And you know this because?” Jaden asked, curious.

“He carries the mark,” Declan murmured.

Jaxon nodded. “Everyone in his inner circle does.”

“So what’s this intel?” Julian asked. His tone was clipped, and Jaden knew he was fast losing patience. They both were.

“I know you’re out there.”

Jaden glanced toward the prisoner. His eyes looked glassy, as if he were high. The man began to shudder, his chest heaving with the effort it took as he pulled air into his lungs. After a few seconds, he turned to them once more, his body bathed in sweat, and spit at them, as if he could see them, shouting furiously. “When the legions of darkness invade this realm, you will all be damned.”

Declan waved his hand. “Blah, blah, blah.” And the man was silenced once more.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the show and all, but do you know where my fucking father is or not? I’m assuming that’s why you hauled our asses clear across two countries.” Declan looked to the Castille brothers.

Jaden stepped closer to Julian, not even realizing she’d done so until her foot nudged the hardness of his boots.

Julian paid her no mind, his focus entirely on his brothers. “Where is he?” His words were controlled, precise, yet Jaden felt the tremors that ran underneath his skin. They were reflected in the energy that shimmered in the air around them.

“Well, I hope you’re all feelin’ lucky, boys, because as soon as Jaxon gives the go-ahead, we leave for Vegas.” Absolute silence greeted Jagger’s words.

“Las Vegas?” Declan asked incredulously. After a few moments, a wide smile cracked the tense set of his face, and he turned to Julian. “Un-fucking-believable, yet so perfect.” His dark eyes glittered though his voice was devoid of emotion.

The two men looked at each other, and Jaden saw their torment clear as day.

Declan nodded and looked past them to the prisoner inside. “Well, hello, Sin City,” he said softly, and, with one twist of Declan’s wrist, the prisoner stopped moving.

Permanently.

D
eep in the bowels of Black Magick, Las Vegas’s newest casino, the air was bitter cold. It was a massive space befitting the large casino overhead, and was used for two things—storage and torture.

At the very back, tucked away and camouflaged behind a shield of magick, was a room. Inside, a lone male exhaled a mist of air that lingered for several seconds before evaporating into nothing. He was bare of clothing save for a tattered pair of jeans that hung low on his lean hips, and he shivered constantly. His feet were wet, and the harsh light that shone down on him was relentless.

It was a miserable, painful existence but one the man had grown accustomed to.

For six long months he’d been held captive, tortured beyond what any human would ever be able to endure, and even most who claimed the mantle otherworld. And he would survive. He had to. There was so much left to do.

The door slid open, and the voice he hated above all others slid into the space, echoing eerily against the iron-infused walls.

“Well, my old friend, are you going to make me happy today?”

His eyes opened slowly, the long lashes sweeping upward as black bled into the gold around his irises. He watched, careful to keep all expression from his face, as Cormac O’Hara stepped inside.

The silver of the man’s hair glistened against the never-ending light from above, and the skin of his face was smooth, free from wrinkles. He looked good, for an old son of a bitch. Cormac smiled then and walked forward to within an inch of his face. O’Hara was so close he could see the tiny blood vessels in his eyes.

He could smell the depravity that Cormac had ingested for lunch.

He tensed, though it took great pains to remain still. He was frozen, a macabre marionette with no will of his own other than what was locked deep inside his mind. His arms were spread wide as if they were wings, which was sadly ironic.

Considering his origin.

“I am running out of patience, my friend.” O’Hara smiled then, his tone soft, cajoling. “Are you not tired of this game? Tell me where the portal is, and I can end it.”

His muscles bunched and he gritted his teeth as his mind closed.

Cormac shook his head. “Very well, Azaiel, let’s dance.”

The sorcerer raised his hands and grinned wickedly as energy flew from his fingers. It hit the fallen’s flesh and sizzled along his frame in a shower of light.

There was no sound to be heard other than the scream that ripped through Azaiel’s mind, to echo inside his skull.

It was the first of many, and they would last for hours to come.

Chapter 22

S
now continued to fall though the intensity of the storm had subsided. Julian watched the flakes drift through the night sky, like tiny jewels in the air. He sat alone in the great room located at the back of his brother’s home. The entire wall was glass and allowed him an unobstructed view of Lake Muskoka.

His first thought was that the compound was vulnerable to attack, being on the water. Jaxon had assured him measures had been taken, and strong protection wards were in place.

He sighed and stretched back into the leather sofa. To his right, a fireplace burned, casting an arc of heat. He welcomed it, felt his body relax.

He was finally alone, and the solitude was exactly what he needed. Tomorrow, they headed to Sin City, and he was ready. The crack inside him was getting larger, and he knew there wasn’t much time.

His brothers had attempted to reconnect with him, but he’d not been interested. He’d tried. The white noise that pounded inside his head had made listening difficult, and he didn’t think he’d been entirely successful in hiding his disinterest.

After a while, they’d given up and retreated with their women to wherever the hell they slept. Jagger apparently still had the cabin in Jersey and was only here because of the crisis.

Their attempt at a family reunion had been awkward. He wasn’t going to take it personally. Some things were meant to remain broken.

Even little Logan had steered clear of him, happy to fool around with Finn and Nico while Julian watched from the sidelines. Jaden had disappeared soon after, and within an hour, he was alone.

Yeah, he was the life of the fucking party.

He saw lights twinkling across the lake, small beacons tucked in amongst the thick forest that blanketed the shoreline, and he imagined families grouped together for the holidays. Christmas was still several days away, yet the house looked like a bloody elf had exploded green and red everywhere.

Decorations filled every nook available, and a magnificent tree glittered in the corner, decorated, and quite thoroughly, with a host of different things, including many that were handmade.

There was an entire series of jaguars and eagles sprinkled along the branches, and they’d obviously been made by a young hand. It brought a rare smile to his face. Logan.

His family had always been fractured—his father and mother barely tolerated each other—and he had no real memory of togetherness at holiday time. Long before he walked the earth, the jaguars honored their god of war, Huitzilopochtli, but as time marched on, Christmas had slowly been integrated with their traditions.

His thoughts strayed back to his family, such as it was. His brothers were worlds away from where he was. They’d both found their mates and were looking forward to a life that included domestic bliss.

And he, well, he was just trying to get through, to make it to the other side and hopefully save the world while he was at it. His belly tightened at the thought of what still needed to be done. He sank deeper into the leather and closed his eyes as he listened to the quiet.

It was hard, sometimes, to hear such a thing, to have the quiet become louder than the chaos that lived inside his head. After a while, he adjusted and felt himself relax.

He must have dozed off and come awake with a start, the smell of her already inside him. He knew she was there. Jaden.

He sat up and wiped sandman from his eyes, thinking for the first time there’d been no nightmares. No visions of terror.

“Hey,” she said softly. She was perched on the edge of the sofa, her hair loose and falling over her shoulders like ripples of licorice. Her dark eyes were overlarge in a face that was somber.

“How long you been here?” he asked sharply.

Her face changed, the softness disappearing, and she straightened her body. “A couple of hours,” she answered, her eyes staring down at him intently.

A couple of hours? She’d been watching him for a couple of hours?
He didn’t know what to say.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said again as she got up from the sofa and crossed over to the still-twinkling Christmas tree. The wash of color amongst the green glowed in the near-dark room, and he watched as she touched several of the decorations.

“It’s nice,” she said.

“It’s pine, I think.”

She snorted. “The tree is lovely, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

“What then?”

“It’s nice that Libby and Jaxon were reunited with their son. That all the pain and shit they went through was worth it.”

He studied her profile and saw the emotion that was there. Something inside him broke loose, and he nearly stood, so great was his desire to go to her. And yet he held back. Some cold piece of reality had clicked into place and kept him still.

“I used to love Christmas,” she murmured so quietly he had to strain his ears in order to hear properly. She grabbed a small paper jaguar and studied it closely. “He’s good.” She looked back at him, “Your nephew. An artist in the making.”

Julian nodded, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. “When did you start hating Christmas?”

Jaden stilled, her gaze dropping to the floor, and she shrugged her shoulders. “Things changed for my family when I was nine. Something happened to my father.” She turned away from him and walked over to the glass wall and placed her hand upon it as she stared off into the darkness.

“What?” He was up before he could command his body otherwise and across the room before she took another breath. Their eyes met in the window, her reflection painful to see.

His hand rose as if to touch her, then, slowly fell back to his sides. She looked away.

“Jakobi was touched by evil. I have no other explanation. Was it demon? Magick? I don’t know. I can’t pinpoint one moment in time. It was a gradual thing. He became convinced my mother was having an affair, they fought constantly, and in the end, she left.” Jaden slowly shook her head, her voice was tremulous. “Took me with her, and we went to live with her family.”