Sin handed over Stryke. “I will. And I’ll expect you to grovel at his feet and ask forgiveness when I prove you wrong.” She glanced at Wraith as though she had something to say to him, but after a brief shake of the head, she took off, disappearing into the Harrowgate.

The moment she was gone, Shade hugged Stryke close and rounded on E, whose face was sallow, his gaze haunted.

“This is your fault,” he snarled. “You son of a bitch, that bastard nearly killed Runa, and he has my son because you refused to do what was necessary.” Shade’s hands shook with the need to strike out, but instead he tightened his grip on his son. “If I didn’t need you to take care of Runa, I’d tear you apart right now.”

“You need to back off, Shade,” Tayla said, her voice low and calm, so as not to frighten the babies, but the underlying warning was clear. “Before you say something you’ll regret.”

“There are a lot of things I regret,” he said, never taking his eyes off Eidolon, “but trust me, nothing I say here will be one of them.” He turned to Wraith, who looked as pissed as if his own child had been taken. “I can’t leave Runa or the babies, and I don’t trust Sin to do anything but tell Lore to run. Find him, Wraith. Find him, kill him, and bring back my son.”

Nineteen

Sin sprinted down the assassin den’s narrow halls, her weapons clanking against her hip, her br**sts, the small of her back. She had to find Lore. Had to see for herself that he wasn’t responsible for what had happened to Runa and the baby.

Not that she had any doubt. Lore would never harm a child. He’d been hired or ordered to kill them before, and refused… actions that had resulted in days of bleeding at the hands of Deth’s special torturers. The ones he called Peelers.

Sin shuddered and silently cursed Deth and his unholy minions.

But what if Lore had taken the child as leverage, with no plans to harm it—just to frighten Shade into giving up Kynan? She couldn’t imagine his being so ruthless as to hurt Runa like that, and he certainly wouldn’t be sloppy enough to leave his dagger behind, but…

Oh, God.

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Her sprint turned into an uncontrolled mad dash. She ran wildly through the den, bouncing off walls and knocking over Sunil, a tiger shifter with an unusually docile nature. He didn’t even curse at her when she sent him sprawling. Lycus, however, did. The male warg had always despised her, and his nasty promise of retribution clocked hang time in the icy air as she ran.

Ahead, the door to Deth’s chamber opened, and in the pale orange light streaming from the opening, a dark figure threw a large shadow. Encased in black robes, he swept down the hall, away from Sin, but not before she caught a glimpse of something squirming in his hands.

A tiny, pale foot draped over the crook of his arm. “Rade,” she whispered.

Heart pounding, she sprinted toward the demon. “Hey! Stop!” The male cast her a hateful glare over his shoulder, picked up his pace, rounded a corner… and vanished.

Shit! Furious, and on the verge of freaking out, she hauled ass to Detharu’s chamber, where her master was near the hearth, na**d and observing as a new female Drekevac assassin was being held down by two guards and forcibly fitted for a tongue piercing. Deth’s eyes were bright, his c*ck swollen, and Sin knew the female on her knees was in for a rude introduction to the world of the Detharu brotherhood.

“Yo. Deth. Where’s Lore?”

“Below. He’s free to go.”

She blinked. “Can he be moved?”

“He will be healed.”

Thank God. She cleared her throat. “The male who just left. Who is he?”

“Rariel?” Deth reached out to stroke the female’s spiny head as her jaw was forced open. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.” He cut a sharp wave of his hand. “Be gone.”

His tone left no room for argument—he’d already been much more helpful than she’d expected, probably because he was distracted by his new acquisition. That, and all his blood had run south and left him stupid.

“Just one more thing… the infant. Was it his?”

Deth’s head swiveled around as if it was on a ball bearing, and she knew she’d gone too far. “One more word, and you will join Ystla on her knees.”

The female cried out as the piercing punched through her tongue. Sin had escaped that fate years ago, thanks to a loophole in her contract—a loophole Deth had since found a way around. Sin definitely didn’t want him to take advantage of his underhanded maneuverings now.

“And remind your brother that time is running out for him to deliver the human’s head.”

She nodded just deeply enough to satisfy his need for bowing and scraping, and headed for the staircase that would lead to the dungeon below.

* * *

“Lore?”

Lore groaned at the sound of Sin’s voice, groaned more as she cut him down from the beam he’d been hanging from. “Where’s Idess?” he croaked. His throat was as raw as if he’d been screaming for days, and his jaws ached from avoiding doing just that. “Where?”

“Where you left her, I’d assume.” Sin eased him to his knees in the pool of his own blood and held a cup of water to his parched lips.

Yes… that’s right. He’d left her at his house. She’d wanted to be with him, and he’d turned her down. He’d risked rage instead of stripping her to the skin and taking her as he should have.

Can’t have her. She’ll die.

But he needed her. The rage was running through his blood like motor oil, thickening and becoming more and more contaminated the longer it kept circulating.

“She’s going to be pissed at me.” He fell forward to his hands and knees as the room spun. His thoughts spun, too, all running together until he wasn’t sure what were memories and what were fantasies. “She’s how I got through this, Sin. I kept thinking about her. I can’t have her, but I kept thinking about her and I know she’s mad and f**k I’m babbling.”

“Little bit.” She nudged his lips with the cup. “Don’t worry about that right now. We’re leaving.”

“Deth’s not finished with me.” The torturer hadn’t worked her way to Lore’s front side yet, and there was still an entire rack of tools that hadn’t been used. Nope, Lore had several hours of pliers-in-fun-places still to come.

“Deth said you can go.”

“Why?” He gulped the cool water gratefully, but spat out a mouthful when a horrible thought came to him. “What kind of deal did you make with him?”

“None.”

Pain made him grumpy, and he swatted the cup away to get her attention. “What are you not telling me?”

The fact that Sin didn’t scold him for his uncharacteristic display of temper told him that this was going to be bad. Suddenly every one of the lacerations on his back felt as if it had its very own heartbeat.

“Shade’s mate was nearly killed, and his son taken.” Sin’s voice was grave. “You’ve been framed for it.”

“Dammit.” The rage in his blood turned to sludge, and his muscles started to twitch as though wanting to punch through his skin. “Goddammit!” Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and wondered how he was going to get out of this mess. “Did you tell Wraith I need to talk to him? If he can get inside Deth’s head—”

“Uh… did you miss how I said you were framed? I’m thinking you should avoid your brothers right now. At least until we get proof that you aren’t responsible.”

“I need them more than ever, Sin.” And wow, he never thought he’d say that.

“No, you don’t. I think I know who did it.”

Lore whipped his head around to stare at his sister. “Who?”

“Dude named Rariel. I saw him come out of Deth’s chamber with Rade.”

“Long black hair? Robes?”

“Yep.”

Son of a bitch. He’d known that a**hole had been up to something. “You need to tell our brothers.”

“They won’t believe me. They’ll think I’m lying to save you.”

She was probably right. “Do you think you can find him?” His sister was one of the best trackers in the den.

“You bet. I’ll meet you at your place in an hour. I should have a lead by then.” She smiled grimly. “In the meantime, sharpen your weapons.”

His muscles rippled hotly again, and he gnashed his teeth, breathed through them as he held back the darkness that wanted to get out and swallow a whole lot of people.

The door to the pit creaked open, and an unfamiliar blond Seminus entered. “I’m Tavin. Detharu sent me to heal you.”

This was a first, but Lore wasn’t going to complain. “Just don’t touch my dermoire,” he said to the Sem. He didn’t know if it would kill the guy or not—Lore’s brothers and sister were immune, but he didn’t know if it was because they were siblings or because they were Seminus demons, and he didn’t want to test that right now.

“If you can knock me out while you’re healing me, do,” Lore gritted out. “Otherwise, we’re looking at a shitload of trouble.”

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sin asked quietly, and Lore nodded.

Tavin cocked a blond eyebrow. “What’s he close to?”

“Gutting you with his teeth. And that’s just for starters.” Sin stood. “Put him out, or you won’t have a chance to wish you had.”

* * *

Lore woke, completely healed and lying on the ground outside the Harrowgate near his house. Someone had even cleaned him off and dressed him. Probably Sin. She’d nursed him through a lot of beatings.

The rage still burned in him, but whatever Tavin had done during the healing had eased it a little. The fact that he was no longer in pain helped a lot, too.




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