Page 26 of Devoured By Demons

“Diego?” I mumble around the gag.

“I said don’t make a sound, Isa,” he growls in a low whisper. “Let me get rid of him, then I’ll come help you.”

This is a trick, Isa. Whatever you do, don’t trust him.

With Diego’s warning fresh in my mind, I blink back tears and remain still, not daring to move a single, aching muscle.

I must drift off again, because I’m startled when a gloved hand pushes the hair off my face. “Come on, Isadora, you need to wake up.”

I slowly come to, but wish I was still asleep when I’m rolled onto my back. The ropes around my wrists are untied and pulled off, followed by the gag. I give my jaw precious seconds to recover from the ache before I turn to speak.

Diego stops me. “Don’t,” he warns. “The less we both say the better, trust me on this.”

I nod and rub at the raw skin of my wrists.

“Can you stand?” he asks.

Wincing, I pull my legs up, quickly realizing my pants are back in place. At least my brother had the decency to cover me.

My body protests every movement, but I force myself to my knees, then struggle to my feet. “You’re taking me home.” It’s not a question. Diego will do what he is told. He may have just saved me from Raul, but he’ll never go against my father, and I shouldn’t expect him to.

He swipes the rope and the strip of fabric off the ground. “When we get closer to the compound, I’ll have to put these back on you. Juan will be waiting, so don’t try anything, and I don’t have to tell you not to mention Raul.”

Each step I take is fraught with pain. Inside me, an ache burns into the marrow of my bones. “You could let me go. I won’t come back.”

Ignoring me, Diego walks ahead, deftly stepping over fallen branches and weaving his way through the forest as though he’s done this exact thing a hundred times before.

Behind me, the river splashes and I remember that I wasn’t alone. Not sure I want to know the answer, I ask anyway, “Is Allie dead?”

“Keep up,” is all he says as I’m led back to the compound like a lamb being led to slaughter.

Chapter 9

Demon

The price of the crisp, black suit I’m wearing was fucking ridiculous. Add to that the polished leather shoes, and the gold chains and watch that have me looking like some kind of fucking mafia king, the entire outfit almost broke my bank account. But to play my part, I need tolookthe part, no matter how much I hate it.

“Please don’t do this,” Sara’s soft whisper comes from my left shoulder.

I look into the bathroom mirror, ignore her forlorn expression, and run a hand over my neatly trimmed beard.

By my right shoulder, Azrael stands, hands clasped behind his back, one eyebrow raised. “Never seen you look so…” He shakes his head, then adds, “Clean. Nice choice on the suit.” He nods as though I need his approval.

Again, I turn a blind eye to the spirits in my bathroom and walk out without a second glance. If I ignore them long enough, surely, they’ll get the hint and leave me the fuck alone.

A stab of guilt reaches into the pit of my stomach. There was a time I would have given anything to talk to Sara just one last time. And now all I do is ignore her and wish her away. But she wants something I can’t give. Because this ends with the blood of those responsible for her death.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I tug it out and swipe across to read the message.

Priest: We need to talk.

Priest: You know I won’t let this go.

Priest: She wouldn’t want this for you.

Clenching my fist around my phone, I watch the little text bubbles start and stop a few times, until finally they stop.

I shove my phone back into my pocket, grab my wallet and the briefcase of cash Liam organized for me, and I turn for the door.

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