Page 27 of A Spark Of Revenge

“While we were fucking!?” the girl shrieks, making me grunt and bring my hands up to cover my ears as they ring from the shrill sound. Valen’s eyes start to darken again, probably with jealousy from finding out Creed bedded the whelp before he could.

I lower my hands and let out a long sigh, I’m surrounded by idiots.

“No! I mean… Well, yes. But you were sleeping, we weren’t fucking, and I was positive I felt your Dream Walker magic and needed to make sure,” Creed says with a smile like what he just said was going to help his situation. I shake my head in secondhand embarrassment as Meyer blinks at Creed.

“You needed to make sure…” Meyer says slowly, her tiny hands fisting into even smaller balls as she places them on the curves of her hips. “You’re an asshole, Creed! Who the hell takes blood from a girl they just slept with to see if she can be your blood sacrifice? I thought…” she trails off and shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter what I thought. It was all a fucking lie!”

“No!” Creed shouts, jumping forward, his hands outstretched like he’s about to pull her into his arms.

“Okay, we all need to calm down for a moment and try to get on the same page here,” Valen interrupts, closing his eyes while running a hand down his face. For the first time, I see his perfect mask slip, showing the exhaustion he’s been hiding under it. My chest constricts, and I growl when my beast tries to claw to the surface.

As much as I hate to admit it, I missed my brother. It's been four long years since I last saw him. The stress of trying to locate him across the veil, then come up with a plan to save him—without knowing if it was all in vain—had taken a toll on my brothers and me; but from the looks of it, Valen has suffered tenfold. There are dark rings under his eyes, his hair looks duller than I remember, and his hand trembles with exertion from just standing there. My eyes move from my brother to the girl, who looks better than before, but still looks like she’s been through hell over the past couple of days.

“You need rest,” Nox commands, his sharp eyes running over Valen, his shoulders tensing like he too, can see under the mask that our brother has constructed. Valen hesitates, then nods, his attention on the girl who is watching us quietly.

“We need to go home, but Meyer wants her friend back,” Valen says softly, his attention never leaving her.

“We can't leave yet. I have taken over the North American Stronghold, Valen. The Umbra Hunters have become more corrupt than we first thought, and it's only gotten worse over the time you have disappeared. They are creating rifts in the Veil, allowing the Beastia and Therion to travel into the human realm, then offering the humans up as bait in order to trap Demons and steal their magic,” Nox growls. Valen’s eyes triple in size as he finally looks away from Meyer.

“How?” Valen asks in alarm.

“They are receiving demonic help. The legion of Beastia that came through had two demonic Wraiths with them,” Nox admits in a grave tone. “Both of them escorted by Versipellis shifters.” Valen staggers back like the words are a physical blow, and Creed looks a little green. If things ended up being as they appeared, the Wraiths helping the Hunters would be the highest of betrayals in our world. Something that would hint at a betrayal close to our family since only someone from the Darakh family can command the Wraiths.

“Father?” Valen asks in obvious confusion.

“Has been made aware,” Nox says with a sigh.

“And where the hell is he? The Beastia will destroy this world! They will obliterate it without a second thought if left unchecked. Mother will be devastated!” Nox shakes his head, swallowing as he looks at Creed and then at me.

“A lot has happened since you were lost, brother,” Nox whispers, making Valen frown. The reminder of Archer's death is like an arrow in my heart, the hot pain tears through me and makes Nox grunt and pale, no doubt sensing my pain. “I’ll explain it all to you, but for now, we need to prepare the castle for war. The Seniorem and their army will be here in a matter of days and will obliterate any Ranger or Hunter that doesn't side with their corrupt beliefs.”

“What?” Meyer gasps, making four sets of eyes dart to her in surprise. Shit, I forgot she was here. “The Seniorem is going to attack the castle?”

THIRTEEN

Meyer

Is it possible for a brain to implode from so much information combined with so many unanswered questions at the same time? Because I’m pretty sure that’s where I’m at. The word Demon keeps rolling through my mind, and I start to feel sick. Could I really be a Demon? No, nope, I can’t think about that right now, I’m going to throw up if I do. Thankfully, my head doesn't feel like it has a pulse anymore, which is allowing me to keep up with the brothers as they talk. Brothers… fucking brothers! I knew Valen was acting weird, but I never would’ve guessed he was a Regalis brother.

Wait, no, that's not right. What did he say the king of Hell's last name was? Darick… Darren? Shit, I need some sleep so I can try to figure everything out. I’m stuck between wanting to run out of this castle as fast as possible and being too tired to go anywhere. When Razar first threw me over his shoulder, I was consumed with fear. Yet as I stand here watching the brothers argue, my fear dissipates, and I’m left with an empty feeling of loneliness.

Who the hell do I trust? Can I keep trusting Valen, knowing that he purposely kept information from me? I glance at Creed, who is staring at me with what I can only describe as puppy dog eyes—his wordless plea for me to allow him to explain himself heavy in the air. But I’m not sure how much that will help.

Let's say I believe everything the guys are saying… which honestly is pretty easy, considering I have seen firsthand what the Seniorem has done with humans. Let's say that they are the good guys here and are trying to help… But the problem is that they were still planning on using me. They let me believe everything the Seniorem was saying was true and planned on using my blood to break into the church. They weren't even going to fucking ask for it! I bet Lennox had already planned on tying me up and forcing me to do what he needed. And if what Razar said was true, he didn't care that I might have died in the process.

That thought alone makes me wince, my throat constricting from the sharp pain in my heart. I shouldn't feel this way… I hate Nox! I hate him so fucking much. So why does it hurt so damn badly that he was willing to sacrifice me to get what he wants? Looking at Valen, I suppose I can see why he wanted to. If I had a brother, how far would I go to keep him safe?

Why hadn't they just talked to me? Hell! I asked Lennox last week if Demons were all bad, and he said YES! That would have been the prime opportunity to tell me what the hell was going on, yet he continued to lie, to let me believe he only had my safety in mind. That I had honestly believed. I knew Nox didn't like me, but I actually thought he wanted me safe. Now that I know he only saved me for a greater purpose… it stings like hell.

I glare at Creed, still pissed that he fucked me, stole my blood, then told Lennox about ‘bedding’ me. That's such a dick move! There is so much more going on here than whether I believe they are trying to help the Hunters. Good people can still do bad things. Without a doubt, the Regalis brothers have broken what little trust I had in them, no matter their good intentions. Ironically, the only brother who hasn't lied to me is the one who is currently glaring daggers at me from across the room, probably planning my death as his brothers argue around us. He’s the one who told me I was being used and that I needed to leave.

I let my attention fall on Razar Regalis, meeting his eyes and refusing to look away when his narrow on me. His wild black hair is a mess around his shoulders, looking tousled, yet somehow still styled… like some kind of model in a magazine. His sharp features are almost too harsh, his cheekbones and jawline so defined that it looks like Michelangelo carved the Demon from stone, his beautiful appearance starkly contradicting his dark soul. The very air around him crackles with barely controlled rage, and I have the overwhelming urge to reach out and try to calm him. Thank god for impulse control, or Razar would probably cut off my hand with one of those blades he has strapped to his chest.

“I’ll explain it all to you, but for now, we need to prepare the castle for war. The Seniorem and their army will be here in a matter of days and will obliterate any Ranger or Hunter that doesn't side with their corrupt beliefs.” Lennox's voice growls, cutting through my thoughts like a blade.

“What?” I gasp, then press myself against the wall as four sets of eyes dart to me, the different shades of green almost eerie as I look at them. “The Seniorem is going to attack the castle?” I ask, my mind finally latching onto something that doesn't make me want to throw up or bitch slap one of the men next to me. Lennox is the first to recover from my outburst, and he nods, his cautious eyes on me, flicking up and down my body like he’s trying to assess if I'm a flight risk or not. I totally am, but I’m not going anywhere until one of the four jackasses starts coughing up some more answers. So he has nothing to worry about just yet.

“Yes. We just took out two of the six main Seniorem leaders who have been working to push the Umbra units away from hunting Beastia and Therion and move in the direction of Demon capture and magic removal,” Nox says, shocking the hell out of me with the information. I’m not going to lie; I was prepared to fight him for my answers, but crazily enough, Nox is providing them on his own. Almost like a warning bell, my suspicions rise, and I don't know if I should trust his words. It would be stupid to trust him after everything, right?

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