Page 39 of Tempest

“No, that was me who had the honor,” I say to Morgan, “who became her god when I decided it wasn’t necessary to kill her just yet.”

“Or her devil,” Miguel inputs mildly.

I acknowledge his statement with a tense nod but do not take my eyes off Hunter’s. “You don’t get that power. Nor will you take it from me. I made an oath to protect this Outfit, and at present, she is not a danger.”

Hunter’s eyes narrow. Miguel emits a warning hum in his throat aimed in my direction.

“Why would she become a danger?” Hunter asks. He says it with mild disinterest, but I’m not enjoying the way his fingers are playing at his thighs like he’s calculating the odds. “You killed the right one, didn’t you?”

“Our Manhattan affairs don’t concern you,” Miguel interjects. He then sweeps his arm toward our latest subject. “Tempest does not make mistakes. You’ve been sent to our turf to learn from us, Hunter. Now, may we focus our attention on the more immediate concerns, please?”

“Talk more about this girl,” Desmond adds desperately. “She sounds like a threat. More of a danger than I am.”

“Ardyn Kaine is my concern.” My gaze travels from Desmond to Hunter, before finally landing on Miguel. “Mine.”

“Yes, yes,” Miguel agrees tiredly. He adds for Hunter’s benefit, “I’ve tasked Tempest to maintain reconnaissance over the girl. So far, she is nothing to us. I’d like it to stay that way. That means no meddling on your part, Hunter.”

A muscle tics in Hunter’s jaw. He wisely stays silent.

I don’t believe in his acquiescence for a second.

Hunter unclips his cuff links, rolling up his sleeves to expose more ink. “Then I suppose we’ll move on to the more pressing issue.”

I catch Miguel’s annoyed glance and answer with a crooked, wry smile. Fucking nepotism.

Hunter scans the basement. There isn’t much besides the chair Desmond squirms in, a vintage chest, and an old, cracked apothecary cabinet that’s sat here about as long as this place has existed. “Where’s my blade?”

I pretend to inspect my cuticles. “Where you last left it, I assume.”

“It’s impossible to find anything in this dank, dusted-over, windowless basement.”

“I would’ve figured you’d be familiar with it, considering it mirrors your soul.”

“Boys,” Miguel warns. “Focus.”

Hunter spares a moment to glare at me, then stalks over to the cabinet, opening one drawer after the next. “Aha!” He holds a blade the size of a kitchen knife up high.

“Wh-what is that for?” Desmond asks.

Miguel grumbles, “We don’t have time for this. Allow Tempest to finish him off, Hunter.”

“Alas, I cannot do that.” Hunter graces us with a wicked grin. When he deploys it on Desmond, Desmond moans. “Please. Please give me the time to pay you back.”

“We gave you plenty of time and options,” Miguel says. He gestures to Hunter in a reluctant go-ahead motion.

Hunter moves, his polished knife glinting at the hilt where rubies were laid over a century ago. A ritual knife belonging to one of the witches utilizing this basement in the 1700s, Hunter’s been over the moon since he discovered it nestled in the folded hands of a witch skeleton on the mountains. He’s a freak, this one, and not methodical like I am. Incontrollable. Combustible. Partially why he’s here under our tutelage.

Desmond releases a high-pitched whine as Hunter leans over him, dangling the knife. “You’re going to wish Tempest was faster in his administrations.” Hunter pauses to swipe some of Desmond’s blood pooling at his neck. “Now that I’m here, I require an extra step. Your death is not enough for me. Oh no, I must also have your soul.”

“What the … you fucking … you fuck…”

“Mm.” Hunter straightens, popping a bloody finger in his mouth and sucking. “Poor man, you will never see the afterlife. None of my father’s victims do once I’m done with you. It’ll be trapped here, in this room with all these dead, restless witches, for the rest of your miserable eternity.”

Desmond starts to cry.

“Tempest? The salt, please.”

“I’m not your fucking servant.” But I do retreat a step so as not to be caught in the spray of blood Hunter’s about to unleash.

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