Page 149 of Hell and High Water

Gavin glares back at him, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Please, Devonde. Open the door. I promise we aren’t here to kill you. I just need information. And I can give you some in return.”

“Hah… too little, too late.”

He leans heavily against the door, and for a moment I think he’s going to turn away. A resounding clunk announces the locking mechanism drawing back, the door popping slightly outward.

Inside, the main room is just big enough for the two of us to stand on the other side of the table he flops back down behind. To the left, the adjoining room houses shelves of food, water, and a cot.

Somewhere he could clearly stay for a while if he needed to.

“Urgh… Shit,” he curses, doubling over in pain. A dribble of blood spatters the table, quickly wiped away with the back of his free hand.

“You don’t have much longer,” Gavin states, looking completely unfazed.

“No. No, I don’t.”

Explaining why he let us in at all.

“So make it quick. I want to die in peace.”

Smothering my disgust for the villain and my discomfort with watching him suffer, I square my shoulders. “Tell me why you wanted my aunt dead.”

“She was, is, the mouthpiece of the Sinful.”

“Who you work for, too,” I posit, unsure of how the pieces fit together.

“I did. For years, like a fucking pawn. I thought I would get my chance to join them, to eventually take my place as one of the Seven. But they only intended to use me. I realized it when they had me start picking off their own members. It wasn’t until the orders stopped coming that I realized Sanctum was a ship without a captain.”

“So who was Rachelle taking orders from?”

“Precisely my question.”

“You think that she was acting on her own?”

“I never found out. But after the Ball, I knew the Sinful had lost all control of the situation. Marco Vice was in the picture, and I hedged my bets that his invading force would be the better ally.”

“How’d that work out for you?” I sniff.

“The bastard promised me everything I wanted to hear. I told him everything I knew about the Sinful, the town. We were supposed to divide the spoils.” A fit of blood-flecked coughing takes him.

“But he turned on you.”

“Once he got what he wanted.”

“Which is what, exactly? What does Marco want with Sanctum?”

“This city is more than just a fortress. It’s a sanctuary. From government influence. From attack. And a treasury of boundless wealth.”

My eyes widen at the statement. It sounds ridiculous.

But why would Devonde tell me any of this at all, let alone lie about it in his state?

“So, let’s say I believe you. What is this font of wealth? How have the Sinful kept S.H. running all these years?”

“Gold.”

“What?”

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