Page 47 of Facet

“It might be for the best,” Séamus replied with prolonged eye contact with my P. I really hoped he wasn’t fucking with Venom’s head. That pissed my prez off to no ends.

Venom motioned for us to all follow Séamus, and we filed out of the room. He took us out of the building, along the path that ran to the hog farm, then veered off toward the old slaughterhouse. A quick glance back at my brothers showed they were as apprehensive as I was.

We went inside, down the hall and came around the corner to find a heavyset man hanging by his arms.

“First of all, how the fuck did you know about this building?” Venom demanded, his eyes narrowed to slits.

Séamus smirked. “Are you serious? Did you think I couldn’t sense this place? The shadow of evil still lingers—even after you send the soul to Hades.”

“Okay, and who the fuck is this?” Venom huffed, his jaw clenching.

“This is him,” Chains answered for Séamus as he stood in front of the guy with his arms attached to the meat hook.

Venom and Hawk both stared at Chains, who damn near looked like he’d seen a ghost. Then everyone looked at Séamus. All we could do was blink like fucking owls.

Séamus sighed. “A few years ago, I was hunting a demon that was heading up a human trafficking ring—the Sidorov Syndicate. He was getting sloppy. Don’t look at me like that,” he arched a brow at us. “I don’t exactly have the same moral compass as you do. Gluttony, greed, pride, lust, sloth, envy, wrath? I don’t give a fuck about that shit. Make your own choices and move on, but there are certain things even I won’t tolerate. Selling another human to satisfy one of those things and I’m gonna rip you limb from limb.”

“Jesus, who knew demons had a conscience?” Squirrel drawled in awe.

Séamus turned to him. “Oh, I can assure you it isn’t about conscience, and there are many demons that don’t have the distaste for certain things like I do. It’s the way I’m wired, that’s all. Anyway, this guy was his second. When I killed the demon running things, I made the mistake of thinking they would think twice about continuing operations. Instead, it seems they flew under the radar for a while, then resumed business as usual.”

“I can’t believe you brought him to us instead of taking care of him yourself,” Venom observed with grudging respect.

“Trust me, when I saw the drawing, I was livid. I would’ve loved nothing more than to slowly strip his skin from his worthless body while he still lived and breathed. I didn’t bring him here out of some morally gray nobility. This is strictly a gift to my son. Damien, you now have the man that hurt your woman. Do with him what you will. I only ask that your creole there does his voodoo magic and locks his soul from returning. It will save me from having this issue in the future.” Séamus dusted off the impeccable sleeves of his jacket. It was crazy that he barely looked rumpled after dragging my “gift” through time and space. Hell, he would’ve fit in perfectly with the De Luca’s.

“Thank you,” I grimly replied, then glanced over to my brothers. “I’ll take care of this. Voodoo, do you think Kira could keep Willow company?”

“Yeah, bro. No worries, we got it,” he assured me, his icy blue eyes understanding. After the things Kira had endured, he totally got my need for this pound of flesh.

“Séamus, are we still on for tonight?” I asked my father, who nodded.

“Good. Then I’ve got this. I’ll contact Voodoo when I’m ready for him.”

“Do you want any help?” Ghost quietly asked, and I appreciated him for it. My forte wasn’t this side of the business, and every single one of my brothers knew it. I was the tech guy, the one they called when they needed info or security. I was private. I practiced my rituals and spells quietly, and they didn’t involve anything like this.

Except that swirling darkness within was slithering out of its corners. Anxious and excited to be unleashed, it vibrated with anticipation. Without the amulet my mother had me wearing, I could feel it simmering inside me.

It was time to set it free.

“YesToHeaven”—LanaDelRey

At first, when I woke up alone, I panicked. The events of the night before rushed at me and sucked all sanity from my head. It took me reminding myself several times that I was safe in the clubhouse and in Damien’s bed. Finally, the anxiety receded, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I looked down at myself and saw that someone had tried to clean me up the best they could.

Damien.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that it was him. My heart melted a bit at his thoughtfulness. Yet despite his efforts, there was still some dried blood in my hair.

“I need a shower,” I muttered.

After stripping the bed and the potential flaked blood that might be there, I went in to take a shower. As the water heated, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and feathered my fingertips over the spot that should’ve had a wound, scar, or something. Instead, the skin was pale pink and as inflamed as the skin around it.

When I did an inventory of my emotions, I found myself a bit numb. How was one supposed to feel after they nearly died? I had no idea. After the initial freak out when I first woke up, I was more confused than anything.

Except if I was honest with myself, there was this little part of me that wanted retribution. A need for a vicious, violent vengeance burned deep inside me.

My stomach growled, pulling me from my dark meanderings. I climbed in the shower and quickly cleaned off, then put my hair up in a clip, and went searching for something to wear.

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