Page 8 of Buried Secret 295

Unlocking my front door, I step inside, feeling the wards of the place recognize my magic, and they allow me inside. I dash up the stairs and head straight for my office, which has become my refuge. I flop down into the computer chair and pull out my phone. My grip tightens on the device. Constantine Blackthorne. It had to be one of those Seven Deadly Sins pricks. Demon bonded together in a sort of sibling bond. They all had different powers that deemed them worth being the demon’s leaders.

Here I am, about to deal with the Sloth Prince himself. I can’t make myself dial the number. Yet, as I sit here, I know what they will do with her if Marcus denies her. Technically, Salem denied him, but either way, anyone who has a family member who doesn’t get claimed is going to get a first-class ticket to a psychiatric hospital called Fae’s Edge. It’s where we send people who would be a danger to others, usually because of mental disorders—stripped of their powers once more. To be drugged and maybe slowly reintegrated into society. We all knew the odds were against them ever being put back into public.

I’ve researched other anti-fae prison facilities that have shut down. They seem to pop up everywhere, with at least one or two being shut down yearly. However, Salem’s facility is the biggest they have ever shut down. The amount of people was almost triple the average amount. How she survived as long as she did was truly amazing. Maybe that’s why I find her so fascinating. She is the first prisoner from one I have ever spoken to. The records of people who live through them are kept secret. They go through almost witness protection to give them the most normal life that they could ever hope to have. The thought Salem has planted in my mind is nagging at me as it has taken root about whether they all get shipped off or, as Salem said, ‘put down.’ All the cases I read and the published case studies on the ones that lived through it. Some instances of surviving ten years or more, but the average life expectancy is 2-3 years.

I threw open the file I had compiled about her on my desk. There isn’t much to go on, but I researched all I could find online about her. There wasn’t much time, so I researched as quickly as possible because I wanted to know what I was walking into when her name appeared. Pictures and articles about her disappearance were everywhere. There are also many conspiracy theories and ideas about what happened to her. Photos of her mother crying at the funeral they had for Salem, capturing themoment as she released doves in the air for her three years ago. My power ripples under my skin as anger takes hold. That was almost three years ago since they officially declared her death. Salem was gone for six years. The more I think about it, the angrier I get. No matter how much I don’t want to be, I am now in this.

If anyone can teach her how to control her shadows, it’s Constantine. Plus, she is starving herself in ways that I can’t help. My eyes close and I slump in my chair as I replay how good it felt when her fangs pierced my skin. It felt euphoric and almost as if it unlocked something inside of me. That something needs to be locked away again. I can’t afford to have it out. I have fed the occasional vampire, and it’s never felt like that, not even when we were lovers.

Her succubus was feasting on both the nurse’s and Lydia’s fear. It knew how to feed Salem and took control since she was starving. Between that and her shadows, it leads me to believe that he is her father. Perhaps, if nothing else, he can train her, as she is part of the demon class. It’s his duty. She has no chance without it. The Academy can’t go against the Ministry. Even if they would, they won’t fight for her. The Dean is in Marcus’ pocket and won’t fight for her. All we have is this: I have nine hours.

It’s now or never. I dial the number, and part of me hopes it goes to voicemail. However, I can’t get that lucky. “Simon. What do I owe the pleasure of this call? Have you finally decided to take me up on my offer?”

“Do you know Keira Tempest?” I don’t bother answering his pointless question. There is no way I would ever make a deal with him. I hear the bastard suck in a breath. There is a part of me that wishes I could relish that I’ve caught him off guard. He isn’t one that you can trip up easily. Despite him being the sin ofsloth, he is pretty quick. His silence speaks volumes. “I think I may have stumbled upon your daughter or perhaps a niece?”

“What about that makes you think she is mine or one of my brothers? Pretty sure my sisters would all know if they had a kid.” His voice is calm and careful, but you can hear the undertones of irritation. “This sounds like a Kiera problem, not a Constantine one. She is probably Marcus’ kid. Did he put her up to this?” His voice loses its careful tone and drips like venom as he speaks over the phone.

“You’re seriously paranoid. However, on the topic of Marcus, I think he knows she is yours,” I tell him. Am I slightly leading him? Yes. The fact is that Marcus knew she wasn’t his, and he had been raising a bastard.Don’t play with Constantine Blackthorne.My voice of reason is practically screaming in my head. I need to hook him, and I am so close to him taking the bait.

“She would probably be dead if he knew that. Kiera left him years ago but went back to the smug bastard. I thought it was to get her toddler. There wasn’t time to get them both out. Kiera refused to leave once she returned and had two more kids with him after.”

“Yes, and if she wasn’t your daughter, I can say with almost certainty that she probably would have died.” I no longer bother to pretend she is one of his brothers. He practically confirmed that Kiera stayed with him. “The girl states he saw her shadows and sent her to one of the anti-fae prisons. She came in with yesterday’s raid.” I tell him, and hopefully, this is all the convincing the man needs to get on board or at least help me.

“HE WHAT?” The phone line goes dead. I pull it away from my face to make sure he didn’t just mute me. Nope, he hung up on me, the bastard.

A loud thumping knock sounds from my front door. It sounds like whoever is on the other side is about to beat in the door.That will be Constantine. The banging on the door gets louder. “GARNET, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR! It’s spelled against me.” A small smile lit my face as I often wondered how many wards it would take to keep someone like him out. Now I know. I am naturally a paranoid person. While I might not have lived here long, that didn’t mean I didn’t always cast the proper wards to keep guests from popping in. You didn’t get to my level without making enemies and learning a few techniques to secure yourself better, which is why I am one of the youngest professors to grace the halls of Black Rose.

When I open the door, Constantine’s eyes are black, and the red ring resembling a flame along the outer rim of his pupil blazes with anger. His shadows came off of him like a black fire. He can do much more than control shadows and invade people’s dreams. There are so many rumors about him, but I know he can make people never wake up from the nightmares he creates. The man created his realm and nightmare creatures. They’re constantly pulling at people’s fears to collect for him. Constantine is the sin of sloth. His dark hair is slick back, with a few strands falling out of place. “Where is she?” He looks over my shoulder into my house.

“Not out here.” I motion for him to come in and can’t help but look around outside as I close the door. “My office.” I know the wards are even stronger there, so I raise my hand and feed it with my magic signature as I open the door. “After you.” I hold the door open for him, knowing I must open the surrounding spell to accept him. Once he leaves, he cannot gain re-entry without me.

You can feel the power radiating off him, his anger too close to the surface. The room practically vibrates with it as he levels his eyes on mine. He stands before me like a predator, waiting for his chance to strike me down. “I am going to ask once more:where is she?” The words come out calm yet have the opposite effect on my body.

“Still at the hospital. They have a hold on her for now until tomorrow morning. Unless I can find a sponsor for her or…” my eyes hold his as I need to drive the point home. “...Family. Right now, they are doing a psych evaluation of her mental state.” I want to add that she will indeed fail it. After seeing her, I realized she isn’t a people person. “Since she won’t return to her mother and Marcus, they will place her at Fae’s Edge.”

His eyes narrow on me. “What did you see that makes you believe she is my daughter?” I open my mouth to speak but stop as he lifts his hand to stop me. His fingers give a come here motion before holding out his hand for me to take. “Show me, let me see.” Dread pools in my stomach. I don’t want him rooting around in my brain, seeing things he shouldn’t. When I don’t answer, he snaps his fingers. “Do you want my help or not?”

“Only if I get to direct you. You do not have permission to change course.” I hold my hand to him, my magic glowing around my hand, needing him to agree to the terms.

“Spoilsport.” He nods and grabs my hand, his magic mixing with my own. My head snaps back as I feel his magic mingling with mine. It moves up my arm until darkness overtakes my eyes. I am reliving the moment I walked into the room with Salem and my conversations with Lydia and the nurses. My magic pushes him out of my brain, not allowing him inside a second longer.

The room vibrates fiercely. It feels like an earthquake is coming from within my office. I grab ahold of Constantine, whose anger is currently in the driver’s seat. I open a portal to transport him into no-man’s-land, a section of the realm in which nothing seems to grow. A battle took place hundreds of years ago. The magic used here killed everything within a 50-mile radius. My portal cracks and strains as it opens to no-man’s-land. I push him through the portal, and as I close it, I am shot across the floor, landing in a heap. Purple fire shoots out from where my portal was only moments before I can feel the heat against my face; the smell of singed hair greets me, and I quickly pat myself down to ensure nothing is on fire.

My heart is beating erratically. I did not foresee that happening. I didn’t expect Constantine to react that way. He always seems detached, a jokester. At most, I thought there might be a bit of anger, but nothing like this, maybe more denial than anything. I suppose I didn’t expect him to have paternal instincts. We have limited time and temper tantrums are not on the agenda. I stand up, walk out of my office, go to my kitchen bar, and pour a bourbon before pouring an extra glass.

A thumping knock appears a second later. I extend my magic to open the door and hold out the glass as a peace offering. His black eyes are blazing, and the orange around his pupil flickers like fire. He looks at both glasses in my hands. Instead of going for the extended glass, he grabs the crystal decanter. He grips the neck of the bottle and brings it to his lips. My eyes roll, and I let out a breath. “Yeah, please drink the 150-year bourbon like we are at a frat party. What’s mine is yours.” My voice drips with sarcasm.

He points his finger at me with his hand still wrapped around the neck of the bottle. “You can fuck off right now. This is the only thing stopping me from going to the hospital and burning the fucking thing to the ground. Let’s go. We need to take her now. Right. Fucking. Now.”

“We have to do this by the book.” My hand slaps against my bar top. “We have to do this with a paper trail behind us. They can’t break their own rules if we follow them.”

His power explodes from him as dark wings explode from his back. His shadows ripple off him like a cape—fear pools in my stomach. I shake it off, knowing he can feed off of it. Assoon as I think about it, he has already latched on, and I’m left running defense. I fall to the side as his power springboards off mine, pulling away abruptly. His power pulls back inside of him. “Forgive me. It’s been a while since I’ve lost control of myself. That being said, I have stood by and watched as the Ministry has stopped looking out for the good of its people.” He breaks eye contact and shakes his head. “I have turned a blind eye since it hasn’t ever affected me.” The ground vibrates softly, and he brings the crystal decanter to his lips again. Before he tips it back, drinking the amber liquid like a seasoned frat boy, taking a deep pull from the drink. Constantine sets the decanter back on the bar counter.

“I need you to hear me when I say they will come take her. Right now, while they think nobody cares. You seem to care for some fucking reason, or else you damn sure wouldn’t have called me.” His voice sounds urgent, and it gives me doubt along with touches of anxiety. Damnit! This needed to be done by the book. They are going to use this against her. His words have taken root and now I have doubts as well. He smiles as if he knows he has won. “I will watch in the veil; when she is alone, we snatch her. She knows you, so you have to come.”

“How do you know? What do you think is about to happen?” I need to know more before I do a partner-in-crime team-up with Constantine. Why am I even considering this?

“I’ve been around years longer than you have. You don’t understand corruption like I do. You figured out within minutes of meeting her that she is my daughter. Do you think Marcus hasn’t put the pieces together? He isn’t stupid, and he needs her to go away. He needs her to be silenced. Her very existence is a threat to him. She will disappear as soon as Lydia pushes the paperwork to him. Then, you watch the paper trail and anyone associated with it disappears as well. It’s containment time for him.” Constantine gives me no room for arguing as hedisappears a second later. One second, he is there, and then the next, it’s like he blinks and vanishes. His voice remains after his body disappears. “Be ready.”

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