Page 19 of Hellfire

“Until you need my help again.” Gable always had to goad.

“One day, you’ll be in debt to me,” Castor muttered.

“Love you too, bitch.” Gable chuckled.

I glanced up from the folder I reviewed. “I’ll put my hand up for a favor.”

The enforcer lifted his chin, his eyes narrowing, willing to hear me out. “What do you need?”

“What else can you hack into?” I scratched the back of my neck. “I have a friend whose powers were hijacked by the Brotherhood by some sort of branding on his skin that we’ve never encountered before.”

Castor scratched underneath his lip with this thumb, showing off a brown, twined leather bracelet. “I got some time in a couple of days. Can you bring him here?” His eyes slid to Gable. “If that’s okay with you, warlock?”

Gable kneaded his fist into the arm of his sofa. “I’ll get more cookies.”

Gold flashed in the enforcer’s eyes, and my phone beeped again. “That’s my number if you need any more help.” He climbed from his chair and stabbed a finger in my direction. “I’ll be calling in that favor someday.”

“I’m not down for murder, just so you know.” Had to put it on the table.

Castor let out a smooth laugh and clapped me on the shoulder a couple of times. “A magical favor that doesn’t involve murder.”

The kind of favor that might get me fired. This lead better be worth the risk.

Gable rose and stood next to him. “If you wanted a magical blow job, all you had to do was ask.”

Castor snorted. “I’ve got a mate now. Don’t you have one too?”

“Is there anything that you don’t spy on?” Gable curled an arm over the biker’s shoulder and saw him out.

“I keep an eye on my town,” replied the enforcer, raising his hand to wave. “Nice to meet you, Darnax.”

Sneaky fucker went digging deeper. How many other Academy secrets did he pry into? Even the best security structures couldn’t keep a demigod out. He better stick to his promise of not snooping further or we’d have a problem. I shook my head and went back to my phone.

Meanwhile, I searched through the folder Castor texted me. Seventy voice messages. Close to three hundred texts and emails. Logs of call times and locations. Mountains of evidence to review. I didn’t feel comfortable taking this back to the Academy and using the network to review the files, in case Dave or anyone kept watch on our system.

Mary sat up on her seat, clutching her blanket tighter, drawing her knees to her chest.

“You’re safe here, Mary,” I told her. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

Her eyes didn’t leave me, and she didn’t relax, suggesting she didn’t trust me enough to believe a word.

“You okay, Little Bug?” Gable brushed her hair upon his return, and she whimpered and scuttled across the chair. “Hey, hey. It’s me.” He came to crouch in front of her. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Her eyes darted to the plate of cookies.

Gable smiled, leaned back, and lifted the plate in her direction. “Have as many as you want, Little Bug.”

She snatched one and warily took a bite. The poor thing had a long road ahead of her. Nightmares. PTSD. Therapy, even. If therapy could erase a lifetime of living in a cult.

“Water, please,” she mumbled, and he excused himself to pour her a tall glass, setting it down next to the plate.

“I’m going to take a look at some things with Talon. Do you need anything else while I’m busy?”

“A movie, please.” Her voice barely came out a whisper.

What the hell had they done to her? She looked like a ghost walking.

My watch beeped, a signal to tell me I had sixty minutes before sunset and my change came into effect. I had a series of alarms set up. One at half an hour, another at fifteen minutes, and a final at five minutes.

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