Page 23 of Devilish

What the holy fuck…

I pushed up to my knees, testing that nothing was broken so I could stand. A quick scan of my body showed a number of cuts and scrapes, but nothing major, and I managed to stumble to my feet.

For a long moment, all I could do was stare in shock, not comprehending what was in front of me.

Smoke from The Veil billowed into the night and flames licked at the sky. My first instinct was to run toward it, but then I remembered no one was inside. I’d been the last, thank God, but what had happened to cause an explosion?

As I reached for my phone to call 911, my eyes caught on someone standing on the other side of the street. He leaned against the black car that sat idling, silently watching the scene play out before him as he smoked a cigarette.

I recognized him instantly. I’d only ever seen him in person once before, but that had been one time too many.

Rupert fucking McGuire.

It was too coincidental that he was here, looking completely unsurprised by the building being on fire.

My adrenaline turned to rage as Rupert blew a puff of smoke in my direction before tossing his cigarette in the road. He smirked at me and climbed into the back of the car, and I clenched my fists as I watched it drive away.

That motherfucker. He’d done this to prove a point. To get revenge for my having taken something that he considered his, and to make me watch while he did it.

Considering Kaihishad been his first mistake.

Fucking with what was mine had been his second.

But if he thought blowing up The Veil would ruin me and get Kai back, he was sorely mistaken. I’d burn everything I owned to the ground before I’d ever hand Kai over to him.

To anyone.

10

KAI

VIVID DREAMS ASSAULTED my sleep all night. I didn’t know if I’d been running in them or what, but I found myself fully awake before dawn.

I sat up and flipped on the light beside me. There wasn’t a clock in the room, so I had no idea what time it was, but it was way too early for Lucien to be getting up yet. Too early for me too, but there was no way I could fall back asleep. Something had the pit of my stomach feeling a little unsettled, and I couldn’t put my finger on why.

Frowning, I slipped out of the bed and quietly opened the door. It was dead quiet, almost eerily so, and I stepped out to make sure everything was okay with Lucien.

What are you going to do, knock on his door? Go inside if he doesn’t answer? Wake him up because you can’t sleep?

But it turned out I didn’t have to do any of those things, because Lucien’s bedroom door was wide open.

I glanced around, expecting to see him having his coffee in the kitchen or even lounging on the couch, but the house felt too still. Like he wasn’t there.

I crept down the hallway, chancing a look in his room, which felt a little invasive, considering I’d never seen it before. A blacktufted leather headboard rose against dark walls, splashes of rich red woven throughout the room along the bedspread and pillows. It captured Lucien’s vibe perfectly, but it was the fact that the bed was still made, like he hadn’t slept in it, that made the unease in my stomach grow.

Maybe he’d gone to work? But as the sunrise was cresting in the distance, that seemed unlikely, as it was hours past closing.

Another, more logical explanation crossed my mind, but that wasn’t anything I wanted to think about. That Lucien had a lover.

It made sense. He was beautiful and sexual and absolutely had men begging to get in his bed. Just because he let me stay here didn’t mean he had to tell me what he did behind closed doors, and really, I shouldn’t care.

So why did the thought of Lucien with someone else make my chest get tight?

The sound of the front door unlocking made me whip my head in that direction. I didn’t have time to book it back to my room, but I tried anyway, not wanting Lucien to think I’d been spying.

All those thoughts left my head, though, the second he walked in the door.

With his phone to his ear, he nodded along to whatever was being said as he tossed his keys on the table. But it was the state of him, the disheveled hair and ripped shirt, the cuts on his arm and face, that kicked up my pulse.

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