Page 11 of Adored By Them
Is the man alive, or dead?It’s impossible to tell.If he’s alive, he’s unconscious.Small mercy, maybe.Because that tune Uriel is humming is creepy as fuck.
Uriel positions the body carefully, almost reverently.He opens a desk drawer, which protests the motion with an ear-splitting screech.He returns to the man in the chair and uncoils a length of rope.
Humming all the while, he ties the man’s wrists.Alive, then.Right?He wouldn’t bother tying the guy up if he was dead.
He finishes his knots and steps back like he’s admiring his work.“A king and a queen.Yes.To rule over the final days, the cleansing of sins, and the approach to the Underworld.”
I don’t know what the fuck kind of religion he’s referencing, but if I had to guess, I’d say he made the whole thing up.
He stares at the other guy—and maybe me.I can’t see too clearly because I’m pretending to sleep.
Finally, he turns around and leaves the room, closing the door after him.
My heart thuds.My fear eases.Uriel is gone…for now.
And maybe, just maybe, I have a new ally.
He’s fit, with wavy, blond hair styled longer on top with fades on the sides.I can’t see the color of his eyes because they’re swollen closed.His face might normally be handsome, but all the bruising makes it hard to tell.His lips are split in several places, and there are cuts on his cheeks and chin.
“Hey, there.”I keep my voice low.“Hey, mister.”
His eyes squint open.For a moment, his face is filled with abject terror.Then he tilts his head to the side, sees me.
“Heyyyyy.”A smile forms on the guy’s messed-up mouth.Two of his teeth are missing, and the remaining ones are stained pink with blood.“Lookit that.An angel.”
My heart gives a soft pang.Edmund calls meangel.I miss him and Troy with a ferocity that would double me over if I were standing.
“Not an angel,” I say.“I’m a prisoner, just like you.”
“Right.”He glances around our creepy, Spirit Halloween knock-off emporium.“A prisoner.What’d you do to piss off Tate Vorsong?”
“I didn’t do anything to him.”
“Must’ve done something.He doesn’t sic Uriel on just anyone.”
“I was going to marry Edmund Layton.”
My new friend raises his eyebrows.“And?”
“And my grandfather is Sergey Aseyev.”
He snorts.“So you’re a pawn.”
“I guess.What are you?”
“A traitor.”
5
Edmund
Scollins isn’t at his place, and Caleb hasn’t arrived by the time Troy and I get there, get out, and walk around.
“This is fucked,” Troy says.“He isn’t here.”
I start walking back to the truck.Emotionless.Like I don’t give one single fuck.“He gambles.We should try Sterling.”
Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up to the bar my dad runs.It’s his one pet project—not for the bar itself, but for the underground gambling den beneath it.He has it set up as a “gentleman’s club.”It’s too fancy for the likes of Darryl Scollins.Except in the off-hours, like now, it’s open to a less elite clientele.
