Page 43 of Cosmic Power

“It was Barnabas,” Luther said darkly. “He broke into my house, killed my men and took her and Roman.”

“What on Earth—why? Why would he do something like that? Was it revenge for denying his request to revoke the Exposure Law?”

Luther gave him a surprised look.

“What?” Thaddeus shrugged his shoulders. “I might not have been there for that part, but I heard about it. It’s been the talk of the town for the last few days. There are those who wish to fight your ruling, by the way. Just prepare for that.”

Luther scoffed. “They can try. They won’t succeed. A war with the humans will result in a massive amount of casualties for both sides. It’s not worth it.”

“I agree,” the dark mage nodded. “So, was that why he did it? Revenge?”

Luther straightened his spine and cracked his neck. He couldn’t tell Thaddeus the real reason Barnabas took Zamorra. It wasn’t his story to tell. “No, but the ‘why’ doesn’t matter. All that does is that he has her, and I need to get her back.”

Thaddeus studied him intently, a flare of red lightning flickering through his eyes. “What is it about her, Luther? I’ll admit, she’s a gorgeous one. Tough, tenacious, smart. But you’ve come across a lot of women like that in your time and I’ve never seen you act like you do around her. You’re almost…pleasant. Like you’re at peace. It’s…strange.”

Luther looked into his eyes, not bothering to fight the small trickle of magic the dark mage unleashed. He wanted to answer. “She sees me. Sees the evil lurking beneath my skin, the scars on my soul, and it doesn’t scare her. She’s not afraid of me, not afraid to stand up to me like so many others. She doesn’t care about my fortune, power or good looks. She doesn’t care about my title, or the fame that being associated with me possesses. She just cares about…me.”

A small smile graced Thaddeus’s lips. “She’s a wondrous creature, isn’t she? You’re one lucky bastard.” He clapped his hands, rubbing his fingers together. “Alright, what can I do to help? Want me to reach out to my contacts here? See if they’ve heard anything?”

Luther nodded. “It’s worth a try.” Although, Luther doubted he would find anything. Barnabas was a secretive creature. He barely trusted the men in his own pack. He highly doubted he would have told anyone his plans. “Void mentioned he has his own home outside of his pack’s territory. See if you can find it.”

Thaddeus cracked his knuckles. “Leave it with me.” A cloud of red mist enveloped his body and he disappeared. Luther didn’t need to go looking to know he’d teleported himself back to Ryker’s side.

Luther got to his feet, intending to head back into the kitchen when he heard a knock at the front door. A sigh left his lips. There was only one person that could be.

ChapterEleven

Once Zamorra was on her knees, Iris waved her hand in the air, glowing white with power. The shield surrounding her cell blinked out of existence.

The bulky shifter unlocked the iron door, his skin protected by the leather gloves on his hands, and gave her a warning glare. “Try anything and I’ll break your legs.”

Zamorra blinked. Oh, she was meant to be scared by that threat. Intimidated. “Gotcha, Bigfoot,” she replied, staying on her knees.

She knew there was no way she could escape right now, anyway. She might have been able to take the shifter, but Iris? Though she looked physically weak with her pale skin and the huge bags under her eyes, Zamorra knew she was anything but.

He eyed her cautiously as he stepped in front of her and shackled the iron cuffs around her wrists.

She hissed at the contact. Her skin burned like he’d taken a red-hot poker and stabbed her with it. Pain radiated up her arm.

The shifter hooked his index finger around the chain connecting the cuffs and pulled her to her feet. He led her out of her cell into the thin hallway, and for the first time Zamorra was able to catch a glimpse of her prison in its entirety. Rows of cells sat beside hers, both on the left and the right, similar to her own with only slight differences.

As she was pushed past the cell beside hers, she locked eyes with the red-skinned demon she had been conversing with. She was beautiful, tall and slim with long dark hair that flowed down her back. Despite her dark, soulless eyes and devilish appearance, she had a soft, delicate face with high cheekbones and full lips. Her black horns sprung from her head, a few inches long and curved slightly at the top.

She leaned against the cell door with her forearms, her black clawed fingers interlocked through the iron bars.

Zamorra waved with a small smile on her face. The demon glared with annoyance as her eyes tracked Zamorra walking past.

Zamorra winced. Maybe she had been a bit too annoying with all her chatter. She would apologise when she returned.

As the shifter continued to lead her down the hallway towards the large metal door, she walked past seven more cells. Zamorra peeked into each one, looking for Roman. She didn’t find him. Five were empty. Two were occupied; one by a dark mage and the other by a vampire, both of whom she had never seen before.

They watched her with confusion as she walked past, as if wondering why she was allowed out of her cell.

Zamorra was wondering, too. She highly doubted her little tantrum worked and Barnabas had decided to let her out for some fresh air.

The shifter placed a hand over the palm reader next to the metal door and the red light sitting above it switched to green. A click rang throughout the small space as the door unlocked.

Okay, first step in the escape: cut off one of his men’s hands to open the door. No problem.

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