Page 90 of Stolen Faith

Devon put his hand on the small of Juliette’s back, a motion he’d done a thousand times before. The pain was sudden and shocking.

For a few minutes, she’d forgotten.

Forgotten exactly how fucked up she was, how hurt. Her skin felt tender all over, with a few lines of more acute pain. It felt like she had a full-body sunburn that had been scraped and cut.

“Shit. Sorry,” Devon whispered, voice laced with worry. “Jules, we need to get you to a doctor.”

“You need a doctor too.” She looked at him. “But we end this. Now.”

Reluctantly, he nodded.

A tense silence filled the office, Jonah and TiffaniGrace watching Izabel, who was the only one moving around. Her torn and dirty skirts swished, the sound elegant and at odds with her appearance.

Izabel was on phone duty and had unplugged the landline phone and picked it up, then swiped a cell phone off the desk. She studied it, then turned to the Morgans.

“Where’s your phone?” Izabel demanded, looking at TiffaniGrace.

TiffaniGrace raised her chin. “I won’t give you—”

“I see it,” Brennon said. “Side table, Iza.”

Izabel grabbed a second cell phone off a small table. She brought both phones and the landline phone back to where the rest of them stood. She stored the fancy landline on the shelf under Barry, then handed the two cell phones to Juliette and Devon.

Juliette stared at the one she held. It had a case that featured a picture of a man who was either white Jesus or Obi-Wan Kenobi.

She gripped the phone like the lifeline it was and looked around.

Devon had assumed there was a very slim chance that they’d get into the office and be able to grab all the phones before one of the Morgans placed a call for help. It had been their best-case scenario, and the fact that they’d actually managed it, that neither Jonah nor TiffaniGrace had their phone on their person, was shocking.

Juliette had been ready for nothing to go right, instead something had.

TiffaniGrace was wearing a solid-colored sleeveless sheath dress with a V-neck and several gold necklaces. She was young, but her skin was taking on a wrinkled, leathery texture. Juliette had no idea if her tan was sprayed on, baked on in a bed, or the result of actual sun exposure. Probably one of the latter two, given how it was aging her.

Finally, the silence grew to be too much for the Morgans.

“Who are you?” Jonah demanded. At the same time, TiffaniGrace said, “What did you do to Barry?”

Jonah looked at his daughter’s boyfriend—tied up on a cart decorated with candle, sunrise, and cross stickers—and a small grimace touched his mouth.

Juliette, Devon, Rowan, Brennon, and Izabel said nothing. They had a plan, and so far, everyone was sticking to it.

“That’s him, Daddy.” TiffaniGrace raised her finger and pointed at Devon. “That’s the leader of the secret society that’s trying to ruin our nation, trafficking our kids, and killing good people like Mama!”

“Should we take off our human suits and let our true lizard selves be seen?” Brennon asked.

TiffaniGrace blinked, squealed, and raised the cross on her necklace, holding it up toward them like they were vampires.

That comment was not part of the plan. Juliette resisted the urge to either smile or smack Brennon upside the head. Izabel snorted, then swallowed the amusement when Juliette looked at her.

Brennon was undeterred by Juliette’s stare. “Let’s use our space laser to zap them—”

“That’s enough! What do you want?” TiffaniGrace’s father demanded, voice booming.

“His voice,” Rowan said. “Now I definitely recognize him.”

Izabel and Brennon both leaned away from him.

“Do you listen to conspiracy theory radio?” Brennon demanded.

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