His smile faded as Jolene appeared at their side wearing a sober expression. “Something wrong?” he asked.
“Wrong?” echoed the Prime. “No. In fact, I have news I think you’ll both be pleased to hear.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jolene tugged on the small string hanging from the bare bulb, casting just enough light across Richie’s dark basement that Devon could clearly see Roth Lockwood strapped to a chair. The podgy, balding male blinked rapidly against the brightness of the light. Sheer unadulterated fear flickered across his mottled face as he spotted her, Jolene, and Tanner.
“Well, hello, Roth.” Jolene’s heels clicked along the cement floor as she ever so casually walked toward him. Apparently, her sentinels had found him holed up in a motel in Reno. They’d hauled his dumb ass to Richie’s basement and, if the bruises and swellings on his face were anything to go by, had roughed him up in the process. Well, good.
Devon followed Jolene and Tanner further into the basement, her nose wrinkling at the scents of must, mildew, and something even more foul. Pain. Yeah, these walls had seen a lot of people hurt.
Unlike other kids, Devon had never thought there was anything spooky about basements. It was just the place where her parents kept the washing machine, dryer, and some boxes. Khloë, however, hated them. And maybe this was why, given she’d once lived with her father.
The large space was dank and cold and eerie with shadowy corners so black they looked like voids of nothing. This basement was the kind you saw on horror movies where a sweet little family moved into a haunted house and then had to call out an exorcist when their darling child got possessed. Oh yeah, an evil poltergeist would fit well down here. Or a serial killer.
Her skin suddenly felt so clammy and chilled she almost shivered. Devon had the feeling that Richie deliberately kept the space so moldy, musty, and dreary. Because if the blood stains on the cement floor were anything to go by, he sure didn’t do his laundry down here.
“It’s ever so good to finally meet you,” said Jolene, standing in front of Roth while Devon and Tanner flanked her.
“Yeah, I’ve been looking forward to it.” Heat roiled low in her stomach as Devon glared down at the son of a bitch. Face ashen, lips trembling, he stared at them wide-eyed, reeking of sweat and fear. Her demon liked the smell of the latter. Liked seeing that glint of terror in his eyes. So did Devon, because she was certain just from the way he looked up at them like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar that he was guilty as sin.
His heart was beating frantically. She could hear it pounding and pounding like hooves galloping on a racetrack. Yeah, the guy knew he was fucked.
He jumped as water gurgled in one of the rusty, exposed pipes.
“You’re not looking good, Roth.” Shoulders back, fists clenched, Tanner stared down at the pathetic piece of shit, sure to his bones that Roth was the broker they were looking for. Why else would he have run? Why else would guilt be plastered all over his face?
Wrestling with the urge to lunge and slice open Roth’s throat, Tanner inhaled deeply through his nose. No, he wouldn’t lose it. The bastard would die tonight, but not yet.
He’d expected his demon to fight him on holding back—it wasn’t a creature that liked to bide its time, didn’t care to wait until Tanner had answers. But right then, it didn’t push for supremacy or demand instant vengeance.
Oh, it wanted to lash out. Maim. Destroy. Not simply because Devon was under its protection. It had developed a sort of … well, something as close to a “fondness” for her as the entity was capable of feeling. The hound didn’t view her or her inner entity as prey anymore. Didn’t think of itself as superior to them. It liked her fire and spirit and that she kept Tanner on his toes. And now it wanted to rip apart this person who’d dared to play a part in the danger surrounding her.
But it remained still for the time being, its muscles straining against its skin as it locked its unblinking stare on Roth. It intended to deliver the killing blow, though—Tanner could feel it.
Tanner briefly flicked his eyes to the particularly ugly gash on the other male’s temple. “Bet that hurts.” He telepathically reached out to Jolene and asked, How is it that the rope has held him for so long? Roth didn’t sit high on the power spectrum, but he could escape a damn rope.
Devon’s godmother, Millicent, spelled the rope so that it would restrain any preternatural creature, no matter their strength or breed, the Prime replied. It’s come in handy many times over the years.
Exuding a calm she didn’t feel, Devon took a single step forward. “You brokered the deal that had me kidnapped. Twice.” She cocked her head. “Did you really think no one would trace it back to you?”
Sweat beaded on Roth’s lip. “I get why you’d think it was me,” he said, his voice trembling as hard as he was. “But you’re making a mistake.”
Devon’s brow hitched up. “Am I?”
Roth nodded hard. “Yes. Maybe there’s someone out there who’s stupid enough to broker a deal that would largely piss off two Primes, but that person ain’t me.”
“You were stupid enough to betray Knox,” Tanner pointed out.
Roth licked his lips. “I didn’t broker the deal.”
“Then did why you run?” Devon challenged.
“Because I knew you’d blame me! Maddox Quentin is the guy you should be talking to.”
Jolene idly toyed with her necklace. “We already had a chat with him.”
“I’ll bet he pointed the finger at me, didn’t he?” Roth sneered, shaking his head.
“He certainly considers you a person of interest, given that you’d happily do something that would infuriate both Knox and Richie,” Jolene replied. Her face hardened as she added, “You became more than a person of interest when we realized you’d fled.”
Wincing, Roth squeezed his eyes shut. “I know it looks bad, but I had nothing to do with the deal.” His eyes snapped open and landed straight on Devon. “I didn’t. You have to believe me.”
Devon sighed. “I really hate it when people try to blow smoke up my ass.”
Roth’s lips thinned. “I’m not—”
“Each time you lie to us, I’m going to slice into you,” Tanner told him, cool and calm, as if they were merely discussing the weather. “Every cut will be that little bit deeper than the one before. I don’t need to worry about you bleeding out, because the wounds will heal in seconds.”
Devon pursed her lips. She hadn’t known he had that delightful ability. It wouldn’t be so useful in battle, but it would be real helpful when it came to torture.
“In other words, Roth, this process can be as painless or agonizing as you want it to be,” Tanner went on. “Your death won’t be painless—I won’t lie about that. But even a sadist would be sickened by the sort of pain I’ll put you through if you don’t quit lying to us.”
She almost shivered. Damn but the guy could be scary. As for Roth … Shit, she hadn’t thought he could get any paler. It was like every drop of blood just left his face. His leg muscles seemed to tighten, and she had the feeling he’d have tried to flee if he could have moved.