Is it just me wondering why it’s being so talkative? Tanner asked Knox. Rogues usually have a more “fuck you, I don’t explain myself to people” attitude.
I’m guessing it’s either under the illusion that it will get free and is simply biding its time before it strikes or it’s been wanting to get this shit off its chest for a very long time, said Knox. “What exactly was Harry haunted by?”
“The night before Milton intervened,” began the demon, “Muriel and Dale received the same number of votes. The tutors decided to take them both to the basement.” Its eyes hardened to stone as it added, “They hurt the children. Forced the children to do vile things to each other. Then they brought Harry down and gave him the choice to take Muriel’s place. I could smell his fear; knew he would not agree, but she had hoped he would. He didn’t.”
Tanner liked to think he’d have offered to trade places with Muriel to spare the little girl further pain, but he couldn’t blame Harry for not wanting to do so. He’d only been a child himself. You couldn’t really know what you’d do in such a situation unless you were in it.
“The tutors were not surprised by his refusal,” the demon went on. “They laughed. I think they had noticed how the guilt of voting for others again and again was eating at Harry; they had worried he might tell someone, and so they had added to his shame by making him the offer to save Muriel, knowing he would refuse. But it did not have quite the effect they had hoped for. It made him more determined to make the abuse stop for good.”
Knox’s nostrils flared. “Why didn’t you push her to tell me? You must have sensed I’d have done what I could to stop it.”
“I urged her to speak with you. She would not listen, and she was far too ashamed to speak of it.”
Scrubbing his hand down his face, Levi softly cursed.
“You would not pity Muriel so much if you knew she was not so innocent,” said the demon. “She once convinced another female child to go the boys’ dorm, hoping she would be taken instead. The child received the most votes, and she was taken to the basement. She did not come out of it alive. The tutors made it seem to the other staff like she was yet another runaway. But Muriel liked to block that memory—she could not deal with the guilt. Not feeling so sorry for her now, are you?”
“She was still a victim,” said Knox.
“Yes. But she had no problem making someone else into a victim. No problem voting for those boys. She even voted for Dale a time or two. Not that I blamed her.”
Staring at the demon, seeing how little sympathy it now had for Muriel, Tanner couldn’t help but think that this was what would have become of Devon’s mother if she’d given control to her own demon. Pamela could have surrendered to the inner entity to escape her pain and guilt, but she hadn’t, even though the pull of it had to be strong. Pamela might have done some messed up shit, but it said a lot about her that she hadn’t tried to escape it.
The demon gave Knox a bored look. “I suppose you are going to kill me.”
“You can’t be allowed to live,” said Knox, conjuring a lethal ball of hellfire.
The entity spared the blazing orb a brief, disinterested glance. “Are you not going to ask why Muriel came here?”
“We know why.”
“Do you?”
“She intended to kill herself here; to die where she’d no doubt wished she’d died as a child rather than suffer what she’d suffered.”
“You are partly right. She wanted to die here. But she also wanted to purge the ground as she did so. There is no clock in here, so I am not sure how much time you have left before the bomb detonates, but I doubt it will be long.”
Motherfucker.
*
Devon frowned as the intercom buzzed. Honestly, she was in too lazy a mood to get up and see who her visitor was. But she was also far too curious to not check. Draining her mug, she set it on the coffee table and pushed to her feet.
The intercom buzzed again just as she reached the small screen that showed who was on the doorstep of the building, hoping to be admitted. Finn. And he did not look happy.
She pushed the speak button. “Hello?”
“Let me up, we need to talk,” said Finn, curt. He had one of his sentinels with him, but no Leticia, Spencer, Reena, or Kaye. Hoping he had some damn good news that might clue her in as to who was fucking up her shit, she pressed the button that would unlock the front door for him.
Devon glanced down at herself, frowning at her sweatpants and old tee. She looked far from presentable. Oh, well.
Minutes later, she was opening the door to find Finn standing there, his shoulders tense, his brows drawn together.
“Wait here,” he told Eric, who inclined his head at Devon and then adopted an on-guard position.
Finn surged past her, waiting for her to close the door before he spoke. “I heard about what happened at the sports bar.”
Ah, so this was about Reena. “And what is it exactly that you heard?”
“You accused her of being the one who broke into your old apartment,” he hissed.
“It wasn’t just broken into; it was vandalized.”
His mouth set into a white slash. “You can’t truly believe she did it.”
“Why not?”
“She’s your blood.”
“Not in her mind. She wants me out of her life, out of your life—she told me that herself. Not that I hadn’t already received that message long ago.” Devon headed into the living area, aware he was following her.
“Reena’s not a person who would find any satisfaction in vandalism.”
“She’s also not a person who’d hang out at a sports bar drinking beer and playing pool,” said Devon, sinking into the sofa. “Or, at least, I wouldn’t have thought so, but she looked really relaxed there.”
He dismissed that with a flick of his hand. “She probably goes there with the other sentinels as a sort of team bonding exercise.”
“Hmm.”
“Your old apartment was in a bad area where crime is pretty much rife. You can’t live in a place like that and expect not to be robbed.”
Devon felt her expression go hard. “It wasn’t a robbery. It also wasn’t a simple case of vandalism. It was a fucking tantrum. Jolene sent you copies of the photos that Ciaran took. Did you notice that the vase you bought me was shattered?”
“Reena wouldn’t care about a vase.”
“No, but she’d care that you buy me things. She always has, and you know it.” She tilted her head. “You don’t find it the tiniest bit freaking suspicious that she was at my building on the same day that the break-in happened? Something she kept from you, I might add.”
“She just wanted to talk to you.”
“She wanted to check if Sheridan had mentioned her name or if he said anything that could implicate her,” Devon corrected. “Did she tell you that she knew him?” His eyes flickered, and she tensed. “You already knew, didn’t you? You knew, and you said nothing.”
He rubbed at his brow. “I didn’t see it as relevant. There’s no way Reena would have any reason to want Asa released.”
“I don’t think anyone wants Asa released. I don’t think they ever did.” Devon draped her arms over the back of the sofa, deciding it was time to test her theory out on him. “I think the reason he hasn’t given you any more names is that he’s been telling you the truth all along—he has none left to give you.”