AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When Roman had sensed Donovan coming up the driveway, he’d grabbed Travis by the collar and dragged him to the back door, out of sight of their asshole dad and his small but powerful army of Shadowmasters, Blaine and Larina Barlowe among them.
Now, they stood in a far corner of the attic, breathing heavily, the others in their group—Shay, Arthur, Jewels, Malakai, Loren—hidden with spells in the living room a few feet away. They’d gotten in here by climbing up to the roof and slipping in through a window, barely avoiding being seen.
And barely avoiding Malakai Delaney’s ego giving them away. The idiot wanted to fight, but sometimes being smart enough to know when to run served just as well.
“I need you to stay up here,” Roman hissed.
“Fuck that—”
“Travis,” Roman snapped, being careful to keep his voice down. “Trav, if you care about me at all, you will stay put and stay the hell out of sight.” He swallowed the dryness in his throat. “Can I trust you to do this for me? To not completely blow everything?”
“It’s been years, Roman,” Travis said in a hoarse whisper. “Years since I saw you, years of me running away—”
“We can talk about that after,” Roman hissed. “But I’d prefer not to watch my brother get butchered before I even have a chance to hear about the past few years of his life.”
“Me? Butchered?” Travis snarled. “What about you? Look at your scars, Roman! You think I didn’t notice?”
“After,” Roman insisted. “We’ll talk after.”
Travis’s throat bobbed. His mouth shifted with the words he wanted to say, but he didn’t set them free.
Roman clasped his brother on the shoulders with both hands and leaned in, resting his forehead against his. “Do not leave this room,” Roman whispered. “No matter what you hear.”
He was gone before Travis could reply, hoping like hell that the brother he’d saved would not be stupid enough to come downstairs.
Loren buried her hands in the folds of Darien’s shirt. It was so big on her, she was drowning in the black fabric, but it helped keep her warm. And it smelled like him—his cologne, body wash. The calming scent helped her stay level-headed.
She was on the couch in the attic, Shay, Aspen, and Jewels beside her. Arthur sat in the rocking chair while Travis and Malakai paced the length of the room, the two of them so tall, their heads nearly brushed the low ceiling.
Shay said to Malakai, “You’re making me dizzy.”
“This is bullshit,” the Reaper spat. “There are enough of us here—there’s no reason why we should be hiding from that prick.”
Travis rounded on him. “If Roman tells us to hide, we hide. You don’t know my dad. He’s a hundred times worse than Randal.”
The name brought back a vivid memory in perfect detail—Darien’s father, Randal Slade, holding Loren aloft in the tunnels under Angelthene with the wicked hand of his magic.
And Darien—begging his dad to let her go. Begging for her.
Loren blinked, goose bumps prickling across her body.
“We stay put,” Arthur declared, somehow managing to sound authoritative over two terrifying Darkslayers. “And Malakai Delaney sits down.”
The Reaper scowled, but threw himself onto the other couch. His eyes snapped to Shay’s face.
She stared back at him. “What?”
“Weren’t you missing?” He glanced at Aspen. Pointed a tattooed finger at Shay. “Wasn’t she missing?”
The female Reaper tilted her head, her blunt mahogany bob swishing against her chin. “I never saw the photo.”
“You must mean my sister,” Shay said. “Anna. We look alike.”
“What happened to her?” Loren asked, the words prickling with dryness. The chlorine had really done a number on her.
“She was abducted.” Shay picked at a thread in her pants. “But I don’t really want to talk about that right now.”
“There he is,” Donovan drawled, his smile wide and wicked as Roman walked into the crowded space. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”
