“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I whispered.
Luna’s lower lip trembled before she threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I know where the bathroom is.”
Taking her hand, I helped her slide off the bed. Her legs shook before she steadied them.
Her shirt cleaved to her body and covered her to her knees. Bent beneath her during the attack, Luna’s lower legs were protected from the spray. She couldn’t continue to wear the soiled garments; they’d only hinder her.
“The only clothes we have for you to change into are his,” I told her.
“I’d rather be naked than smell that fucker on me again,” she spat.
Scarlet grasped her other arm, and I released Luna to my friend’s guidance. Once they were in the bathroom, I shifted my attention to the earl.
I dreaded going any closer to him, but I had to make sure he was dead. Luna had unleashed years of pent-up rage on him, but that didn’t mean she finished the job. While it was doubtful she hadn’t killed him, we couldn’t take the chance he lived.
Leaning closer, I lifted my hand with the lightning so I could peer down at the unmoving body. She’d stabbed him so much that she’d carved open his chest and sliced his heart to shreds. The remnants of it lay outside his rib cage.
I didn’t have to see any more of the bastard to know the man who’d tormented Luna and bought Tucker’s home out from under him was dead. In the bathroom, the water turned on, and I went to join my friends.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ryker
“Why are you helping us, Samael?” I asked as I trailed him up the steps.
Instead of responding, he held out a hand to halt my movements as he paused at the top of the stairs and poked his head out the door. He studied the hall beyond before jerking his head to the side and exiting the stairwell.
I glanced back at Lawrence and Callan; they were starting to fade under the weight of the man they carried. Tears still streaked his face, but he’d finally stopped sobbing.
I followed Samael out of the stairway and froze when I spotted the dead soldier slumped against the wall. The man’s head sat in his lap. The rest of the hall, lit by the torches in their golden sconces, was empty.
“Your handiwork?” I asked Samael.
“You enjoy being free, don’t you?”
“Does this mean you’re switching sides?” Tucker asked.
Samael stopped outside the door and rested his hand on the knob. He turned back to look at us. “I’ve only ever been on my side.”
Those words were the most honest I’d heard in a while.
“At least you’re honest,” I replied.
Samael smiled before disappearing through the door. Ready to destroy anything that lay beyond, I followed him into a room.
Lifting my hand, I cast my lightning higher as Tucker closed the door behind him, shutting out the hallway. I recognized the room; I’d been in it before.
They stored the extra chain mail and suits of armor in here. Now, my lightning danced across the shiny surfaces to create a cascade of golden reflections around the room.
“Bring weepy this way,” Samael said as he strode toward a door in the back of the room.
As Callan and Lawrence carried him forward, I kept my senses attuned to our surroundings, searching for any hint of sound or some hidden presence amid the armor.
Tucker’s head swiveled as he searched the room. I kept my gaze on Samael’s back; I didn’t dare take my eyes off him.
Samael opened the door to reveal a small closet beyond. Rags and other assorted cleaning supplies crowded the shelves. At the bottom, a dented, damaged chain mail tangle cluttered the floor under a shelf.
Samael knelt and pushed the armor aside. The metal clinked and clattered as he revealed a small alcove tucked into the wall.
