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She opened up her mind, letting not just Cerberus in but anyone else. She wanted Delilah to hear her last thoughts as she raised the blade. Take good care of my boy.
“Rot in hell,” Dane hissed as his finger tightened on the trigger again, the deafening blast ricocheted off the underground walls as the hard reverberation of the rifle slammed into his shoulder.
Isaiah grunted and staggered back, blood bloomed from another hole, but his heart remained intact. He glared back at Dane with murder in his eyes and let out an unholy roar that shook the air like a nuclear explosion.
Cybil screeched and screamed, her body flinging into the bars like a primate, as she snapped her fangs. Isaiah lunged forward, halted only by the chains that pulled hard enough for dust to crumble from the wall. Dane stumbled back and a shrill howl ripped from his sister’s throat as she climbed like a spider up the bars, rattling them in their sockets.
Isaiah was far from dead as he turned into the shadows and yanked the chains, dislodging them from the wall and dragging them toward the bars. The whine of metal bending pierced the air as his blood-red gaze bore into Dane, lethal promise swirling in the muddy depths of his soulless eyes.
He quickly loaded the gun again, his panic making him clumsy as the bullets fell onto the floor.
“Dane!” Juniper yelled. “I think it’s time to go.”
He looked back at the cell and then to the door on the far end of the hall. If he ran, Isaiah would catch him. It was too late. “Go without me!”
“I’m not leaving you down here—”
A thunderous, blood thirsty roar interrupted her plea. The bars were getting wider apart.
Dane shoved another bullet into the rifle. And aimed it at Isaiah’s face. “Get out of here, Juniper! Run!”
Cybil raced to the far side of her cell and lunged at the adjacent wall, hurling herself at the stones and knocking herself to the ground. Like a deviant possessed, she got up and threw herself at the wall again. Dane cocked the gun and steadied his hold, training the muzzle on Isaiah who seemed distracted by Cybil.
“Don’t you fucking look at her, you filthy piece of shit.”
A low growl vibrated from Isaiah’s chest as he glared at him through blood-stained eyes. Mortar loosened in the separating wall, as stones crumbled to the ground of the cell. Isaiah’s head slowly turned back toward the connecting wall as a low growl turned into a purr.
Dane’s attention snagged on his sister, the scope of the gun angling toward her cell. Isaiah lunged forward, snatching the muzzle and yanking it free from his hands.
Dane sprang back, losing his grip of the rifle and tripping over his feet. “Fuck!”
Isaiah snapped the metal in half, tossing the gun aside like kindling. The separating wall disintegrated as stones fell in a cloud of debris and dust. He coughed and squinted, covering his head as the ceiling crumbled. The slow predatory growl fanned past his ear in a warm breath and he looked into blood-red eyes only inches from his face.
Isaiah was outside of his mangled cell and Cybil was behind him, crouched and panting. The empty cavity of her cell revealed how much their containment had been a joke.
Isaiah bared his fangs and snarled, roaring hard enough to blow the hair back from Dane’s eyes.
“Dane!” Juniper’s desperate voice broke through the chaos. “Run!”
Any sudden move and he’d be dead. He looked back at his sister, wishing he could see her one last time as the sweet girl she was.
He breathed through his last moments, certain any life that was this hard wasn’t worth living. His vision blurred as he looked up at the ceiling, wondering if his mother and father were somewhere looking down.
“Go now,” he said, with little inflection.
The witch stood but hesitated, the flames jumping from torch to torch as she lit up the hall. “Come with me.” The torches flickered and a burst of wind syphoned through the hall, distracting Isaiah. “Dane! This is our last chance!”
He scrambled to his feet and raced toward the exit. Juniper rushed toward the door, and Isaiah snarled at his back. Cybil screamed, and frantic energy swirled through the corridor as she sprang free from her cell and scaled the walls, racing along the ceiling only to drop down into a crouch, blocking their only exit.
Then everything stilled, and Juniper turned to face him, her mouth agape. “Oh my, Goddess.”
Every hair on his body stood on end. Cybil’s head hung low, wild, blonde hair encircling her youthful face as she seethed with uncontained rage. Her eyes locked on Juniper with murderous intent.
“Cybil, no—” Dane yelled, but it was too late.
She bolted for the witch, jaw snapping and her intent clear. The torches blazed, and Juniper screamed.
