“He’s one of O’Hara’s inner circle,” Jaxon interjected.
“And you know this because?” Jaden asked, curious.
“He carries the mark,” Declan murmured.
Jaxon nodded. “Everyone in his inner circle does.”
“So what’s this intel?” Julian asked. His tone was clipped, and Jaden knew he w
as fast losing patience. They both were.
“I know you’re out there.”
Jaden glanced toward the prisoner. His eyes looked glassy, as if he were high. The man began to shudder, his chest heaving with the effort it took as he pulled air into his lungs. After a few seconds, he turned to them once more, his body bathed in sweat, and spit at them, as if he could see them, shouting furiously. “When the legions of darkness invade this realm, you will all be damned.”
Declan waved his hand. “Blah, blah, blah.” And the man was silenced once more.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the show and all, but do you know where my fucking father is or not? I’m assuming that’s why you hauled our asses clear across two countries.” Declan looked to the Castille brothers.
Jaden stepped closer to Julian, not even realizing she’d done so until her foot nudged the hardness of his boots.
Julian paid her no mind, his focus entirely on his brothers. “Where is he?” His words were controlled, precise, yet Jaden felt the tremors that ran underneath his skin. They were reflected in the energy that shimmered in the air around them.
“Well, I hope you’re all feelin’ lucky, boys, because as soon as Jaxon gives the go-ahead, we leave for Vegas.” Absolute silence greeted Jagger’s words.
“Las Vegas?” Declan asked incredulously. After a few moments, a wide smile cracked the tense set of his face, and he turned to Julian. “Un-fucking-believable, yet so perfect.” His dark eyes glittered though his voice was devoid of emotion.
The two men looked at each other, and Jaden saw their torment clear as day.
Declan nodded and looked past them to the prisoner inside. “Well, hello, Sin City,” he said softly, and, with one twist of Declan’s wrist, the prisoner stopped moving.
Permanently.
Deep in the bowels of Black Magick, Las Vegas’s newest casino, the air was bitter cold. It was a massive space befitting the large casino overhead, and was used for two things—storage and torture.
At the very back, tucked away and camouflaged behind a shield of magick, was a room. Inside, a lone male exhaled a mist of air that lingered for several seconds before evaporating into nothing. He was bare of clothing save for a tattered pair of jeans that hung low on his lean hips, and he shivered constantly. His feet were wet, and the harsh light that shone down on him was relentless.
It was a miserable, painful existence but one the man had grown accustomed to.
For six long months he’d been held captive, tortured beyond what any human would ever be able to endure, and even most who claimed the mantle otherworld. And he would survive. He had to. There was so much left to do.
The door slid open, and the voice he hated above all others slid into the space, echoing eerily against the iron-infused walls.
“Well, my old friend, are you going to make me happy today?”
His eyes opened slowly, the long lashes sweeping upward as black bled into the gold around his irises. He watched, careful to keep all expression from his face, as Cormac O’Hara stepped inside.
The silver of the man’s hair glistened against the never-ending light from above, and the skin of his face was smooth, free from wrinkles. He looked good, for an old son of a bitch. Cormac smiled then and walked forward to within an inch of his face. O’Hara was so close he could see the tiny blood vessels in his eyes.
He could smell the depravity that Cormac had ingested for lunch.
He tensed, though it took great pains to remain still. He was frozen, a macabre marionette with no will of his own other than what was locked deep inside his mind. His arms were spread wide as if they were wings, which was sadly ironic.
Considering his origin.
“I am running out of patience, my friend.” O’Hara smiled then, his tone soft, cajoling. “Are you not tired of this game? Tell me where the portal is, and I can end it.”
His muscles bunched and he gritted his teeth as his mind closed.