Del Diablo (Stygian Isle 0.50)

It was meant to convey a sense of unity and equality for the men of the sect while within the home of our sacred temple. It didn’t matter what one wore or looked like because most were equal.

“How is she?” Corbin asked, falling in step on one side of me as Kyle fell in on the other.

“As you can expect her to be. Is Isaac still with the friend?”

“So far he hasn’t found her worth keeping around,” Corbin replied.

“That’s a shame. I was hoping to at least keep Della’s friend alive.”

“She’ll have Gwyneth now,” Kyle pointed out. “That will be better for her, someone that can help her transition on the Isle.”

I nodded in agreement.

“How is Isa?” I directed at Kyle.

“Restrained and partially sedated for the time being. Our baby is fine and healthy, though.”

“Good.”

I left it at that. He wasn’t supposed to have slept with her yet, but once they started, they hadn’t stopped.

Her falling pregnant was the only thing that saved him from being punished for his lack of self-control. He was also too deep in as our informant to pull him out. Besides this transgression, he’d done a remarkable job inserting himself into Della’s life.

I understood where he’d been coming from concerning Isa. If I had to standby and watch Adelita go around town with another man, I was liable to have done the same. It was easier to simply kill off anyone who didn’t heed the warning to stay away.

“Is everything ready for the ceremony?”

“Just about. Gwyneth should be arriving soon to help Del prepare,” Kyle replied.

I felt as if I could breathe somewhat easier now that everything was coming full circle. After tonight, the life she had been living would be nothing more than a memory. She would go on to become someone else.

I was going to be her future, and that was the only thing that would matter so long as life flowed through her veins.

CHAPTER NINE

I didn’t touch the food. It wasn’t trustworthy. I paced the room as far and wide as my chain allowed me, desperately trying to think of a way out of this. I couldn’t help but think this was all my fault.

I’d been such a fool.

I was on my fifteenth round when the door swung open again. Instead of Draven, three women came in carrying various items in their hands. All were wearing long gowns with a leviathan cross-stitched into the upper portion of the fabric, a twisted badge of honor.

“Adelita!” A familiar voice squealed in excitement. A shiny-haired blonde rushed towards me, her big blue eyes lit with joy.

“Gwyneth?” I braced for the impact of her body colliding with mine, stiffening when her slender arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace.

She stepped back with furrowed brows, glaring down at my iron belt like it’d personally offended her. “That just won’t do. I told Draven it wasn’t necessary.” With a cluck of her tongue, the other two women came deeper into the room, one held a black veil and the other held a box of what looked like tubes of paint inside.

“Let’s get you all prettied up, shall we?” She spun me around with a surprising show of strength, so my back was to her. “Not that there’s much to do. You’ve always been such beautiful and sweet. You’re going to be the perfect addition to our new family.”

“What is going on, Gwen?”

“Didn’t Draven explain it?”

My hair was lifted over my shoulder, left to hang down over my breasts.

Right, I had to remember she was related to him. I hadn’t thought of her once since being in here but now that she’d arrived, I felt somewhat betrayed. I’d befriended her out of genuine kindness. I doubted she could say the same. She’d probably been in it all along.

This wasn’t something someone planned in the spur of the moment. What was happening had been in the works for some time. Draven knew my father somehow. He’d mentioned my mother before too.

A rush of renewed anger had me contemplating spinning around and punching Gwyneth in the goddamn face, but she had an abundance of issues. Pissing her off while helpless and chained to a wall was a colossally bad idea.

“Can you tell me what will happen exactly at this…ceremony?”

“Everything that needs to,” she replied cryptically, ignoring any further attempts I made to get any more answers.

My hair was pulled back in an elegant updo the veil that clashed horribly with the white gown I had on clipped to the top. Face-paint decorated my flesh so that I too had the appearance of Muerte.

Gwyneth led me forward by a chain now secured around my wrists instead of my torso. The women that had assisted her were nowhere to be seen now, replaced by four robbed men that guided us from a lower level of the Rothwell to the top.