Fury of the Demon (Kara Gillian 6)

He blinked, looked from me to Bryce, then back to my hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he took it and stood. “What the hell?”

I gave him a reassuring smile. “Lord Mzatal cleared some of the abnormal fear Farouche instilled in you,” I told him. “I’m Kara Gillian. It’s good to finally meet you.”

“She’s not kidding,” Bryce added. “I’m free of him. Really free. You can be, too.”

“I don’t get it,” Sonny said, doubt paired with unmistakable hope in his voice. “How?”

I hooked a thumb toward the picnic table. “How about we sit down and talk. There’s a lot we need to cover.”

“Talk. Yeah. Okay.” He moved toward the table with me as though in a weird dream, gave a flickering smile to Paul. “Hey, kid. Ugly as ever.”

Paul grinned, joy and relief bright in his eyes. “Hey, Sonny. Still a total pain in the ass.”

Bryce followed. “All I’m asking is that you listen to what Kara has to say,” he said to Sonny. “You make your own decisions after that.”

Sonny regarded Bryce for a long moment, then gave a nod and sank onto the bench. I sat opposite him and, with Bryce’s help to fill in the gaps, quickly offered a thumbnail of who we were and why Mzatal was there, then moved on to how Farouche was holding people who we wanted back. When I finished, I took a deep breath and spread my hands out on the rough surface of the picnic table. “The bottom line is, do you want our help to get away from Farouche?”

Sonny swallowed, nodded. “I want out. I gotta get out.”

“Then we’ll make that happen,” I assured him. “First, Lord Mzatal has to finish clearing the hold that Farouche has on you. Once that’s done, we can talk more.”

A flicker of fear touched Sonny’s eyes, and Bryce reached across the table and put a hand on his arm. “Sonny, look at me,” he said firmly. “Look at Paul. You know damn well I couldn’t have set up something like this while under Farouche’s influence.” He let that sink in for a few seconds. “It works. We’re really free of him.”

“It’s true,” Paul confirmed with an emphatic nod.

Sonny rubbed a hand over his face as if checking to make sure he wasn’t daydreaming. “Uh, sure.” He looked around, glassy-eyed. “All right. What do I need to do?”

“Just relax,” I said.

Mzatal moved behind Sonny, laid his hands on his head. Sonny’s face went slack except for a crooked smile, as if he was enjoying some great painkillers. Paul gravely lifted his tablet and took a picture of his expression, and Bryce laughed.

“Blackmail,” Paul told me with a wink.

I smiled, even more pleased about the decision to get Sonny out. These men were obviously friends as well as coworkers, and now I saw that another layer of tension had peeled away from Bryce and Paul. Leave no man behind, I thought with satisfaction.

After another few minutes, Mzatal stepped back, and Sonny lost the good-drugs look.

“How do you feel?” I asked as Mzatal returned to his position behind me.

“Okay, I guess,” Sonny said, though he didn’t seem very certain of it.

“Now think about leaving Farouche’s employment.”

Fear flickered in his eyes for an instant in pure ingrained reflex, then his mouth dropped open. “That’s . . . impossible.”

“It’s normal,” I corrected.

“You’ll get used to it,” Bryce added.

“Now for part two,” I said. “And I’m sorry to forge ahead so quickly, but we’re hoping you can help us.” I gave him a second to acknowledge with a nod. “Bryce says you’re taking care of Angela Palatino.”

“I am. She’s at the plantation.” He flinched, as if expecting lightning to strike him for saying something so directly against Farouche’s interests then visibly forced himself to relax.

“She’s the mother of Idris Palatino, a friend of ours,” I told him, “and she’s being held as hostage to help ensure his cooperation.”

His mouth twisted. “I had a feeling it was something like that. Orders were to treat her well and tell her nothing.”

I leaned forward. “Here’s the kicker,” I said. “We have reason to believe Idris will be brought to the plantation within the next two days. Do you know anything about that?”