Devil's Own (16 page)

Florian smiled, an odd half-rueful, half-proud lopsided grin. “Yes, my son Titus.” Then he scoffed aloud. “Oh, I knew all about that sordid business, about Tia and her gallery, and my son finding his way to me under the pretense of a shared faith.”

“Titus was… your son?” Ida asked, her eyes big and her mouth hanging open. “But… but you said he was a gold digger, just after your money, and that’s why you killed—”

Florian slapped Ida on the cheek. She cried out and fell back on the altar, sobbing and curling up into a ball. “Stupid slut. Of course Titus was after my money. Why else would his mother have sent him to me, disguised as a loyal disciple?”

“You’re wrong. I didn’t send him to you. Contrary to my wishes, he wanted to meet his father.”

Surprised, Niall tried to turn his face to see who the woman was who spoke. But being tied up made that virtually impossible. Only when she stepped into the circle of lights did Niall see her. The woman was tall and distinguished in an immaculate trouser suit, with long silvery gray hair flowing down her back and dark blue eyes full of cold fury.

The gun she held in her hand, the barrel pointed at Florian, sent the same message of fury loud and clear.

“Patience, how lovely to see you again,” Florian said with an arrogant smile.

“You murdering bastard,” Tia spat out vehemently, icy flames in her eyes. “You killed our son. He wasn’t after your riches. He wasn’t like that. You murdered him for no reason.”

“Not for no reason.”

A younger, high-pitched female voice came from lower down, near the altar. All eyes veered to Ella, who had sneaked off the altar and was now crouched near a huddled man bound to another metal pole and gagged for good measure. Ella held a knife at his throat, pinning it against the skin. In the low light, it was hard to see the man’s face, but Niall was pretty sure he recognized him.

“Deon…,” Tia whispered, confirming Niall’s suspicion that the man was Tia’s brother, the Talbot family attorney, and more than likely Tia’s inside man. In any case, the distress in Tia’s voice enforced Niall’s hunch that for now Florian had the upper hand, and should Tia be forced to lower the gun, Niall was afraid for all of their safety.

“Your brother thought he could get his hands on the family records and documents,” Florian said with a cruel chuckle. “Money-grubbing, just like Titus.”

“No…,” Tia whispered, horrified. “Deon is nothing like Titus. Was. Is. Never.”

Florian shrugged, indifferent. “You’re the apple of my eye, my love, but Titus was the apple that didn’t fall far from the Lansdowne family tree. Perfect example: Deon.”

At that remark, Ella laughed merrily. “You old hag, did you really think my father would simply hand over the keys to the empire to Titus? Fool.”

Tia frowned, perplexed. “
Your
father…?”

Ella lifted her chin proudly, her deep eyes gleaming dangerously and madly in the firelight. “Florian is my father. I am his daughter, his apprentice, his heir. I believe in all the same things he does. We are one in spirit and blood.” She locked gazes with Florian, ever the devoted follower. “Shall I kill this man? Would that please you, Father?”

As her hand pressed the blade closer to Deon’s flesh, blood trailed down his neck.

“No!” Tia cried out, sorrow and pain vivid in her strained voice. “Florian, if you ever loved me—”

“
I
am the one my father loves and adores, not you!” Ella screamed, rising to her feet and fretfully brandishing the knife before her. Her eyes blazed with madness, her jaw set in grim determination.

“You are my daughter,” Florian said, coming to stand behind her. “Therefore you were always meant to be my finest sacrifice. One of blood and devotion.”

Ella glanced over her shoulder at him, nonplussed.

Niall pulled on his bonds with all his might but couldn’t free himself even an inch.

Then Ella’s body jerked forward, and she grunted low, a desperate animalistic sound.

“In the name of Satan, Lucifer, Belial, and Leviathan, my dear Ella, I give thy undying soul to the princes of hell. In this decrepit wilderness of grass and stone, I raise up my voice that you may hear. To the East and to the West I beckon, to the North and to the South I proclaim: death to the weakling, wealth to the strong. Yes, I shall break every chain that does not lead to my earthly happiness and success.” Florian sounded cool and composed, as though he were reciting a verse from the Bible, and he probably was, too, Niall surmised, but paraphrasing the Satanic Bible.

At the end of Florian’s pseudoreligious rant, Ella collapsed on the ground, a dagger stuck in her back. Florian laughed, undoubtedly just like he had when he’d frightened Angelina back at the mansion on the night of Titus’s murder. Ida whimpered, dropped down from the altar, and scurried off, crawling on the ground in fear to get away. Tia stood frozen in place, staring in utter shock, apparently having momentarily forgotten she was holding a gun.

“See, my love?” Florian said, as though he had done them all a service. “I would never let anyone harm you. You are mine, always were, still are.” He shook his head in a reproachful way at Tia. “You shouldn’t have run and hidden from me. You could have stayed with—”

“With Goddard?” Tia finished, her face pale but resolute too. “After you raped me? After the threats of hurting him? After I became pregnant with your child, betraying my husband?” Her look was that of pure, unadulterated righteous fury. “You’re sick, insane.”

Florian laughed again. “No, my love, I’m not mad. I will be that in case I get caught, of course, providing a spectacle for the authorities. But you and I shall be together again. Forever.”

“What about Farrah?” Niall asked, sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong. But Florian could kill either Deon or Tia, so he had to turn Florian’s attention away from them. “You do remember her, don’t you, Florian? Goddard’s second wife? Farrah, the innocent woman who loves Goddard with all her being? The one you brutally violated and left for dead, chained up in the secret passage?”

“W-what…?” Shocked, Tia stared at Niall in utter terror and anger.

Niall needed to keep Florian off balance so he might end up making a costly mistake. “And what about Millicent, Florian? Why did you have to kill her in the underground altar room? What justification did you have for that?”

Florian’s eyes flashed hard, and he wasn’t laughing anymore. “Aunt Millicent was always nosing about. The dear widow Talbot who knew all the tawdry secrets of the house and its hidden ways, but who always turned a blind eye, pretending she didn’t see what was going on. Yet, in secret, every damn night, she bowed her head to Lilith. But in broad daylight, in public? Ever the proper, dutiful matriarch. She made her choice. I made mine.”

“Millicent was shocked to find Farrah in the secret passage, chained to the wall,” Niall continued, battling with the bonds that held him in place but with limited success. Yes, he did feel a slight loosening, but he couldn’t be sure, and it wasn’t enough to set him free. “Up till then she might have looked the other way at her nephew’s debaucheries, but I think that day she realized you were beyond redemption. She was going to tell the police about you, wasn’t she?”

Florian grimaced with a low snarl. “She found me in the altar room and confronted me. She was a Satanist, just like me. She worshipped Lilith, Dark Queen of the Underworld. Yet she had the audacity to repeat the sacred word to me, stating that one should make no sexual advances without the mating signal being given. She told me I went against the Satanic Law in my actions. She dared to scold
me
? No, I wasn’t going to have that.” He shrugged, his dark eyes gleaming with delight. “As The Satanic Bible commands, ‘If a guest in your lair annoys you, treat him cruelly and without mercy.’ So I did away with her, like a speck of dust.”

“You vile, murdering fiend…,” Tia muttered, in shock, her expression that of disbelief as she backed away from Florian. Niall noted she still held the gun in her hand.

Florian smiled at that. “Come now, my love. You know you don’t mean that. You and I, we were meant to be. Farrah meant nothing to me. She was just a… a replacement for you. An echo of the real siren in my life.”

Was Florian really that crazy, Niall wondered feverishly. Could the man truly believe he had a snowball’s chance in hell of reuniting with Tia? Or was this some kind of elaborate hoax, a trick to ensure the death of each and every witness to Florian’s continued existence? Was that what the two women in his life, Ella and Ida, on the altar had been about? Human sacrifice…?

I have to get free, dammit!

Since Tia was slowly maneuvering herself toward her brother Deon, that left Niall out of Florian’s direct line of sight. The rope was giving way, more with each twist of his wrists. But it was slow progress, and time was running out.

Suddenly, nimble but shaky fingers gripped the rope and began to unfasten it with great haste. Niall was puzzled but kept his eye on Florian and Tia. Was it Ida come to help him, now that she knew what kind of man her brother was at heart?

“When we get home, Niall, I’m so gonna strangle you.”

Niall let out a small sigh when he heard Gus’s soft, trembling voice. The sobbing made Gus’s words and breath catch, and with every fiber of his being, Niall longed to hold his lover in his arms and soothe his troubles and wash away his fears.
I love you, Gus
. “Where’s Hughes?” he whispered.

“Around. He’s got a couple of guys with him. They’re going to try to surround and box Florian in.” Gus was finally able to free Niall from the ropes.

“Go back to the shadows, Gus. Now. I’ll take Florian.” Niall tried to shift his weight so he could spring up on his feet with ease and speed to Florian to take him down before the man realized what was happening. He would have to be quick, fast as lightning.

But it was already too late.

Ida lurched into the circle of light from the darkness, screaming like a banshee, headed straight for Florian, murder in her eyes. “Murderer! I trusted you!”

Niall saw the flash of a blade in the flickering light as Florian pulled out a knife from behind his back. There was no more time for subtleties and strategies.

Jumping to his feet, Niall dashed toward Florian and Ida, angling to find a protective spot between them and prevent Florian from committing yet another killing, this time his own sister. “Florian, stop!”

Unfortunately, Tia had also started to advance toward Florian, and she was aiming the barrel of her gun at Florian. Niall would have thought he, Tia, and Ida together would have shown Florian he was cornered from all sides and that he should give up then and there.

But Florian wasn’t on board with the surrender plan. With an almost lazy casualness, he threw the knife into a spin toward Ida.

Desperate, Niall reached for the weapon midair, even knowing he’d lose his fingers or the whole hand as the sharp metal spun around on its axis.

But he missed the knife entirely. The whoosh sounded loud in his ears, and he felt the air rushing past his skin like a mocking caress.

He didn’t get the chance to see if the blade toss had hit its target when he felt a strong arm wrap around his neck and squeeze hard. His chest was on fire as he fought for air, and colorful spots danced in front of his eyes.

“Dumb fuck. I’m gonna sacrifice you to Satan on this altar and leave behind nothing but a blood-soaked mess. Even your momma won’t be able to recognize you,” Florian cursed roughly in Niall’s ear, and his grip grew so tight Niall almost feared for his life.

Almost. Disrespecting Niall’s dead mother evaporated all traces of fear.

Niall elbowed Florian in the side as hard as he could, and the choke hold loosened as Florian grunted in pain. But Niall didn’t stop there, well aware he needed to incapacitate his foe as quickly as possible. He delivered another blow with a fist to Florian’s balls, then slammed the man’s nose with the back of his hand and finally gave Florian a hard kick on the shin.

Next thing he knew, Niall was free, gasping for breath as Florian’s arm disappeared from around him.

But the respite lasted mere seconds, and then something hard struck him on the back of the head. Pain shot through his body and blinded him, and Niall dropped to one knee, bracing himself poorly, his balance lost. If Florian had another weapon, Niall was in a heap of trouble.

“Let him go!”

With blood pounding in his ears, deafening him, Niall still heard Gus screaming. And through a shimmering haze, he saw Gus had jumped on Florian’s back and was whacking the man with all his might.

“Jesus…,” Niall managed to mumble as he stumbled on his feet, frantic to get to Gus before Florian got ahold of him.

But Florian already had the upper hand. He grabbed Gus by the arm, bent over fast, and tossed Gus over his shoulder. Gus landed on the grass with a thud and a painful moan.

That was when Niall sprinted toward Florian and tackled him like a quarterback. They hit the stone altar, but because of their speed and force, they rolled right over it in a pile of limbs, dropping on the ground hard. Both fought with every ounce of their being, and Niall felt not only Florian’s strength, but his mad resolve to win by killing the other combatant.

Somehow, Florian’s elbow made swift contact with Niall’s cheekbone, sending waves of nausea, pain, and disorientation roaring through him. Niall felt like a sack of limp noodles as Florian dragged him up on his shaky feet and pinned his back against the altar, his hand over Niall’s chest. Out of the corner of his eye, Niall saw a blood red inverted pentagram carved on the stone.

A bright flash revealed to Niall that Florian indeed had another weapon. He must have taken it from the altar. Past the shiny blade above him, Niall saw the look in Florian’s eyes: death and darkness, the will and determination to kill, the inclination to take a life without remorse or guilt.

I’m going to die
.

S
UDDENLY
,
A
gunshot rang sharp and deafening in Niall’s ears. Above him, Florian jerked. Niall found himself praying Florian had been hit.