God of Destruction (23 page)

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Authors: Alyssa Adamson

Tags: #romance, #angels, #reincarnation, #prison, #young adult, #teenagers, #mythology, #theives, #captive

BOOK: God of Destruction
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It wasn’t a long time later that Taran and
James returned to the hotel room, rightfully deflated from their
failed attempt at finding the captives. James’s head hung as he
reached for the handle, his free hand fisted in his shirt while he
prepared himself to tell Alex that he was returning unsuccessful.
He shoved the door open.

Alex jumped away from the door as it opened,
jumping back to cover Claire and Kierlan while they, reluctantly,
broke apart. Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw James
stroll over the threshold. It was clear by James’s weary look of
defeat that they’d returned from their journey empty-handed.

Taran, on the other hand, was lit with a fire
from within as he stomped purposefully toward Russell, who sat,
bored and restless, right where they’d left him. Taran blindly
grabbed for one of the knives Kierlan had been playing with from
the dining room table and pressed the business end threateningly
against the rat’s throat.

“Holy sh—” Russell breathed, leaning
helplessly away from the blade.

“What are you doing?” Claire shrieked, her
fists still curled into Kierlan’s shirt. Beside them, Alex hadn’t
even noticed their newest addition’s emotional break, her eyes
still focused on James’s look of defeat.

After today, she knew the feeling.

Noting their compromised position and
Kierlan’s soft eyes staring down at her in confusion, Claire shoved
away from him before the others could notice.

“Where are they?” Taran roared, pushing the
rat’s chair back onto its hind legs so Russell couldn’t move. Red
pearls beaded up around the blade pressed to his throat.

“Taran!” James gasped, pulling the blade from
the assassin’s hand. Taran spun to face him, jaw dropped to protest
while he let the chair, and Russell, fall noisily to the floor.

“What’d you do that for?” Taran demanded.

“We can’t do this,” James insisted.

Kierlan shut the door slowly, having been
squished against the wall when they’d burst into the suite. He
cleared his throat, eyes flickering to Claire, who was noticeably
avoiding his gaze. “I take it you didn’t find them, then.”

“What was your first clue?” Taran snarled,
scowling distastefully down at the rat groaning on the floor.

Kierlan held his hands up in surrender.

“Give it back!” Taran snapped, reaching for
the knife in James’s hand.

James easily ducked away from him. “No.
That’s not how we’re going to do this. It’s not right.”

“Why not?” Kierlan inquired, pushing away
from the wall to take one of the other knives off the table. “You
wanna know where they are, he knows where they are. I don’t see a
problem with it.”

James narrowed his eyes. “I bet you
don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kierlan
countered towering over the other man when they stood
chest-to-chest.

“Only that we know nothing about you. I mean,
what are we supposed to do here, Cole? Welcome you with open arms
when, for all we know, this is all just a part of a plan of yours?
For all we know, your in league with
Natalia
! Your opinion
doesn’t matter here at all! How did you end up in the catacombs
when we were in trouble? And don’t feed me that line about tracking
him
! I think that’s
bullshit
!”

Kierlan shoved him away. “Let’s not forget
about
you
, either! You electrocuted me! You’ve been lying to
all your friends for God knows how long! You’re a
freak
, and
a dangerous one! Why should we trust
you
?”

“Guys, s…stop it!” Claire pleaded, pushing
against their shoulders to get between them. “James!”

“Don’t make this about him!” Alex enthused,
crossing the room and scowling up at Claire when they finally stood
toe-to-toe. “
He’s
our friend! Whose side are you on,
Claire?”

“Side? Th…there are no sides, Alex,” Claire
murmured. “There’s only us a…and them. You’re not helping the
situation this w…way.”

“Put those weird-ass powers away and watch me
put you in the ground, little man,” Kierlan snapped, balling his
hands into fists at his sides.

Taran, fuming, turned away from the bickering
group and took one of the many knives from the table. With his free
hand, he put Russell to rights, returning the blade to the sweaty
flesh of the rat’s throat. Russell’s chest immediately picked up a
quickening rhythm, the sound of his breaths louder to Taran than
the screaming behind him.

The captive gulped. “Woah, woah, woah!”

“I’m only going to ask you once before I pop
one of your eyes out of its goddamn socket, so listen
really
carefully. Where
is she
?” Taran demanded.

“W…who?” he replied.

Taran kept very still, a pleasant smile
forming on his face. His teeth glimmered between his taut lips.
“Wrong…freaking…answer!” He pulled the blade away from the man’s
neck for a short moment, only to grip it savagely in his entire
palm. Russell had no time to brace himself before Taran swung it
downward, butchering Russell’s thigh with a single swing.

Any problems the others had with each other
were immediately forgotten when Russell’s shrieks echoed through
the hotel. James was the first to turn, already moving to stop
Taran. He froze helplessly when he saw all the blood pooling in the
carpet.

“What’re you doing!?” he yelled.

Kierlan moved easily around him. “What does
it look like he’s doing? He’s getting answers. Something you were
too scared to do yourself. Claire, I think you and Alex should sit
in the bedroom.”

“No way,” Alex said, barely casting a glance
in Claire’s direction. “I want to hear what that bastard has to
say.”

Claire looked between them before her eyes
settled on Kierlan. She didn’t want to regret kissing him, but she
finally came to the conclusion that her timing had been less than
ideal. She winced, eyes shooting back to the floor. “M…me,
too.”

Kierlan nodded, studying her averted face
with narrowed eyes.

“We can’t do this,” James repeated. “If we
do, how are we any better than Natalia and what she’s doing
to—”

“Screw you, James,” Taran interjected. “I’ve
dealt with these people before, and all I can tell you is that they
won’t talk for anything less than this. If we won’t be using
them
as bait, what do you say we do? Do you want to find
them or not?”

James’s eyes guiltily appraised the remnants
of his friends around the room, lingering on Alex when she crossed
her arms, waiting for his answer. “There’s something you all should
know.”

Kierlan chuckled darkly. “Is there? Why am I
not surprised?”

James scowled at him out of the corner of his
eye but, otherwise, ignored his interruption. “When we went to the
prison to find Scottie and Hayden, I felt…something.” He paused,
taking a long, shaky breath.

“Felt…what, James?” Alex asked, all the anger
in her face replaced by something vulnerable. Her crossed arms
fell, reaching for him like he would ward off the inevitable,
impending pain.

He stepped backward, avoiding her touch.
“This doesn’t mean anything for sure, but there is a possibility
that, when we find them…Scottie and Hayden…and Janie,”—he added
with a pointed look at Taran—“…we won’t find them all.”

“What do y…you mean?” Claire inquired.

“When we looking for them, I felt something
in the air, something evil. I know it means that Mainyu has gotten
his powers back.”

Claire gasped.

“So we’re screwed?” Alex finished. “There’s
no hope?” She kicked Russell when his screaming continued with
fervor. He bit his lip, tears rolling down his bright red face.

He shook his head. “There is hope, there’s
always hope.”

“Then I don’t understand, James. What’s going
on?” Alex demanded, childishly stomping her foot.

“There’s only one way he would’ve been able
to regain his strength, and that’s with a human sacrifice.”

The wheels started turning in their heads,
but it was Claire who finally spoke what they were all thinking.
“S…so you think they s…sacrificed Scottie or Hayden?”

Taran hid the sting of fear in his chest
well, but it fueled his rage, nevertheless. “One way to find out,”
he said, glaring disgustedly down at Russell’s face. Russell’s eyes
were glued to the knife handle protruding from his leg, having
tuned out their conversation long ago.

Taran’s hand wrapped around the handle while
the other supported him on Russell’s unmarred thigh.

James clapped his hand down on Taran’s
shoulder. “Wait.”

“Get off me,” the unstable man ordered,
shaking him off. In one fluid movement, Taran yanked the blade from
Russell’s leg, opening the floodgates anew. They were sure his
screams could be heard through the entire city.

“Someone’s going to come looking for that
noise,” James muttered condescendingly.

“Shut up,” Kierlan snapped. “I think we
should start asking some questions.”

Taran nodded. “Go ahead. After that, I’m sure
he’s in a much better mood to answer them, aren’t you, you piece of
shit!”

Russell breathed deeply through his nose,
blinking away the moisture in his eyes. His pursed lips muffled his
dying screams, but, after a long moment, he nodded.

“Good,” Kierlan grinned. He continued in a
voice like an amused parent, “First of all, did your friends kill
their friends?”

Russell opened his mouth to speak, but,
instead of words emerging, he spat in Kierlan’s face.

Kierlan held his breath, repressing the urge
to kill him before they could make him talk, and, dramatically,
wiped his face with his shirt. No one dared to breathe, waiting for
his retaliation.

Kierlan said nothing, balling his massive
hand into a fist. Rearing back a few inches, knowing Russell
couldn’t move to avoid it, Kierlan threw his fist at the rat as
hard as he could, hitting him in the cheek with a strength that
claimed a satisfying
crack
.

“Shit!” Russell screeched, his chair leaning
precariously to the right. Taran caught it easily, settling it back
into place on the floor.

“Now that we’ve gotten
that
over
with,” Taran mocked, his words hissing past Russell’s ear, “let’s
get down to business.”

“I won’t tell you anything,” he insisted,
bracing himself for the next bout of pain.

No such thing came.

“Yes, you will,” Taran challenged, playing
with the knife in his hand.

Russell’s eyes flickered open. “Why would I
do that?” he demanded, watching the blade glint in the light,
tinted red with his own blood.

“Because you have no loyalties,” Kierlan
added. “You’ll sell out anyone and any
thing
if it meant
saving your own ass.”

Russell glowered up at him. “You’re right,
Kierlan. I would sell out
anyone
if it meant saving my own
ass. Anyone.”

“Good,” he grabbed Russell’s hair tightly,
yanking his head back so he was in position to cut his throat.
“Now, answer the question.”

“What was the question? What was it?!”
Russell pleaded.

“Who did your people do the sacrifice on?”
Taran repeated, praying to the God he didn’t believe in that it
hadn’t been his Janie.

“I don’t know,” the prisoner mumbled.

Kierlan pressed the burning metal further
into Russell’s neck. “You’re lying!”

“I’m not! I’m not! I swear to God, I’m not
lying! I swear, I don’t know!”

Claire watched the line of red bead up around
the knife and immediately felt her stomach flip. Forgetting
momentarily why she was there, she jumped to her feet, already
running toward the bathroom attached to the master bedroom. James
stole her seat on the couch beside Alex.

“Then you’re useless,” Kierlan said, ready to
kill him in that instant.


Wait
!” Russell shrieked. “Wait!”

Kierlan held his hand still, hoping he
wouldn’t regret it. “Ready to tell us?”

Russell gulped, trying, unsuccessfully to
make his neck thinner. “It was supposed to be him,” he explained,
glancing pointedly at Taran.

“Me,” he stated, cocking an eyebrow.

“Ya,” he affirmed, unable to nod. “The boss
had a problem with you or something, said that we were supposed to
kill you. That some guy would show us how. If it wasn’t him, they
could’ve used
anyone
. Natalia bought it, but I thought he
was a
lunatic
, but he was paying us a shitload of money, so
we—”

“So
that’s
why they kept me alive,”
Taran added, finally putting the pieces together.

“Wait,” James ordered. “Someone
hired
you to do this? Who?”

“We never saw the guy. He only left letters,
no return address, and by phone with Natalia, on a disposable
phone. We tried to find out, but it was like he didn’t exist at
all!” he explained desperately.

“When did he hire you?”

“I don’t know. December? A week before we
stole that stupid piece of paper from the British Museum.

James gasped, seeing Russell in a new light.
“That was—?”

“I thought he just wanted to sell it. Then he
got us to do stupid shit, like go to high school with you guys and
follow Claire around. Be friends with her. That’s all. Until last
month when he told us we had to go with her to Paris and do all
this! I swear to God if I’d known
this
was what he had in
mind, I wouldn’t have done it! I swear!”

Then Russell sobbed like a baby.

Everyone else convened in the room looked
from face to face, at a loss as to how they would proceed from
there. Kierlan shoved the knife into his pocket, kneeling so they
were at eye level. “Russell,” he murmured soothingly. “Where are
they?”

“Please don’t kill me,” he begged, squinting
through the tears in his eyes. “Please! I don’t wanna die!”

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