Page 41 of Ravaged Devotion

Even if he could never be with the Black Hart the way he’d always imagined, he’d settle for them going back to the way things were.

He’d settle for getting his best friend back.

“That’s your style,” Ryker growled, “not mine.”

He was though. His pace picked up even more, as though he were trying to get away even though they were both headed in the same direction.

The main lobby branched off in two directions at the foot of the stairs, left to head to the dining hall, and right to the largest lounge area. Ryker made a beeline for the latter, and Rue followed, not realizing why until they’d reached it and the Black Hart came to a sudden stop.

The lounge area was open, the sliding doors left wide and tucked into the walls. The long bar was visible first, though no one was behind it this early. The space was large enough it’d been split into two, with identical resting areas complete with a long couch, armchair, and fireplace. The wall opposite the bar was another floor to ceiling window. Rue had popped his head in yesterday and gotten a look at the rest of the area, so knew what to expect. At least, he thought he did. As soon as they were at the threshold, the chaos that had ensued inside was apparent.

The blood was the first noticeable thing. There was a pool of it by the fireplace that occupied the wall furthest from the entrance, then a smear across the floorboards, leading a few feet to the body.

Harlow Smith, one of the board members, was propped against an armchair, head tipped back, eyes peering sightlessly. His mouth was partially open, hand still over his stomach, where blood continued to drip between his fingers. There was a fire poker on the ground nearby, and his wife had been laid out on the coffee table by the fireplace closest to the door.

She’d been stabbed in the area where her heart was located, and it must have happened sometime in the past ten minutes. Her face was pale and she was crying, but the sounds were almost quiet now, broken.

Darae Corvina was attempting to staunch the blood flow, smears of crimson across her cheeks and over her arms.

In the corner between one wooden wall and the window, a man dressed in the employee uniform was being guarded by two coworkers who looked like this was the worst day of their lives.

There was a small crowd around that area, Uriel at the window, Penn, Hollis, and Esti standing off to the side.

“Guy went berserk,” Penn said to Ryker, stepping over toward them once he spotted them there. “Mid-sentence. He just picked up the poker and stabbed Harlow. When Delta tried to get between them after the fact, he went after her next. Uriel knocked the employee out.”

Rue’s mother stormed into the room, the coordinator hot on her heels. “Service is down,” she announced. “We can’t call for an ambulance yet.”

Rue checked his multi-slate. No signal.

“She’s bleeding out!” Darae stated frantically, then glared at Cosima. “Do something!”

“Tod,” Cosima motioned to one of the employees who was guarding the unconscious man. “Go outside and check if the lines in the pool house are down.” She turned back to Eulalie and explained, “They’re on a different system. If he can get a call out from there, the nearest hospital is—”

“Thirty minutes away,” Ryker filled in, staring at Delta. “She’s got ten minutes, tops.”

“What?!” Darae shook her head in disbelief.

“She won’t make it,” he insisted, mouth closing when Rue tugged pointedly on his sleeve and gave him a look.

“Still, we need to report this,” Cosima replied, trying her best not to seem as shaken as she clearly was. One of her employees had just murdered a guest—potentially two. “The police are the same distance. They’ll come with an ambulance. Tod. Hurry and go check.”

“He shouldn’t go out there,” Uriel spoke, his tone low enough it should have been missed amongst the heightened state of the room, and yet everyone seemed to pause and turn to him at once. He was staring out the window, and Rue finally realized how strange the view was.

The floor to ceiling pane of glass was at least fifteen feet tall, and yet the entire view was obscured by a thick wall of white and gray fog. He’d never seen anything like it before, and for some inexplicable reason, it sent chills down his spine.

“No one should,” Uriel added.

“With the weather like this, no one is going to be able to make it up the mountain,” Hollis said, but the Black Hart clicked his tongue.

“Even if they could, they shouldn’t.” Uriel partially turned, just enough to find Ryker. “There’s something out there.”

Penn chuckled, then came to the conclusion that it wasn’t a joke when neither of the Black Harts joined in. “What? Like deer?”

Uriel gave a curt shake of his head, eyes still on Ryker, as though they were sharing a telepathic conversation. His expression was grim, tight in a way Rue had never seen on his face before.

When he looked over at Ryk, he saw he was now wearing much the same look.

“What’s he saying?” Rue asked, shifting closer without meaning to.