Page 63 of Pride: Kneel Before None

Her absence left Tighe and me unsupervised while our father maintained strict order amongst tormented souls in the eighth circle of Hell.

Now here I stood, in a place known to be more horrifying than any of Hell’s rings of everlasting torture.

The gaunt-looking man before me—my brother, or what had become of him—stood behind steadfast bars. No inkling of jest in his demeanor. Only truth remained in those pale blue eyes of his.

“She came to see you?” I asked in complete disbelief. “What did she say?”

Despite her absurd business ventures, since when had Mother ever come to see her second-favorite child before visiting me? It was unfathomable. At least I pretended that her little potions smelled tolerable.

Tighe shifted on bare feet. The threadbare tunic he wore came to his knees and passed for the latest in prison-attire fashion, making scratchy noises with the slightest movement.

Hesitation twitched at the corners of his mouth. His eyes shifted, observing Ace’s foreboding presence. The stubborn bastard stood far enough behind me to give a modicum of privacy, his fingers never breaking contact with my spine that he occasionally stroked.

Ace read Tighe’s suspicion straight off the bat. He stepped forward. The heat of him radiated against me as his hand slid up the center of my back and settled on my shoulder with undisguised protectiveness.

“You’re right to be wary of me. I would be too if our situations were reversed. Trust me or don’t, but I’m your only shot at getting the fuck out of this shithole.”

My brother tilted his head, taking in how this particular Knight of Hell didn’t sugarcoat and cut straight to the damn point.

“I know who you are. I’ve heard stories—not all of them in your favor. Some of which make me question why my sister is here with you.”

Tighe didn’t sound impressed, far from it. Given his rounds on the party circuit where everybody shared gossip and bodily fluids alike, it didn’t surprise me that he had encountered stories about Sevenfold’s owner.

The two of them stood there locked in a staring contest, each measuring up the other. My brother the incubus thought he had a chance against someone like Ace.

Tighe broke eye contact first, returning his attention to me.

“Mother didn’t say much. Didn’t apologize, if that’s what you want to know.” A bitter scoff escaped him.

Of course she didn’t apologize for abandoning her children. Mother always believed she knew best. Whether it was best for her or for us remained unclear.

I folded my arms in front of me, hip cocked out to one side, looking at this unkempt version of my brother. The image was a far cry from the preppy frat-bro aesthetic he’d embraced before getting nailed on distribution of Glayze charges.

“She didn’t say much,” I repeated. “But she said something.”

Tighe’s knuckles popped as his grip tightened on the bars separating us. His jaw worked through the tension, clenching and releasing several times.

“You know how Mother is. Her words cost her. She offered a few pitiful attempts at reassurance, said that everything happens for a reason.”

My eyes rolled in knowing frustration. “Sounds like her. Always selling the grander picture,” I grumbled.

“Any other visitors?” Ace’s voice cut in.

With a roll of his shoulders, Tighe shrugged. “My attorney.”

Unsatisfied with ambiguity, Ace pushed for more like a greedy bastard. “He got a name?”

“Rowan Byrne. Why?” The wariness in my brother’s tone made it clear he refused to fully trust Ace. I couldn’t blame him. Even with our current dynamic, I didn’t put all my trust in him either.

A soft sound escaped the man protectively hovering behind me. It might have passed for something of amusement if not for the fact that we were standing in one of Superbia’s most dangerous penitentiaries.

“Needed to know who hasn’t been able to baffle the penal system with legal bullshit. Byrne’s a decent lawyer. You’ve got that going for you at least.”

Ace leaned down, his mouth coming to my ear. “Wrap things up, Little Spade. We are on borrowed time.”

Frowning, I nodded in acknowledgment.

Looking back at Tighe, my arms fell to my sides as I straightened my posture. “You’re going to get out of here, and when you do, we’re going to have a huge party. Bigger than the bash held at what’s-his-face’s two years ago.”