Page 64 of Pride: Kneel Before None

The first spark of my brother I remembered returned to his eyes. A fond recollection of a point in time where all we had to worry about was who bought the next round.

“Fane does know how to host a killer party,” he admitted, a quiet sadness in how he spoke.

My voice lowered to the gravest oath I’d ever give. ”Rip isn’t going to get away with what he did.”

There was something in my brother’s eyes at the mention of the demon who bore responsibility that had never been Tighe’s to serve for a crime he didn’t commit. It was the weight of guilt with a dose of self-loathing that could eat away at one’s soul.

“Eve, don’t get yourself mixed up with that son of a bitch.”

“Too late for that,” Ace unhelpfully added.

I shot a warning look over my shoulder that went ignored. Turning back to Tighe, I put on my bravest face as my hands wrapped around the bars just below where his were. “You’ll be hitting up the clubs in no time. We’ll rent out one of the floors at Acedia for you.”

“The whole club.” The offer came from Ace with a surprising amount of genuine generosity.

My brother’s hands slid down, his palms covering the back of my hands. On contact, his face lit up. His eyes stared at me as if he had just discovered a missing puzzle piece lodged between couch cushions.

Before he could say a word, Ace’s hand fell to my waist and tugged me back against his chest. The contact between my sibling and me was severed.

“Time to go.” All demand, no warmth.

I opened my mouth to protest but got cut off by his sharp tone.

“Now, Genevieve.”

Despite being guided away, I got one final glimpse of Tighe when I looked back. He remained standing there in his cell, watching as Ace escorted me down the path.

“Ace!” he barked, his face pressed against the bars to maintain eye contact. “Make sure you know what the hell you’re dealing with! She’s not stable!”

The corridor swallowed up the echo of his words behind us.

Several attempts to reply to Tighe about his warning were met with Ace being a stubborn asshole who frog-marched me straight back the way we had come.

“Keep moving.” Another brusque order from him.

Once we were back through the archway that represented the barrier between this cell block and the main building, the reptilian guard stood waiting for us with a stopwatch in his hand.

It clicked louder than something so small should have.

“Shame. The tides were shifting in favor of Wassagor’s snack time. Suppose he’ll have to suffer hunger another day,” he stated with cold indifference as he pocketed the watch.

I gawked at the guard. “Snack time?”

The question went unanswered. Ace’s hand anchored itself to my upper arm and kept pulling.

In passing, he gave the guard his false gratitude.

“Thank you for your hospitality and patience. Send our regards to the warden.”

By the time we were back in the helicopter, my hand rubbed along the top of my arm.

“What the hell was that?!” I glared at him.

Ace reached over and gave another tug of my harness to ensure it was secure. “While you were having your family reunion, I was monitoring how much time we had left before Blackscale’s favorite beast decided to keep us.”

He sat back in his seat, unfazed by my scowling.

“The ledge in your brother’s cell? The fog you saw? It stopped. When it began rising again, there was an amber hue to it. Wassagor’s breath turns sulfuric when he’s preparing to feed.”