Page 53 of Deviant

“Devin will be pleased to hear that.”

“It all seems a lot of effort considering she’ll be dead as soon as he gets his hands on her.”

“I highly doubt that.” I reply. If I know my brother, he’ll string it out, do what I’ve done with my own wife, make sure the bitch pays. “But we have bigger fish to fry. The Esau are back.”

“What?” He snaps. “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Anthony Wallis was one of them. They’re looking to go for Chapter Lord, too.”

“You have competition.” He taunts.

I can’t help but laugh at that. I guess I do. Stiff competition. But where would be the fun if I didn’t? After all, victory always taste better when it’s been hard fought over and won.

“What do you need me to do?” he asks, leaning over the desk, suddenly looking so eager to help for a change.

“Marry the Monclere girl.” I state. It’s simple, easy. If I had my way, he’d already be down the aisle and balls deep in her.

He scowls. “Anything but that.”

“If you want us to be the ruling family, then sacrifices must be made.”

“Says the man who murdered his own wife.” He sneers.

I guess in some ways he’s correct, but that wasn’t the plan. No, I’d married the woman happily. Had taken my vows seriously when I made them. It was her that ruined it, her that destroyed everything we had.

And in many ways it was her who made me who I am now, strong, smart, prepared to do whatever it takes to ensure the Blake family always comes out on top.

He gets up, leaving me to it, and I pull my phone out, once more connecting to the camera in the basement. I can see she’s clearly asleep now. I can see from the way she’s lying that her exhaustion got the better of her.

I’ll give her a little time. Give her space to lick her wounds.

And then I’m going to fuck with her head even more than I already have. Poor little thing won’t have a clue what’s hit her, and if it goes to plan, she’ll be so shocked, she’ll be putty in my hands.

He gives me a week. One week.

And then I’m dragged out, pulled from my cell, and I try to prepare myself for the next round of this horror show.

To my relief, we don’t go up, we don’t go out, we walk down the corridor so at least we’re not going back to Oblivion, though I doubt whatever is coming will be any less unpleasant.

When we enter the room, I freeze, staring at the man strapped into the chair, then back at the psycho holding my arm.

Is this real? Is this happening?

“What is this?” I ask, my voice sounding strained from lack of use. My tongue is not exactly healed but it’s less swollen, and I’m at least able to eat properly, which on some levelis a blessing.

“Don’t you want to know who set you up?” Magnus murmurs into my ear as I shudder at our proximity. “Don’t you want to look at the man who told us exactly what you were up to?”

I gulp, staring at Saul, not believing a word of it.

As our eyes connect, I feel a flash of guilt that I haven’t even considered what might have happened to him. After all, we were meant to meet and he was a no-show. I knew the Brethren had something to do with it. I knew it, and yet I never questioned if he was okay, if he was safe, not once after they caught me. No, instead I focused on myself like the selfish arsehole that I am.

“An, An, Ana,” Saul stammers, no doubt taking in the state of me, though he looks just as bad as I do.

“Not a word,” Magnus snaps, cutting across him.

I take a step forward, seeing all the bruising, all the ways in which he too has been beaten and tortured.

“What have you done to him?” I gasp. His shirt is torn, hanging limply from his body. His hair is stuck to his head from both grime and sweat. I know I’m hardly one to talk but he absolutely stinks.

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