Page 88 of Marked
“Four hours ago,” Markus says. “Lock Lake thought we should know.”
“Cap ... You’re gonna have to tell her.”
I nod. “She needs to know.” My hand tightens around the photos of Lilah’s now dead guardian. Victor Despacito will never come for her again, will never send someone after her.
My only regret? It wasn’t me that offed him.
“Ruin. There’s more.” Markus’ voice makes me set the folder down. “We got Interpol’s file in.”
My head goes between them all. “Then why the hell are we standing around? We got facial recognition software running, right, T?” I look at the shifter and his body rocks from foot to foot. I frown. “What the hell is going on?”
Markus holds up another picture, this one even more familiar than the first. “This is Vlad Dracul, Barnabus Emil, Louis Nosfer...” I stare at the face of the man that Interpol connected to the deaths of over three hundred supernaturals in the US alone.
The vampire from Carnage, Draven Frost, is in profile, his blond hair coiled back from his face above a pair of leather pants and early dark ages shirt. He looks like he is moments from stepping onto a stage somewhere.
“Is this a joke?”
“No, Ruin. It is not.”
“The names all make sense.” T’s voice filters into my ears. “He picks aliases based on famous vampires from pop culture. Hell, he was the performer at Carnage. It would explain the brochures to the ballet, Cap. Maybe it’s a new cover.” I remain quiet. “That’s a lead, man.”
“We figure he was probably watching Vic to make sure the fucker wasn’t taking a cut from the top, feel?” Gage asks, and his distinct steps come near. “When Vic got in county, Vlad–Draven– Whatever his name is ... He probably hired someone on the inside to make sure Vic didn’t squeal.”
I can vaguely feel my head bobbing in agreement. But inside I’m cursing myself over and over for not listening to my gut.
For not shooting that fucker when he ripped out the shifter’s throat on that stage.
“You know this means Lilah is the only one left.” Caine’s question is the one that lifts my head, that draws my focus from the mass of loathing and rage swirling in my gut.
“Yeah, but he wants her for other reasons.” My voice is empty, hollow, but I can’t get Draven’s focused stare out of my head now. How those gold eyes were locked on Lilah like he wanted to take her apart to see how she works.
Caine’s hellfire gaze watches me from just beyond Gage’s shoulder. With his arm in a sling, I expect the other man to appear less dangerous, less capable.
He doesn’t.
“We get him, Ruin, before he finds her.” He watches me as I watch him. The look in Caine’s eyes tells me he has no problem playing the demon to my conscious. And I have no problem having him there.
A heavy hand lands on my shoulder. “We don’t need to worry about that,” Markus says into the tension. “Lilah is here. In Eternity custody. We can protect her, and we will.”
Except we couldn’t protect her from the vamp at Lock Lake. Couldn’t stop Draven from getting close at Underground, or from setting the stage for the blonde hostess.
No. The colony can’t protect Lilah. Not really.
Not while Draven is alive.
My eyes bore into Caine’s, and I know that he understands better than even Gage or Tanner.
They like Lilah just fine. Respect her. Admire her.
But Caine and I will kill for her.
I give a small nod, and the others seem to relax.
They think I am agreeing with the King, backing down and letting justice win out. I’m not. I’m giving my final order. The only one that may really matter in my lifetime.
We won’t be bringing Draven in in cuffs. There will be no processing, no paperwork.
Because they will never find the body. And the demon and I will make sure of it.
