Page 294 of When We Fall: Part Two
“So he and Dante aren’t working together?”
“Fuck no. Dante hates him probably more than you do, and that’s saying something. Besides, who do you think set the fire? Sure as hell wasn’t Everett’s men. Dante employs a pyromaniac and hell of a lot of animosity.”
“I want to speak to Dante,” I said, taking in the information on Everett, my throat tight. “No fucking games. Face to face. He and I need to have a chat.”
“You want to arrange a meeting with a man more dangerous than Everett Church?” Sylar raised a brow at me.
“Yes.”
“A man who could take over this city with the snap of his fingers? A man who eats all he kills?” He licked his lips and cocked his head to the left at me. “A man who will rule the underbelly of this city in only weeks?”
“Yes,” I snarled.
Sylar ate more ice cream, nodding his head as he swallowed. “Damn. This shit is good. Have you tried it?—”
I swatted his sundae away. It landed on the floor, sending the remaining ice cream, chocolate sauce, and whipped cream exploding across the tiles.
He sighed, and I watched as he reached onto the seat next to him and brought another sundae onto the table.
“I knew you were going to do that. By the way, prick move.” Sylar stabbed his fork into his sundae and resumed eating.
“Sylar—”
He held his finger up and pulled his phone out. I watched as he messed around with it for a moment before putting it on speakerphone. It rang, and a deep voice picked up.
“He’s busy.”
“Malachi,” Sylar greeted him. “It’s urgent. Put him on.”
“It’s your funeral,” the guy named Malachi muttered. I knew him. He was Church’s adopted brother. I’d never spoken to him before, but I knew he was exceptionally close to Church. Everett considered him a prized possession. Rumor had it that Everett had hurt him just like he’d hurt E. Some fucking father.
Piece of shit.
I’d been over it on repeat in my head on how I should have killed Everett when I had the chance. How all of this may have been avoided had I just killed the asshole. Now Fox was gone, E had been hurt, and LeeLee was missing.
It was a demon I was currently battling.
The sound of movement preceded muffled voices.
“What is it?” a voice demanded.
“Dante. I’m here with the Archangel. He wants to speak to you. You’re on speaker, by the way.”
“What the fuck do you want?” Dante demanded.
“I want Rosalie,” I said, deciding to forgo asking if he had her and act like I already knew he did.
He let out a soft, sinister laugh. “Why do you think I have her?”
“Because you fucking do, you nightmare. I want her back.”
He was quiet. “Does she want you?Archangel.Does she want a man who would throw her aside to marry another? Because it seems to me that would make her not want you. Just ask Lorenzo De Luca.”
“Listen, you fucking psycho, I want her. She needs to come home. People are looking for her?—”
“The same people who vowed to keep her safe? The ones who said they loved her?” He let out a wild laugh that sent chills down my spine. He’d clearly been watching her to know this information.
“I know she’s the sort of girl you and Everett collect. Please. I will do anything to bring her back. Name your price. It’s yours.”
