Heart clenching, he followed the sounds of Ronin’s yells to the room right next to his father’s. Mammon called it his “meeting” room, but Dagan and his brothers knew better. It was his torture chamber. His hands shook so violently that he clenched them into tight fists before pushing the door open. Mammon stood in the center of the room with his back to the door. He loomed over a shirtless, bloodied Ronin, who was attempting to rise to all fours. Something metal glinted in Mammon’s right hand.
Oh fuck, he was using a dagger on Ronin. Dagan’s heart quadrupled in speed as he realized Mammon might very well kill his brother this time.
Dagan swallowed past the thickness coating his throat. He knew what happened when someone interrupted one of Mammon’s sessions, but he couldn’t just sit back. Not this time.
When his breathing grew shallow, he forced himself to take a deep breath before saying, “What did he do?”
Ronin’s head whirled in his direction. Teeth gritted, he yelled, “Get out of here.”
Mammon turned to face him, fury tightening every muscle in his upper body. “Yes, you should listen to him, before I use this on you.”
The sight of the large, bloodied dagger made Dagan want to pass out, but he forced himself to stand strong. Maybe Mammon would go a little easier on him than he was on Ronin. Steeling himself, Dagan said the one thing guaranteed to concentrate Mammon’s anger on him. “Go fuck yourself.”
“We have to move soon. We can’t afford to wait much longer.”
The sound of Keegan’s voice as he stalked into the room broke Dagan out of his tortured memory. All of his residual anger over Ronin’s earlier treatment of him faded, leaving nothing but sadness and fear. He loved his brothers, no matter what. Regardless of any squabbles, they would always have each others’ backs. If there had ever been any doubt of that, it had been laid to rest the night of that incident, when Keegan and Taeg had returned home to see the remnants of the damage Mammon had done to Dagan and Ronin. Keegan had laid a plan in motion for them to flee that very night, and the years that followed had been heaven in comparison.
“What if we get deported and he finds Brynn and Aegin?” Dagan whispered, unable to stop the words from forming. “Or Amara, or Lina? You know he’ll want revenge, more than anything.”
Keegan, who’d headed to the bar to begin packing their liquor—they sure as hell would need that where they were going—turned and headed to Dagan. He pulled him in for a quick, one-armed hug. “He won’t. We’re not getting deported. They’ll have no clue where to find us.”
Ronin drew his phone out and pressed a few buttons, holding it up to his ear. No doubt calling Lina for the millionth time. After a moment, he hung up. “She still won’t answer.”
“She was pretty pissed when she stormed off,” Dagan said.
Ronin shot him a dirty look, then waited a few beats before asking, “Have you tried calling her?”
Dagan nodded. “Five times. She hasn’t answered me either.”
Keegan strode toward the bar. “I’ll have Reiver stop by her place. In the meantime, you two should start packing your essentials. We have to be out of here by tomorrow morning at the latest.”
“Got it.” Dagan headed for the front door. To his surprise, Ronin came with him. They stepped into the elevator and stood in strained silence while avoiding each other’s eyes.
Damn, he hated fighting with his brother. In light of everything going on, this argument seemed so stupid. But Ronin wanted something Dagan couldn’t give him. He wanted Dagan to back off, and he wasn’t prepared to do that…not after what he and Lina had shared.
Not with the way she had made his heart sing.
They’d almost made it all the way down before Ronin said, without meeting his gaze, “If she calls, will you let me know?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks.”
The door opened, and Ronin slid out without another word.
…
Belpheg was in his reception chamber going over the logistics of the magic circle with Mammon when Thorne strolled in with his hands in his pockets and a silly grin on his face. Belpheg cut off in mid-sentence and sat back in his chair. “I take it you accomplished your mission.”
“Yup. I got her.” Thorne leaned against the wall with and bent one knee. “Dragged her through the hidden portal. She’s locked in that chamber on the third floor west wing.”
“Good.” One of the things he liked most about the castle that now served as his home was that, despite its somewhat remote location, it was only half an hour from the nearest interdimensional portal. The portal was nestled into the outskirts of a small, antiquated town that housed no more than a few hundred mortals.