Twenty-Eight
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Cameron
W e stood outside the cafe, the sky roiling with darkness.
“I told you he would be mad,” I whispered to Xavier.
If Samkiel heard me, he didn’t respond, but the others cut me a glare. Samkiel’s whole body grew stiff as he stared at the door. They had evacuated the street and nearby vicinity before we arrived, but even the air felt charged.
“We go in, I do the talking, and no one else moves until I say so.” This time, he glanced at me. “Understood?”
I nodded, as did Xavier, Logan, Vincent, and Imogen.
“Yup, definitely mad,” I said under my breath.
We followed him, falling into the same formation we had assumed thousands of times. He went in first, something we had all argued against in the past. We had been trained to walk before the gods and protect them, but Samkiel had never been like them, not for one second.
A small bell dinged as we entered, the sound nearly drowned out by the music coming through the speakers.
Dianna swayed her hips to the beat. The waitress from earlier huddled into a corner booth, whimpering softly.
Samkiel placed his hands on his hips, his jacket flaring as he watched.
Dianna spun around, beaming as she placed a piece of fruit into her mouth before hopping onto the counter. She crossed one leg over the other, the hem of her dress riding high as she leaned back, bracing herself on her
hands.
“You got my message? Lovely.”
Samkiel said nothing.
I glanced toward Xavier, and he nodded.
He felt it too. Something was off.
Imogen and Vincent stood focused on Dianna, their blades clenched at their sides.
Logan peered toward the terrified waitress. She cradled her twisted wrist, her face pale with pain. Logan looked at me.
I raised a brow, and he tipped his chin toward the window. A few birds chirped, nestling in the tree by the window.
“Hostages? This is new for you,” Samkiel said, his gaze never leaving her.
Dianna shrugged. “I had to get your attention somehow. I am sure you have been busy since your betrothed’s arrival.”
Imogen blanched, and I saw the line of Samkiel’s jaw twitch.
“We’re not—” Imogen started.
Samkiel raised his hand, and Imogen closed her mouth immediately.
“And you learned that information from where?”
Dianna glanced down, twirling a piece of her hair between her fingers.
“Kaden.”
Pressure weighed on us, and my chest ached as if all the air had fled the room. Silence fell, weighted and nearly painful.
“He came to you?” I heard the cold, deadly rage that laced Samkiel’s voice.
“Yeah, and he told me all about your wife. Kind of sad, given the fact you never mentioned it.”
Samkiel glanced down and nodded before exploding into motion.
Grabbing Dianna by the throat, he lifted and slammed her against the countertop. Dianna reached up, grasping his wrist, twisting beneath his hold as she kicked and struggled.
We stood still as he’d instructed, every single one of us stunned. Dianna had seemed so strong before, and now Samkiel held her with one hand.
“Logan,” Samkiel barked, never taking his eyes from Dianna’s. “Take the waitress from here and somewhere safe.”
Logan moved so fast he blurred, reassuring the young woman as he helped her from the booth and out of the cafe. I watched Logan take one last look behind him before he left.
Samkiel lowered his head until his face was inches from hers. “You
fucked up, Camilla.”
Camilla?
“You’re not her. I knew the second I walked in. You don’t talk like her, act like her, or smell like her. My Dianna, if she took a hostage, would have fed, not merely twisted a wrist, and the last time she met Cameron, she left
him with more than a broken nose.”
My brows shot up. He had a point.
“You also forgot about Dianna’s jealousy. She lit the forest of your island on fire because of a mere kiss. She would be beyond rage, thinking I had a betrothed and had lied to her. Imogen wouldn’t have made it past the front door.”
Imogen’s throat bobbed, remembering the last time the two of them had met.
“Now, where is she?” Samkiel’s voice was lethal.
Dianna’s form shimmered beneath a swirl of green magic, the illusion melting away. She turned into a stunning, curvy brunette with enough power wafting off of her that it made my skin crawl.
“You really do love her,” Camilla whispered.
“Where is she?”
“You’re right about one thing.” Camilla struggled, but Samkiel didn’t let up. “She is enraged. I didn’t lie, Kaden found her, and I don’t know what else he said besides the engagement part, but it set her off in a big way.”
“I am not betrothed to Imogen.”
“She doesn’t believe that.”
Lines of pure silver lit along his exposed wrists and under his eyes.
Camilla screamed. “Do you feel that? That’s your organs cooking from the inside out. I should skin you alive for what you helped him do to Gabriella.
What you helped them do to her. You helped him take her away, the last person Dianna had, the last person she loved. You did that, and I will make you suffer for it.”
Camilla shrieked as power ignited beneath his palm. The windows shook, green energy stretching to protect her, but Samkiel was too powerful, too lost to that blinding need to protect what he deemed his. What little magic flared near Camilla in desperate defiance burned out the second
it reached him.
“Where is she?” Samkiel bellowed.
Camilla screamed. “The city!”
Samkiel let up, no longer pumping raw energy into her.
“The city.” Camilla took a shuddering breath, then another. “She only meant for me to distract all of you while she got the map. That’s it. I swear
it.”
“The map?”
Camilla squirmed beneath him. “Yes, the one from Drake’s mansion, the one with the tunnels. She didn’t tell me why she suddenly wanted it, but that’s what she is after.”
“It’s back at the conference hall, Samkiel,” Vincent said.
Samkiel let Camilla go, and she sat up, rubbing her throat, the marks left by his hand and power slowly healing.
“I need a plan to catch and contain her. Alone.” He looked at each of us, his mind obviously working on a solution.
“I can help.” We all looked at Camilla. “Please. I want to.”
The disgust that crossed Samkiel’s face even put me on edge. “You’ve done more than enough, and I do not trust you.”
“I can make a spell in two seconds. A sleeping one that will keep her out long enough for you to subdue her. You just have to get it into her bloodstream.”
“You wish for me to poison her?” Samkiel all but roared.
“No, I only wish to help fix what I’ve done, okay? I know I can’t be forgiven, not by her, by anyone, but I’m so tired of this.” Camilla’s eyes glazed over. “I just want to help.”
Whatever storm brewed behind Samkiel’s eyes slowly subsided. “If you are lying to me, if what you make hurts her in any way, I know how to torture you for a thousand years, never letting death touch you. Do you understand?”
The blood drained from Camilla’s face, but she nodded.
“You’ll need to distract her?” Imogen said.
“I can help,” I said. “I just need a clear shot.”
Samkiel rubbed a hand over his face. “No.”
“Oh, come on. You made us take all those archery classes until our fingers bled. I can do this. We can do this,” I nearly pleaded, so ready to shoot something.
“Nothing is piercing her skin. I refuse to hurt her or allow my family to hurt her. End of discussion,” Samkiel said, giving me his death glare.
I decided that it probably wasn’t a good idea to push him right now.
“Okay, then. Next plan.”
“What about a gas?” Xavier said.
“Oh, that’s a good one. Camilla, can you make a gas?” I asked, turning to look at the pretty little witch.
Camilla glanced between Samkiel and me, refusing to move off the counter, afraid one touch from him would electrocute her.
Samkiel ran his thumb along his bottom lip and said, “I have a better
idea, actually.”
“Care to explain?” I asked.
“I need you all to evacuate the city.”
Vincent jerked in surprise. “Why?”
“Safety precaution. I am going to piss her off.”
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