Chapter Thirty
SEBASTIAN CLIMBED IN THROUGH THE SASH WINDOW carefully, although Lilith had to be aware of his presence already. He intentionally hadn’t concealed himself as well as he could have on approach. It was necessary to be sure this worked.
He’d never expected to be back here at Philip’s house. The last time, he had stormed out of the kitchen, angry with himself for allowing Ananchel to get the better of him in front of Candra. It was also the first time he’d held her. Pain crashed through him at the memory and laced with humiliation of a more recent interaction. Had he really cried in front of Draven? He tugged on his hair, furious at himself for having let his guard down so completely. What would have happened if Gabe hadn’t stepped in and made him confess what he knew? He couldn’t think about that now, but decided it was fitting he should be here, intent on losing control again.
Sebastian had never cared much about risk. In life, he bet high to win high, never stopping to consider the consequences should he lose. Instead, he simply never lost…he refused to. He rigged every hand in his favor. Nothing was ever really a game of chance because he had always known the outcome of his behavior before he took action. He considered it more like counting cards than playing blind against a dealer.
This payoff, if he succeeded, would change the whole game. Sebastian had everything to gain and nothing more to lose than himself, a forfeit he’d prepared himself for long ago. Win or lose, at least it was something. At least he could say he had played his hand.
He found himself inside a dimly lit library. Not nearly as impressive as Draven’s or his own, but the high corniced ceilings of the elegant home allowed for tall cherrywood shelves filled with leather-bound volumes to stretch high up each wall. A modern glass sheet desk looked out of place in one corner of the room. A small bendy desk lamp provided the only light. Files and papers were scattered over the floor, the drawer to a gleaming wood file cabinet hung off its hinges, and a black and chrome office chair lay on its side. The rug below it was bunched up, as if the chair had been dragged across the floor. It appeared as if a scuffle had taken place in the room.
Sebastian took another careful step, sliding the palm of his hand over the lower leg pocket of his combat pants. Satisfied he’d concealed the weapon as much as necessary, he crept farther across the room. His boot landed in something sticky and crunched a little when he pulled his foot up from the tacky pool on the polished floor. Sebastian bent at the knee and ran his index finger over the surface. The dark mess was blood, a lot of it, and semi-dried. The smell of oxidized paper, leather, and wax in the room did a good job at partially covering the metallic tang. The amount of blood was probably too much for whoever had lost it to survive.
He moved toward the bookshelves, not sure where he should begin the search and knowing he had to work fast. His eyes and fingers skimmed over the spines, searching for the correct volume. Then he spotted it. The worn bronze-colored leather and the gold writing blended perfectly. No one would pick this volume out if they didn’t know what they were looking for. Fortunately, Sebastian did. He climbed the ladder and pulled the book down.
His muscles tightened, and his jaw popped with the strain. For an instant, he deliberated whether or not he should have listened to Draven, if this idea of his had any chance of working, but only for an instant. He owed this to the others. At least this way, if anything went wrong—
He didn’t get to finish the thought. The double doors burst open while his fingers still hovered over the blade hidden inside the cut out pages of the book. A swarm of humans flowed through the entrance, reminding him of insects crawling out of a hole in the earth. Dozens of them. He gagged on his next breath and planted his feet, ready to stand his ground. He didn’t intend to flee—that wasn’t part of his strategy—and he would avoid killing as many as possible. Both Gabe and Draven seemed to believe they could be saved. Looking at them now, he wasn’t so sure.
They didn’t move like humans anymore. They jerked and twitched, tumbling over each other to get to him. Their eyes were nothing but black hollows surrounded by purple smudges. Their gray skin looked paper-thin and threaded with thick blue lines everywhere he could see. Matted hair and blood was smeared over their ghoulish, expressionless, dirty faces, but it was the smell that kicked him right in the gut.
A dank, musty aroma burned inside his nostrils and seized in his brain, making his intestines spasm and his mouth fill with spit. He swallowed, tasting the stench on his tongue. His wings ripped through his back, almost pitching him forward with the sheer ferocity of their appearance. Every instinct in him roared a battle cry, and his synapses fired with strategic moves. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, closed his eyes, and rolled back his shoulders, preparing for the slaughter to come. A wisp of movement disturbed the rancid air, raising goose bumps on his arms.
“Wait.” The loud instruction came from behind the swarm.
Sebastian opened his eyes to see the creatures part obediently like flesh slashed open.
“Well, what do we have here?” Lilith chuckled. “I knew Ananchel would eventually double-cross me. I must admit, I never thought you would be dumb enough to help her. I’d like my book back, please.”
Sebastian swallowed the hard lump in his throat and snapped the book shut with one hand defiantly. “I don’t think so.”
Lilith barely batted her eyelashes, and the mob descended on Sebastian. He fought, using both his wings and his limbs, struggling until sweat covered his body and the brawl had decimated the room, all the while hearing Lilith laughing. He quickly established that these creatures were not like humans and could see his wings. They didn’t act as the invisible barrier he’d hoped they would. Eventually, he was subdued and forced to the ground with his arms wrenched backward and up, beaten and bloodied.
One of the minions took the book, as he looked on panting, choking on the stench around him and attempting to shrug off the many hands holding him at bay. Lilith smirked and opened the book, slipping her finger the length of the blade. “Did you honestly think it would be that easy, Sebastian?”
He didn’t answer; he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Lilith slinked toward him. Her body had lost its vitality already. Why doesn’t she feed? It came to him in a sickening realization. She was holding off. She was waiting to join with Candra.
The crack across his face when she backhanded him caught him unaware. Despite her appearance, Lilith’s strength was in no way depleted. His lip burned, and blood trickled down his chin. Sebastian refused to look away, keeping his eyes on her.
“It’s time to go.” The instruction was for those around him. Regardless, it suited his plans perfectly.
Lilith hunched down in front of Sebastian and tilted her head curiously to the side. Her dull hair had thinned and hung limply over her shoulders. Her hand lifted, and Sebastian readied himself for another strike. It didn’t come. Lilith traced a line over his cheek with the back of her fingers almost tenderly.
“Have your fun with this one, my children. Pluck his pretty feathers, tear him apart piece by piece…and take your time about it.”
