Devils & Thieves (Devils & Thieves #1)(47)
“You know I didn’t,” Crowe was saying. “I had no reason to hurt her.”
“You’ve got a history of breaking people who so much as look at you funny,” Ronan said through gritted teeth. He towered over most of his fellow Sixes—he had to be six eight, and most of him was covered in tattoos of hellhounds dragging lost souls into the flames of damnation. His clenched fists were huge, and it looked like he was ready to use them.
Hardy glanced over his shoulder and spotted me, then poked Crowe and whispered something to him. Crowe turned, and his eyes locked with mine. “Jemmie. Tell Ronan what you saw when we were attacked.”
Suddenly aware that I’d become the center of attention, I sucked in a deep breath, then coughed as the heavy scent of magic burned in my nose and mouth. “I—I saw Katrina. In the trees just past the Deathstalker tent. She hurled a curse that hit Crowe. It could have killed him.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “I know who you are. My niece said you were out to get her. That you and that little Medici bitch cursed her in the middle of a mall.”
I crossed my arms over my chest as the Doberman turned its head and snarled at me. Ronan was controlling it—I could see the purple loops of his power around the animal’s body and head. “I stand by what I saw. I’m telling the truth.”
Ronan snorted and spit on the ground. “That’s what I think of your truth, little girl. You have as much reason to lie as Crowe does.”
“Then ask Katrina,” I said. “Maybe we can have Old Lady Jane question her. Doesn’t she know when someone’s lying to her?”
“He can’t,” said Crowe, very quietly.
“Why not?” my father asked, moving to stand next to me.
“’Cause Katrina’s missing,” Ronan barked. “No one’s seen her since early this morning—but Fang here did sniff this out.” He held up a torn scrap of fabric that looked a whole lot like the lacy top I’d seen Katrina in the night before. “Found it at the edge of the grounds. There’s blood on it.”
I stared at a red-brown stain on the dangling scrap. “Oh.” My mind spun with questions, like whether she might have done this on purpose to frame Crowe. But with the Sixes, half of whom were her cousins or brothers or uncles, all glaring murder at us, I didn’t think now was the time to question it. “Have you tried a locator spell?”
“You think we’re idiots?” This came from a Six who looked to be in her twenties and was wreathed in locant magic. “There’s no sign of her anywhere.”
Ronan nodded. “So I’m actually glad you stopped by, Crowe. Now we’ve got a problem.”
“Why? I’m not trying to start anything, Ronan. I just want to find my sister.”
“And I want to find my niece!” roared Ronan.
“Maybe the same person took—”
Ronan shook his head. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Crowe Medici. I’ve been asking around all day. And you know what people told me?”
The skeins of purple animalia tightened, and the Doberman refocused on Crowe. Its hackles rose, and a low, deep growl rolled from its throat. Ronan leaned forward and dropped the scrap of Katrina’s shirt at Crowe’s feet. “You were the last person to be seen with her.”
THIRTEEN
MY STOMACH DROPPED AS AMBER SKEINS OF MAGIC unfurled around Crowe—he was preparing to defend himself in the only way he knew, and it would make things worse.
“There are three people missing right now,” I said loudly, shoving forward to stand next to Crowe, ready to do my best to throw out a barrier around us if it came to that. It might not work, but I had to do something. “Alex Medici, Katrina Niklos, and Darek Delacroix. The Devils, the Sixes, and the Deathstalkers are each looking for someone.”
“Gunnar Reyes went missing two days ago,” Crowe added. “Still hasn’t been found. So we’re missing two.”
Ronan’s eyes narrowed. “Your point being?”
“What if they’re all being taken by the same person?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I believed that—it was still possible Darek and Alex were holed up somewhere together. I knew I had seen Katrina hurl a curse at us less than an hour earlier, and Gunnar was known for disappearing for days on end. Except… the other person I had seen in the woods seemed to have some kind of screwed-up arma power—I had seen the swirls of pale yellow mixed with black and red as he ran between the trees. Could that have been Gunnar? If it was, why would he hurl a hex knife at me? I shook off the thought. Right now, I just wanted to make sure we didn’t start another brawl. “What if we get all the clubs together and try to figure out what the hell is happening?”
Crowe said nothing, but the amber ribbons of his magic slithered back into his fingertips, and I stood up a little straighter.
“It’s a reasonable suggestion, Ronan,” my dad said, trying to keep the peace, like any of this shit mattered to him. “If you want to find Katrina, convening the officers of each club seems like the best plan.”
Ronan was still glaring daggers at Crowe, but his magic was pulling away from the dog at his side, and the animal whined and sat, leaning its head on the enormous man’s thigh. “All right, Agent Carmichael. But if I get even a hint that Crowe’s behind this, I won’t hold back.”