Devils & Thieves (Devils & Thieves #1)(62)

“Jane!” I raced to her side and gave her a quick once-over. She had a raised welt on her forehead but seemed otherwise unhurt. “Thank God,” I said. “What happened?”

“He grabbed me outta nowhere,” she said, staring at Hardy and Killian as they wrestled. “And your father—”

We turned at the sound of a shout to find Crowe on the ground again. My dad was just a blue glow between the trees as he scrambled up the path, heading in the direction of the logging mill, leaving only the scent of ash and mint behind. “Darek is influencing him using Killian’s magic,” I said, my throat constricting.

Crowe was on his feet again, stalking toward his best friend and his known enemy, the promise of violence etched on his face. Shimmering amber magic snaked from his fingers, found its target, and wrapped around Killian’s chest. His eyes bulged. “No,” he gasped out.

Hardy punched Killian in the stomach, then rose to his feet as the Deathstalker rolled off him and lay writhing on the ground, in the grip of whatever horrible curse Crowe had just thrown down. Hardy turned to us. My eyes went wide as I saw the streaks of black and red through the orange haze around him. “Crowe, it’s not Killian,” I shouted as Hardy lunged for Jane.

“I have to take her to Darek,” Hardy said. He grabbed the old woman around the waist.

I didn’t think. I reached for Jane’s grasping hands, my magic puffing around us, wispy and still weak. My fingers laced with hers, and silvery threads wrapped around our hands.

Jane’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. Her horrified gaze met mine.

“I’m so sorry, Jemmie. I’m so sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “It’s going to be you.”

Her prediction broke my concentration, and Hardy wrenched her away from me. Crowe tried to grab his friend’s arm, but Hardy lashed out with a side kick that sent Crowe crashing into a tree six feet behind him. I sank to the ground as Hardy took off at superhuman speed with Jane in his arms, leaving a vapor trail of ash and cloves and steel behind him.

Trembling, I crawled over to Crowe, who lay on his side with bits of leaves in his hair and dirt on his face. A haze of blue misted around me as I helped him sit up.

He clutched at his middle. “I think he broke one of my ribs,” he said with a wheeze. Amber and gold spread from his fingertips and across his torso as he healed himself. While he did, I sat with the realization of what Jane had told me.

It was going to be me. I was going to die.

A suffocating mixture of defiance, disbelief, and grief welled up inside me. Was this what Michael had felt like on that final day?

“Jemmie, you okay?” Crowe asked as he got to his feet and slowly approached Killian.

“Fine,” I murmured. If I told him, he wouldn’t let me go with him to the mill. And I had to. I was part of this. It was going to be me. “Killian was trying to stop Hardy from taking Jane.”

Crowe’s magic pulled away from Killian’s wracked body, and the Deathstalker president went limp, his eyelids fluttering. Crowe prodded him with his toe. “Does that mean I have to heal him?”

“If you want help getting all our people back alive,” I said. “Hardy and my dad were under the influence of Killian’s magic, but I smelled Darek’s power as well. Tollat magic. I never knew what it smelled like before.” I laughed bitterly at how stupid I’d been. “I bet that asshole didn’t even smoke—it was his magic that smelled like ash and stale cigarettes. I was sensing his power the whole time and didn’t even realize it.”

“That’s because he’s the only one who has tollat—you had nothing to compare it to,” Crowe said grimly, spitting blood on the ground. He knelt at Killian’s side and pressed his palm to the man’s chest.

Killian took a deep, shuddering breath, his face twisted into a grimace of pain. When Crowe lifted his hand, Killian abruptly rolled to his side and retched into the rotting leaves beneath him.

“Come on,” said Crowe impatiently. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Fuck you,” whispered Killian, struggling to get to his hands and knees.

I bent over and hooked my hands under his armpits, then helped pull him to his feet. “Darek had you under his control earlier.”

“Sort of,” said Killian, wiping his mouth. “I was fighting as hard as I could. I was trying to warn you.…”

“But Darek had sent you to convince me that Crowe was the bad guy.”

Killian nodded, giving Crowe a bitter look. “It wasn’t that much of a stretch.”

Crowe’s lip curled. “That’s rich, considering you’ve been harboring a killer for years.”

“He’s family,” snapped Killian. “My brother made me promise to keep him safe. I had no idea he had tollat magic. He kept it from everyone.”

“You must have known something. You never let on that Henry had a son,” Crowe said.

“Should I have, knowing you assholes would hunt him down? He was a kid!”

“He might have been siphoning your magic and using it against you for years,” I said quietly. “Both Henry and Darek could have manipulated you into protecting him.”

As Killian stared at me, I could almost hear his heart breaking. “But Darek is my nephew,” he whispered.