Devils & Thieves (Devils & Thieves #1)(68)

With a stifled curse, Darek pressed his hand to his bleeding shoulder and got to his feet. “How’s the view from there, Crowe?” he asked with a pained chuckle. “Did your mighty powers have a few unintended consequences?”

My heart twisted as I witnessed something I never thought I’d see. Tears, streaking down Crowe’s handsome face. “Alex?” he asked in a broken voice. “Flynn!” His arm rose from his side, reaching for them. “This can’t be real,” he screamed. “Jemmie? Answer me! I know this isn’t real!”

But his expression said it all. It felt real. Way, way too real. Real enough to paralyze.

Darek looked over at me. “I’m showing him his worst nightmare,” he said quietly.

Tears stung my eyes as I watched Crowe fall to his knees, just a few feet from the place where the floor gave way to nothingness. He clutched at his head, tearing at his hair. “I didn’t mean to,” he howled. “I would never hurt them!”

“You hurt everybody,” Darek shouted. “Just like your father did.”

It killed me, watching Crowe break like this. And that pain, that love, it was enough to penetrate the fog of animus in my head. As Crowe stared in horror at a scene I was sure involved the sight of everyone he loved dead in front of him, my fingers began to twitch, aching to reach for the crimson threads of Killian’s magic. He stood impassively at my side, sweating and breathing hard, as if he was fighting as well.

“Crowe, I’m a compassionate guy,” said Darek. He walked over to Crowe, who was now on his hands and knees, his head hanging, and grabbed Crowe’s hair, pulling his chin up. As he did, I could see the golden skeins of Crowe’s magic sliding up Darek’s arms, being absorbed by his dark power. “I really want to help you get through this.”

“It’s not real, Crowe,” I whispered, then huffed with frustration. I’d meant to scream it, but Killian still had a hold on me.

“Make it stop,” Crowe sobbed, not resisting as his enemy siphoned away his magic, too caught in the illusion of his own personal hell. “I would never hurt them. I didn’t mean to do it!”

“Make it stop?” Darek asked, turning to me. He pressed his hand to his bleeding shoulder and whispered an incantation, and the wound glowed golden as it healed. “Should I make it stop, Jemmie?”

“Crowe, it’s not real,” I said, louder this time.

Darek’s smile fell away. “Try harder, Killian. Don’t disappoint me.”

Instantly, the ribbons of crimson animus tightened around me, stabbing into my ears, stealing my voice once more.

Darek’s grin returned as he watched my mouth snap shut. “Much better. Now,” he said, turning back to Crowe, “you wanted me to put an end to all your suffering.”

“Please,” Crowe whispered, his eyes locked on the imaginary horror. “I never meant to do this. I don’t ever want to lose control again.”

Darek approached Hardy. Ash and cinders hit my senses as he touched the side of Hardy’s face and siphoned his magic. “Oh, wow.” Darek stumbled back, his aura tinted orange with invictus. “It’s awesome to be you.”

He ambled back over to Crowe as I waged a battle in my own mind. I could see Darek’s strength growing with every step, along with his intent to kill. Crowe knelt, helpless and in the grip of overwhelming grief. How Darek had known to hit him with this—not just the deaths of the people he loved, but by his own hand—I didn’t know. It reeked of an evil and cruelty I hadn’t known existed before that moment.

“I’m going to make this stop for you just like you asked,” Darek said, leaning over Crowe. “You ready to join your old man in hell, big guy?” His fist shot forward and slammed into the side of Crowe’s face. Crowe’s head snapped to the side and he fell hard, blood pouring from his mouth, his body landing right on the edge of the hole in the floor.

Love and determination surged inside me. It was as if I could feel Crowe’s newly shed blood calling out for me. I didn’t know if it was how I felt about him or the blood magic we’d created together, but it was as if his heart beat in my chest. I was not about to watch him die. My hand rose from my side, and my fingers, sparking blue with locant, encircled one of the undulating ribbons of Killian’s magic. It felt silky and loose as I yanked it away from my body.

As Darek stood over Crowe, preparing to kick him into the pit, I whispered protective incantations as I whirled around and let my locant tear Killian’s crimson magic to shreds, ripping it away from Killian himself, who shuddered and staggered.

“Help me,” I said. “Don’t let this happen.” I’d freed the two of us, but it was clear that all of Darek’s intended victims were still held in helpless oblivion.

“Dammit, Jemmie,” yelled Darek. As I spun around to face him, I saw that he’d left Crowe lying right at the edge of the hole and was running back to the trough. He bent over and pulled something from inside the basin—a hunting knife. With a cold glint in his eye, he quickly moved to my mom’s side, and with sharp, brutal slashes, slit her outstretched arms from the crook of her elbow to her wrist. Her blood flowed into the bowl, streaking it red.

“No!” I screamed. Killian and I both ran forward as Darek deftly cut Alex’s wrists, too, and then pivoted around and cut my dad’s.