Devil's Gate (Elder Races #4.6)(15)

Normally Duncan always invited a lady to go first through the door, but normal wasn’t a definition that applied to this place. He stepped in first and looked around quickly, one hand on his gun. Inside, the mobile building was crowded with metal shelves filled with merchandise, anything from canned goods, tampons, toothpaste, aspirin and other pain relievers, and first aid supplies to other, more potent supplies.

Duncan’s sharp glance took in the bottles of OxyContin, Percocet and Demerol in a glass, locked cabinet behind a counter. He had no doubt that the right price, not a prescription, would be the key that would open up that cabinet. It also had a shelf of baggies filled with marijuana, some rolled and some loose, and a couple of shelves filled with dark brown tincture bottles, homeopathic concoctions that glinted with sparks of magic.

There were other people in the building. A few were obviously shoppers who took one look at Duncan and Seremela and then slipped out the open door. Duncan kept track of them until the last had left, but the main part of his attention was focused on the two people behind the counter.

One of them was a tall, dangerous looking Light Fae male, his curly blond hair shaved close to his skull, which made his pointed ears seem even longer. He wore two shoulder gun holsters over a tank top that bared a lot of golden brown skin. He watched Seremela with a flat, unfriendly gaze, resting a hand on one of his guns.

Duncan’s jaw tightened. He did not like the sight of that. He turned his attention to the other person behind the counter, a short, slight human male with sharp eyes and a rather plain, aesthetic face. The male was easily the most intelligent person Duncan had laid eyes on since they arrived.

He said, “You must be Wendell.”

“You’re a quick one,” said Wendell. “Hence the sign outside my door.” He opened the foil wrap on a piece of Nicorette gum and popped it in his mouth, while his gaze took in everything about Duncan in one glance. “I recognize you. I know who you are.” He turned and dissected Seremela appearance. “You got here just in time for the execution, but I’m afraid bringing a lawyer even as famous as he is won’t do you any good.”

Everything inside Duncan went cold and quiet when the other man said execution.

Seremela looked at the pharmacist blankly. “Excuse me?”

Wendell’s thin eyebrows rose. “You’re here about the Tarot reader, aren’t you? The one who offed Thruvial.”

If anything, Seremela looked even more confused and disturbed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Eh, my mistake,” Wendell said, shrugging. “I thought since you were a medusa that was why you were here. Guess I’m as guilty of racial profiling as anybody else.”

Duncan took a step forward, and the Light Fae muscle matched him step for step. He ignored the other male and said to the pharmacist, “Do you know how many medusae are here in Devil’s Gate?”

Wendell scratched the back of his neck. “Aside from your companion, there’s only one that I know of—the Tarot reader. Young girl maybe twenty years old, wears Goth makeup, got a mouth on her.”

“Goth makeup? Oh gods, Duncan,” Seremela said, her creamy skin going chalky. “He’s talking about Vetta.”

Fuck. Fuck.

“Yeah, that’s her name,” said Wendell. His sharp gaze had turned curious and more than a little avid. “I’ll give you this much information for free, since it’s common knowledge anyway. They say she poisoned a man a couple days ago. Someone who was very important here. They’re going to hang her at dawn.”

Chapter Five

The Depths

Panic and disorientation sank claws into Seremela and wouldn’t let her go.

Vetta was to be hanged? For poisoning someone?

She couldn’t drag in a deep enough breath and struggled for air as she stared at the human and his Light Fae bodyguard.

The Light Fae bruiser stared back at her, his cynical expression turning wary. He took a couple steps back and drew his gun.

“Leash your dog,” Duncan said sharply. “He’s about to get stupid.”

What dog? Duncan moved so fast he blurred, crowding her back against a wall. Seremela stared at him blankly. What the hell was he doing?

When he stopped, he stood between her and the Light Fae, and belated understanding slammed into her—he was shielding her with his body.

At the same moment the nerdy human snapped, “Holster it, Dain.”

Lean, strong fingers came under her chin, and Duncan forcibly turned her face toward him. “Don’t look at him,” Duncan said to her in a quiet voice. “Look at me.”

She tried to focus on him. That was when she realized all her snakes were hissing at the Light Fae. Her panic had turned them deadly. She could feel them, roused and wanting to bite, and as she looked over Duncan’s shoulder, she could tell that the Light Fae male knew it.

“At me, Seremela,” Duncan whispered gently.

Her attention shifted back to him. He raised a hand and stroked it along a few of the snakes, and they quit hissing and wrapped around his forearm. Even though his back was turned to an unknown male with his gun drawn, Duncan looked calm, his dark gaze steady.

As soon as he knew he had gotten her attention, he smiled at her. “They’re not going to hang her,” he said telepathically. “We won’t let them.”