Sweet Peril (The Sweet Trilogy #2)(87)

My heart spiked again, a shooting pain.

“I thought that was a farce,” Astaroth said.

Pharzuph shrugged. “Rahab doesn’t think so. He started an investigation of Belial after that summit, but so far he’s clean.”

“If he thinks this girl is the one, he should be investigating her,” Melchom said.

“She’s a bit daft.” I bristled at Pharzuph’s words. “Hard to believe she’d be a threat, but that badge of hers is not right. I say we have her killed . . . just in case.”

Oh, crap.

I needed to talk to Dad right away. Kaidan’s grip around me tightened so hard I could barely take a breath. I had to pinch his forearm with my weak hand to make him ease up.

Flynn shifted his stance, carefully keeping his eyes out at sea as if to appear uninterested.

“Too many strange coincidences recently,” Pharzuph said. “Perhaps Rahab was right when he said the Neph race should be extinct for good.”

Mammon took a curious glance toward his son, who wasn’t looking, and then back to the other Dukes.

“I’m sick to death of mine,” Astaroth said of the twins. “They argue over the simplest commands. Neph don’t provide the help they once did.”

“And they’re putting their noses where they don’t belong,” Mammon said. He cracked his knuckles and his eyes shone red. “Isn’t that right, son?”

No . . . God, no.

All the Dukes turned their attention to Flynn. He blinked at them. “Pardon me, sir?”

“Did ya hear about the strange guy lurking around the prison where Sonellion’s daughter was being held?”

Bile rose from my stomach.

Flynn shook his head at his father and cleared his throat. His forehead crinkled. “No, sir.”

“They say when the guy got in a fight and his head covering fell back, he was a redhead.” Mammon stepped closer to his son.

Again Flynn shook his head. “What are you saying, father?”

Sensing the tension, the dark spirits roamed in a circle around Flynn and the Dukes.

“I’m saying it’s quite the coincidence, don’t you think? Coincidental that you were in Europe when I called you and not our homeland?”

“I felt like traveling is all,” Flynn said. “I’ve never even met this daughter of Sonellion.”

Eerie childish laughter sounded from the boat. I moved closer to the hole to see. Flynn and the Dukes looked up at a young girl perched on the edge of the boat with her feet dangling, no more than twelve years old. Her black hair was slicked into a bun and a small black badge rested at her midsection. A Neph girl!

Where had she come from? Was she hiding on the boat this whole time?

“He’s lying,” she said in a little singsong voice. “Except that last bit. He’s never met her.”

All the Dukes except Mammon smiled wickedly, eyes shining like blood. Mammon stared at his son with furious disbelief. The dark spirits moved closer to listen.

“Son of Mammon,” Pharzuph said to Flynn, “have you met Caterina, the young daughter of Jezebet? She’s quite helpful to have around when one is seeking the truth.”

Jezebet . . . Duke of Lies.

This could not be happening. Flynn looked as if he were thinking the same thing.

“What you didn’t know, son,” Mammon whispered, “is that Duke Sonellion borrowed one of Duke Thamuz’s sons to keep watch over the transaction of the girl while he was away.” Kope and Kai cast surprised glances at each other and my stomach plummeted. “He swore he followed a Nephilim with your description fighting and fleeing the area, but I didn’t believe it was you. I defended you. And you’ve never met her?” His voice raised to a shout now. “What were you doing out there? You distracted Thamuz’s son and he didn’t even get to see the transaction take place! Who sent you to Syria?”

Flynn stood his ground and didn’t speak a word. Cool tears burned behind my eyes.

Mammon grabbed Flynn by the throat. His eyes were bright red as he screamed, “Tell me!”

In one swift move Flynn laid him out with a strike to the temple. Mammon fell to his knees, dazed. The whisperers shrieked.

“Wrong move, Neph,” Pharzuph said. He pulled a gun with a silencer from the back of his pants and pointed it.

No!

Kaidan held me close, so close. He touched fingers to my lips in a gesture begging me not to speak. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks—my own salt water lost amid the ocean. I could not save Flynn. I was in no shape to fight, and I would get each of the Neph killed. My power of persuasion would never work on a Duke. All I could do was beg for a miracle.

“Wait.” Astaroth held out a hand to Pharzuph and nudged Mammon with his foot. Flynn’s father grabbed his temple and got to his feet. “Let Mammon do the honors.”

Pharzuph handed over the gun with reluctance. Mammon pointed it at his son with one hand while the other hand held the side of his head.

“Who are you working with?” Mammon demanded.

When Flynn grinned it was a frightening, powerful sight. Mammon moved to step closer and thought better of it. He kept himself out of arm’s reach.

“I gave you everything! I made you who you are! And this is how you repay me? Tell me who you’re working with!”