The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(86)

Abram stepped in, his expression unforgiving, but Zach was having none of it. He pushed the other man back and lowered his voice. “He raped them, Martha. Do you know what kind of terror living like that for a week had to have caused? Elouise was choked repeatedly to the point of unconsciousness, and Neveah was buried alive and then dug back up again. If he did that while working his way up to Eden, what do you think he’s going to do to her?”

Still, she didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Zach cursed. “Do you really love your daughter, Martha? Or was that all a lie, too?”

Something cleared in her eyes. She seemed to reclaim herself, pulling her shoulders back and her chin up and resuming her commanding air. “This way.”

“Martha—” Abram stopped short when she pinned him with a look.

“That’s my daughter. They’re doing this because I claimed her as my Persephone, and you know it. What is this worth”—she motioned around her—“if she dies?”

“You’ll regret it in the morning.”

Zach clenched his fists but managed to keep his mouth shut. Time was of the essence, so going a few rounds with Abram wasn’t going to solve anything—even if it would make him feel a little better, at least temporarily.

Then he processed what Martha had said. “They.”

But she was already moving, striding across the square to the house situated in the center. Zach rushed after her. “You know who’s doing this. Damn it, Martha, you could have put a stop to it before the first death.”

“You’re wrong. I knew something was going on, but I had no way of knowing it went any deeper than sex. My people need to let steam off sometimes, and I’m inclined to allow it.”

He was on her heels as she climbed the stairs. “You should have told me.”

“You’re lucky I’m telling you now.”

He knew that. He also knew there was a decent chance she’d deny anything said or done during this little trip. Zach glanced behind him at the glowering Abram and wondered if this was all some elaborate trap to ensure the DNA samples never made it to the lab. Don’t think about it. Get Eden back and worry about the rest later. He tried to take in the bedroom Martha led him into, but she didn’t stop there, marching into what appeared to be a closet until she plugged a code into a little pad on the wall and a doorway appeared with a click.

Inside, it was like walking into the twilight zone. Monitors lined the walls of a room almost as large as the bedroom itself, each seeming to record a part of the Elysian community. On the video, everyone went about their business, likely having no idea they were being recorded. No wonder her people think she’s a prophet. She knows all their secrets. He pointed to the one showing the police cruiser and a now-sitting Vic. “This will be the one.”

Abram was the one who moved past them to the control system, typing a few commands into the system. The screen went black for a few seconds and then cleared to show a blonde girl who looked about sixteen hauling Eden’s unconscious body—please let her be unconscious—into the trunk. Zach winced when her head made contact with the trunk as the woman dumped her into the space. The blonde disappeared, headed off in the direction she’d come. Less than a minute later, Vic rushed up to the vehicle, and there was a flash of movement behind him, the impression of the blonde wielding a baseball bat, and then he was down. The woman tossed the bat into the backseat, climbed into the driver’s seat, and drove away.

He pointed at the screen. Only one. Maybe Martha is wrong? But that doesn’t make sense . . . “Who the fuck is that?”

“Beth. She’s been with us since she was a small child. Her grandmother was one of my first followers, though she left unexpectedly seven years ago.” Martha smoothed back her hair, and it was only because he watched her so closely that he noticed her hands shaking just a bit.

Zach shot a look at Abram. Did “left unexpectedly” mean she left of her own will? Or was she kicked out? Or . . . ? He filed away that piece of information to investigate later. Right now there were more pressing things to deal with. “Where is she taking Eden?”

Martha’s breath hitched. “I . . . I don’t know.”



Eden thought she’d felt pain in her life. She’d been wrong. So goddamn wrong. Her head pulsed with each heartbeat like a giant exposed nerve, feeling huge and too big for her body. She had to open her eyes—it was imperative that she figure out where she was—but she couldn’t quite manage to make the command reach the body part in question. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.

Stop.

Breathe.

Inhale. Keep it steady. Exhale.

There. Just like that.

Keep going.

Each breath brought a little more steadiness to her, though the initial panic hovered at the edge of her mind, just waiting for her to miss a step so it could pull her under. It was so hard to think.

What happened?

That, at least, was easy enough to answer. She’d gone to see Beth, and then she’d realized that Jon might be the one who was doing this. Had he come home unexpectedly? Had he hurt Beth after he knocked Eden out? That got her moving. She opened her eyes, blinking into the shadows. It wasn’t pure darkness, but the light made her wonder how much time had passed while she’d been out. Losing time like that is bad. So fucking bad. She tried to see as much of the room as she could without moving her head. She’d have to evaluate her injuries, but not right this second. Getting the lay of the land, so to speak, was first.