Gena Showalter - The Darkest Whisper

It didn’t take him long to reach his first quarry. There were three Hunters seated at a round table, an umbrella shading them. Had they not felt the building shake? Their bad. Finally. The party could start.

“—pissed his pants,” one laughed.

“Should have seen his face when I shoved those spikes under his nails. And when I cut off his hands…” More laughter. “I hope he continues the silence. I’ve never had so much fun in my life.”

“Demons. They deserve this and more.”

Sabin’s heart sank even as his demon stirred. I want to play , Doubt said gleefully.

Have fun .

Needing no more encouragement, the demon swooped out of his mind and into theirs.

The other Lords are going to be angry. They’ll come for you, make you pay. Everything you’ve done to their brethren will be done to you—magnified by a thousand, I’m sure .

One of the men shuddered. “We know the other demons will come for their friends when they’ve healed from that last battle. Maybe we should, I don’t know, pack up soon.”

“I’m not a coward. I’m staying here and doing whatever’s necessary to pry information from our prisoners.”

Then you’ll be gutted like a fish, I bet.

Now the second speaker shuddered.

“Uh, guys. Save it. My beeper just vibrated. An alarm has been tripped. Either someone’s escaped or we’re under attack.”

They jumped to their feet. None of them had spotted Sabin yet. Silencer on—check. Chamber loaded—check. At one time, he would have drawn their attention, taunted them about their coming death and taken joy as they paled. Now, he simply shot them one after the other in the back of the head. They slumped in their chairs, what was left of their foreheads hitting the glass tabletop with a thump.

He kept moving, rounding the corner. A group of children were splashing around in a pool. One of the boys had a hand extended, water rising and balancing above it.

“Throw it at me,” a little girl implored. “See if it can get through my shielding spell.”

With a laugh, the boy tossed the water at the girl. Not a single drop touched her.

Sabin had suspected they would be here, but was still shocked to see them. Despite their unusual abilities, they were just children. How could the Hunters use them like this? Place them in such danger?

Sabin replaced one of his semiautomatics with a tranq gun. He didn’t want to do this, but it was the best—and safest—solution for everyone involved. What was Gwen doing? Was she inside? Hurt? Without pause, he began nailing the kids with darts. One by one, they sank into unconsciousness. He quickly dragged them out of the water and laid them in the shade, never once releasing his weapons.

Finally, he was ready to enter the house. To help Gwen.

“You filthy animal! What have you done?”

Sabin whipped around. A Hunter had just taken aim at him, fired. A bullet slammed into his right shoulder. Wincing, he hammered out another round from his Sig. One bullet hit the Hunter’s neck, the other his chest. He slumped over, gasping. When his skull cracked against the ground, the gasping stopped.

Bleeding, unconcerned by the pain, Sabin rushed inside the building, sheathing the tranq in favor of the second semiautomatic. Already Hunters littered the floor, motionless. Gwen. Sabin’s heart swelled with pride. Maybe it was wrong of him, but he really loved her dark side. She was magic on a battlefield.

He followed the trail of adult bodies through the winding hallways. Some of the rooms were bedrooms with multiple bunk beds, some were classrooms. There were tiny desks and artwork on the walls; every single piece showed a demon being tortured. There were even signs. A perfect world is a world without demons. When the demons are gone, there will be no sickness, no death. No evil. Lost someone you love? You know who to blame.

Oh, yes. The children were being trained to hate the Lords from birth. Fabulous. Sabin had done some bad shit in his life, but never had he taught hatred to an innocent.

“Bastard!” he heard Gwen shout, followed by a howl of pain.

Increasing his speed, Sabin followed the sound, saw a man hunched over and grabbing his crotch. He didn’t know what had happened and he didn’t care to stop and ask. He simply aimed his Sig and fired three rounds. No one hurt Gwen.

Gwen whirled around, claws bared. Those tiny wings fluttered madly under her shirt. The death-glaze faded when she realized who stood before her. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“I found your friends. They’re hurt, but alive. I released them, but two are missing. Gideon and Anya.”

First—she’d already found and released them? Holy hell. She was faster and better than even he had known. Second—where the hell were the others? Locked up? “Anya?” he shouted. “Gideon?”

“Sabin? Sabin, is that you?” a woman called from down the hall. Anya. “It’s about damn time. I’m back here. With a guard.”

Sabin looked at Gwen just as three males flew into the room, their expressions wild. “Got ’em?” he asked.

“Go on.” She faced the newest challenge. “Get Anya.”

He took off in a run. He would have left any of his men, and Gwen was a better fighter than all of them put together, so he had no doubt of her success. No doubt . The thought made him smile.

As he moved, he exchanged a gun for a blade. He was almost out of bullets. Thankfully, a knife never needed refilling. Where are you, Anya? He burst through one door—empty. He shouldered his way through another, hinges splintering. Nothing. Three more rooms, and there she was, eyeing a little boy, both her shoulders stained crimson.

That boy turned to him, expression determined. There was something…off about him, as though he wasn’t three-dimensional.

“Sabin!” When Anya darted to one side, the boy quickly followed, swiping out an arm.

“I have to keep her here,” he said, but he didn’t sound happy about it.

Slowly Sabin sheathed his blade and reached behind him, curling his fingers around the handle of the tranq gun.

“Don’t touch him,” Anya rushed out, “and don’t let him touch you. You’ll go down without warning.”

“Anya!”

Sabin recognized the voice as Death’s, so he didn’t turn as footsteps approached. He kept his gaze on the boy, ready to jump at him despite Anya’s warning if he went after the goddess again.

“Lucien! Stay back, baby, but tell me you’re okay?” Anya’s face lit with a mixture of pleasure and worry. “I have to know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. You? Oh, gods.” Lucien came up behind him and sucked in a breath. Sabin could feel waves of fury pulsing off him. “Your shoulders.”

“Just a little scratch.” There was fire in the words, a promise of retribution.

Keeping his hand behind his back, Sabin held the tranq out to Lucien. “Not sure it’ll do any good, but I’m going to leave you to it. Gideon’s still missing.” The warrior took the weapon without a word, and Sabin spun on his heel.

He continued bursting into rooms. Several were padded. One was filled with computers and other technology. One was stuffed with enough canned food to last a lifetime. Down another hall he turned, shouting Gideon’s name. These rooms had thicker locks and fingerprint IDs. Heart pounding, Sabin pressed his ear to each door until he finally, blessedly heard a whimper.

Gideon.

Urgency flooding him, he pried at the slit in the center. His muscles strained, his bones nearly popped out of joint, his wound reopened, but he worked the edge until the metal opened enough to squeeze through. First thing he noticed was the broken and bleeding form strapped to a gurney. A sickening sense of déjà vu hit him.