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“I did, yes,” Donovan said, his tone polite.

Too polite.

He set down the glass and got to his feet. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now,” he began as he rounded the table, “what went on outside of Yveswich. With one of your…Selkies.” His boots pounded as he strode across the room.

Along the perimeter of that room, the shadows began to stir. They crawled up the walls like smoke, a few tendrils snaking around the fingers of Donovan’s hands that hung loosely at his sides.

More darkness spread behind him, a great mass unfurling like the wings of a fallen angel, as Donovan came to stand directly in front of her, his shadows hissing as they followed.

“You disappoint me, Athene,” he said, his voice lethally quiet. He raised a finger between them, the simple, unthreatening action causing her to flinch. A quiet noise of alarm rose in her throat, and she barely managed to swallow it down. “One job,” he whispered. His shadows echoed him.‘One job,’they said. “All I asked…was for you to bring me Paxton, Roman…and your daughter. And you couldn’t even give meone,”he snarled through bared teeth. His breath that reeked of tequila and tobacco wafted across her cheek.

Athene’s lips trembled, and she clamped them shut. She stared straight ahead as Donovan came closer. So close, she could see her reflection in the shining black orbs of his eyes. So close, she could feel his every breath puffing against her cheek.

Those eyes were cold. Hideously empty.

“Every mistake, from now on,” Donovan hissed, his shadows once again echoing him, “will have consequences.”

Where he stood at her side, Balthazar gurgled, his hands flying to his throat.

Slit. His throat had been slit. By what knife, what hand, Athene did not dare look to find out.

His knees crashed to the floor.

Athene did not dare move. Didn’t dare breathe too loudly. Her vision blurred with tears as Balthazar keeled over, his blood puddling across the floor as he fell still.

Donovan came in close, so close they were practically touching, and whispered, “You will not disappoint me again. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, Donovan.”

He pulled back. Studied her face, one corner of his mouth curving upward with a cruel, mocking smile. “See yourself out.”

It cost her all her strength just to turn. To walk out of that house, Donovan’s shadows whispering as they nipped at her heels.

She did not have the courage to look back.

118

Heaven’s Gate

ANGELTHENE, STATE OF WITHEREDGE

In their roomat Heaven’s Gate, Loren sat beside Darien on the bed and ran her fingers through his silken hair.

He was fast asleep on his stomach. His head was turned toward her, his face smooth and expressionless.

Nearly two days had passed, and he was still trapped in a deep sleep, his body flipping between sweating and shivering—or both. Nearly two days, and during that whole time Loren had hardly left this room. Ivy and the others brought her breakfast, lunch, dinner, tea—delivered straight to the door Loren kept partially open.

The house, although filled with family and friends, was quiet.

So,soquiet.

Roman and the others were not back yet, but according to Kylar, who was staying in touch with them while they traveled back, they should arrive sometime today.

After the crash outside of Yveswich that had claimed many lives, Shay and Dean had been airlifted to Angelthene General Hospital. But while Dean had been placed on life support, Shay had since been transferred to home care. The demand had come from Roman; it wasn’t safe for Shay to be by herself at a public health facility. Not while Donovan and Athene werestill actively looking for her. And so she was here now, at Heaven’s Gate—unconscious, but recovering. Just like Darien. Dean’s Death Dealers were in town and keeping watch over him at the hospital. Whether he stayed here or was transferred to the hospital in Tyrmouth remained to be seen.

One more time, Loren ran a gentle hand through Darien’s hair, pushing the coal-black strands away from his beautiful face. She rested that hand against the back of his neck, his skin hot with a fever, and whispered, “I love you.”

He didn’t respond. Didn’t so much as stir.