Page 68 of Degradation (The Brethren Lords #3)

Devin

D ead or as good as.

Those words repeat in my head as I stare out, as I look through the darkness ahead of me.

Five years is a long time to wait for revenge. To wait for recompense. And god, does it feel good to be finally free, to be finally back in the world. Finally reminding myself that I am still alive.

I slip through the back door, expertly picking the lock. It’s so quiet I can hear the blood pounding in my ears. I can hear my breaths, heavy, weighted.

Behind me, Cooper, Mace, and seven others are jostling to get inside and get this show on the road.

Our dear friend here had enough men stationed around the perimeter to give us a nice little challenge, a nice little fight.

As I step inside, my heart races with a mixture of adrenaline and bloodlust. The house is eerily silent, save for the soft sounds of the night creeping through. There’s a grandfather clock that’s slowly ticking away.

The entrance hall is choked with shadows. Perhaps all the demons of Hell are here tonight. My lips pull into a grin at the thought. Now that would make this entertaining, wouldn’t it?

I move quickly, creeping through the dimly lit corridor. A floorboard creaks loud enough for me to pause. Oh, I know there are more guards up here, more people waiting to protect their precious quarry.

But nothing happens. No one comes.

To say I’m disappointed is an understatement.

I find the stairs, not bothering to mask my footsteps as I ascend. There’s no need for subterfuge now.

The door to the first room I approach is half-open, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway, illuminating the jagged edges of the world that’s about to become one of their nightmares.

A girl I know to be his daughter is curled up in the bed. Poor bitch, she might be technically innocent but that won’t spare her. I know my brother will have both her and her mother sent to Oblivion. They’ll both be turned into slaves. Both be turned into whores for the great Brethren to enjoy.

I wrinkle my nose, not that I care what her fate is.

But for a minute, for one fleeting second, it’s like my mind plays a trick on me. I blink, rubbing them with my fingers as her features morph, as they alter.

Suddenly she no longer looks like Titus’s daughter.

Her hair turns a shade lighter, her nose becomes slenderer, and her mouth, her lips become fuller.

She opens her eyes, blinks back at me, and I can see those devastatingly blue eyes.

Paitlyn.

My heart slams into my chest. Something in my head roars.

I rush forward, wrenching the covers off and the girl screams, waking in an instant.

“You traitorous bitch…” I snarl, grabbing at her, yanking her out by her hair.

It makes no sense that she’s here. Why the fuck would she be? Unless Magnus knew I was coming here, unless I’ve been double-crossed?

I glance at the men, my men, they’re looking back at me in confusion.

“We got her.” I spit. “We got her.”

Before I can get the words out, Titus’s guards come crashing into the room. Curtis and Lyndon are quick to eliminate them, but the sound of gunfire will be enough to wake everyone up. To alert every fucker in this place.

The girl in my arms jerks, screaming out and I wrap my hand around her mouth to silence the damned noise.

“Shut the fuck up, Paitlyn.” I spit.

“Devin, that’s not her.” Cooper says with such an uncertain tone. As if he thinks I’m mad, as if he thinks I’ve forgotten what she looks like. Like I wouldn’t be able to pick her out, with my eyes covered and the room packed full of people.

I glance down, seeing the way the splice of moonlight catches her face.

And I swear to god, she smirks at me.

“Grace…” A woman cries coming out of nowhere.

Mace grabs her, subdues her, as she lashes out with her hands being the only weapon she has. She’s wearing a flimsy little nightgown. It shows off every curve she has, it shows the slight roundness of her stomach too.

“Please.” She sobs. “Please let my daughter go.”

I narrow my eyes. My mind registering that somewhere in this house, Grace is also here.

“Grace.” A gruff voice repeats.

We all tense when we see who it is. The great man himself.

Titus Ratcliffe.

He’s holding an assault rifle, has it pointed right at me, as if he’d have the nerve to pull the trigger.

“Let her go.” He says.

“You don’t give the orders around here.” I spit. Like fuck I’m going to do that anyway, not when it’s taken me this long to find her, this long to hunt the bitch down.

It’s curious that she is here though. Curious that she’d be so easy to capture. I would have thought my brother would have been more imaginative than this. Perhaps he doesn’t want to lose face, perhaps this nurses his ego more.

After all, this ties everything up with a neat little bow. He gets his rival. I get the whore.

“Momma…” The girl in my arm squeals, getting free from my grasp.

“Devin…” Cooper says, taking a cautious step like he’s no longer on my side. Like I’m a grenade about to go off.

I frown, staring at the room, feeling suddenly like the entire tables have flipped. That everyone here is against me.

“Momma…” The girl screams again, louder.

I look down and that face, that serene, beautiful face of my jezebel changes. The blue eyes turn brown. The smirk vanishes. Instead of a fully grown woman, I’m holding a teenager.

It’s Grace. Not Paitlyn.

What the fuck is going on? What the… I shake my head, trying to clear it. I know it was a trick, a momentary lapse, but I can’t tell the others that. I need them to trust me, to look up to me. If they realise what I am, I won’t get that, I won’t have loyalty, I’ll end up with a bullet in my head.

I yank the girl’s hair, pulling her head back until her neck is exposed. With a small blade, I trace along her jugular. “Be a good boy and drop the rifle, Titus.”

The mother moans, sobs, says something incomprehensible, but I’d put money on her telling him to do it, to surrender, to give in to save their precious daughter.

Titus looks between us like he’s weighing up whose life is worth more to him, his or his family.

“You’ll take them to Oblivion.” He spits.

I shrug. Even though we all know that’s the case, it’s not my decision to make.

“I can’t, I won’t…” Titus screws his face up, staring back and forth between his precious wife and his precious daughter. “She’s seventeen.” He says. “She’s a child.”

I tilt my head, taking a deliberate sniff of the girl in question. I have no interest in children, no interest in anything beyond one woman and my revenge, and yet, I’m more than happy to torment this fucker.

“Bastard.” He cries. “Get your filthy fucking hands off her.”

“Won’t be the only ones on her the minute she turns of age.

” I smirk. We all know her future, know what will happen.

This bitch will be auctioned off. Her purity will fetch a fine price considering who her parents are.

And after that, well, let’s just say, she’ll be lucky to make her thirtieth birthday.

Those words clearly send him over the edge, he pulls the trigger, narrowly missing my ear. Too bad the man is a poor shot, a little more to the left and he might have actually made a difference.

Cooper jumps on him, wrangling the weapon from his grasp, then uses the butt of it to knock him to his knees.

“Please,” Titus cries. “Let her go. Just let her go.”

Like fuck I will.

I jerk my head for Mace to move and both of us are dragging our quarry out, down the hall, down the stairs down to where we’ll set up a nice little welcome party for my brother.

Grace kicks and bites the entire way. Little bitch has some fire, I’ll give her that. Even a good smack to the face doesn’t seem to subdue her.

“Keep that spark.” I growl into her ear. “It’ll make it all the more enjoyable when the first man gets to fuck you.”

She whimpers before slamming her head back into my nose and I let out a groan half pain, half pleasure.

I slam her onto the floor, leaving her curled up in a heap, while I get on with finalising this shit-show.

In the kitchen is an old-school farmhouse table and chairs. I grab two of them and carry them over to where I left the girl.

She’s started crawling away, as if she were an insect, as if she could simply slither into the dark.

I place a heavy boot on her back, tutting.

“Please,” She half-whispers, half-pleads.

“Don’t go soft on us now, bitch.” I reply, as my fingers dig into the silk of her nightshirt.

I haul her up, then shove her down onto the chair. Mace tosses me some rope and we tie both her and her mother up.

Behind us, we hear the shouts as Titus is bundled down.

“Let them go. Please, let them go. They haven’t done anything, they haven’t…”

God, will he stop waffling on?

“Please.” He says, staring at me, trying to look me in the eye, only, I’m head and shoulders above him so he has to wrench his head up to do it.

“I won’t fight. I won’t cause any problems. You want me to surrender, to let Magnus win, fine, I’ll do that. Just let my family go. Spare my family…”

I grab the first thing I can see, a napkin, and ram it into his stupid face.

Does he think we’re here for my brother? Does he think that’s what this is? That I’m some errand boy, running around, doing as I’m told?

“Get him out of here.” I order. I need him gone; I need him secure.

Cooper and Mace haul him out, and the silence that follows is pure fucking gold.

I fix my gaze back on the two women. Both of them have been gagged so they can’t speak but their eyes are wide, the terror in them illuminates the room with more beauty than the full moon has ever been capable of.

I kneel down, staring at the fake Paitlyn. The imposter. I can see now, how I was fooled. I can see the similarities go only as far as her pretty pale skin and her golden hair.

I scrawl out a note, folding it quickly, then place it into the girl’s hand.

And then I slip out, leaving them to the darkness, while I find a nice little hiding place.

It only takes an hour.

One beautiful, delightful hour of waiting.

Magnus, Conrad, and all their little buddies turn up, smashing the door in, acting like they’re about to set the world to rights.

Or ruin, more like.

I smirk, seeing all the commotion. Seeing one light after another switch on and the entire house is suddenly illuminated.

Has he found them yet? Has he realised what this is?

If I could have risked it, I would have gotten closer, would have hidden near enough to see the expression on his face when reality kicked him the arse.

But he’s no fool. And I’m not a fucking idiot either. I know doing so would have been too much of a risk.

A snarl rings out.

The door swings open and I see that all too familiar figure come storming out.

He’s raging, fuming. Stupid bastard thought it would be easy. Stupid bastard thought he could simply dangle my freedom in front of me as if that would be enough to buy my loyalty. Like I was as easy to win over as that.

I run my hand over my face, and I swear I can still feel it, the mask, the contraption they locked me up in.

He did that. My brother.

He claimed to love me, to care for me, that the three of us would protect each other above everything else. And yet, when push came to shove, he chose himself, he chose his power, his greed.

And he sacrificed me the way my father sacrificed our mother.

Only, unlike her, I’m not so weak and crazy to take it. I’ve done my time, I’ve spent my years in purgatory, waiting, and now, it’s my time to shine. My time to make my mark on this cursed world.

Magnus tried to hide me away like I was the black sheep. He’s about to find out that some things cannot be hidden. Some things cannot be forgotten.

And some things have to be paid for, and preferably with blood.