Page 54 of Ruthless Devotion (Gilded Monsters #3)
My brain is racing to catch up, trying to adjust, trying not to be dumb as balls about this, but I’ve had a shitty day, and I’m hella tired. I’m furious with this Lloyd guy, but I can’t seem to solidify my whirling thoughts into any kind of purpose or plan.
Cathy’s fingers tighten around mine, and she whispers, “He’s the one who killed me.”
Hot, choking anger fills my chest.
Lloyd slit Cathy’s throat. That plain fact is the motivation I need to meet Hindley’s gaze, to speak out. “You knew who he was all along? You knew when we resurrected him?”
“Sure did.” Hindley leers. “We go way back. Bunch of the cousins and uncles and such know him, too. Like he said, we had to keep it quiet around Meemaw. She wouldn’t have wanted us working with him.
Too dangerous, she’d say. But he said our abilities would be stronger once the god was raised.
Strong as they used to be in the old days.
And he promised not to use his powers on us. ”
“You believed him?” I scoff.
“I ain’t done none of this under anybody’s sway,” Hindley says. “It’s all me. My choice.”
“Of course it is,” Lloyd echoes.
“Damn straight.” Hindley spits again. “Anyway, when we rezzed him, I knew he was gonna be in and out of consciousness for a while. But it was hella funny pestering you about wakin’ him up, watchin’ you nosing around, trying to take care of him.
He had to sleep a lot, sure, but he was up and about more than you ever knew.
Sometimes it was a damn hassle keeping you occupied until he could get back to bed for his rest. But hey, it worked.
The god was raised and by the same fuckers who wanted to keep him down.
That’s what you call irony, ain’t it? Barrier’s down now, so I just walked right into Wicklow.
The Coosaw Lockwoods’ll be along soon, too.
We’re gonna have us a Samhain bonfire, burn this old place to the ground. ”
Edgar Linton makes a panicked sound. He’s still lying in the pew where Baz put him after his “blood donation.”
Lloyd speaks up before Hindley can continue. “The fate of this church doesn’t concern me. All that concerns me is him . Send the god over to me, Daisy. Quietly now, there’s a good girl.”
From my angle, I can’t see much of Daisy’s face. But I hear the savage hiss she makes, and I see her body tense, claws twitching as if she’s about to pounce.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Lloyd advises. He speaks sidelong to Hindley. “Point that shotgun at the tattooed girl. She’s fully human. Would die in a second. Dorian, you make a move to shield her and Hindley will shoot. At least some of that buckshot will find its mark in her pretty little body.”
Dorian freezes in the act of moving toward Baz. Cody shifts restlessly, like he’s thinking about intervening, but Nick holds him back.
I feel fucking useless. I’m too far away. Can’t stop Hindley or Ian.
“Give him what he wants, Daisy,” Gatsby says. “You’ve done all you can, sweetheart.”
Daisy’s head whips toward him, and another growl ripples from her throat.
“Gatsby,” Nick says quietly. “Her bracelet. Orange. She gave you too much blood.”
I don’t know what bracelet he’s talking about, but Nick’s words seem to alarm Gatsby.
“Daisy can’t listen to you right now, Lloyd,” he says. “I need to go to her, to persuade her to hand over the god. You claim you don’t want violence—let me reason with her and prevent more bloodshed. I won’t make a false move, I swear.”
Lloyd surveys Daisy, then nods.
Quickly, Gatsby crosses over to Daisy, drawing her into his arms. She jerks against his hold, hissing again.
“Drink from me,” he says quickly. “Drink from me, sweetheart. Just for a minute, and then we’ll get you some human blood.”
“Jay,” Cody protests. “You don’t have any to spare.”
“When she gets like this, she has to be fed,” Gatsby snaps. “Or…you know what happens.”
“Interesting.” Lloyd taps his chin, watching Daisy with renewed interest. “Not like other girls, is she? A bit more feral than your usual vampire once her blood supply gets low enough? Better hold her tight, Gatsby—she looks positively rabid.”
“I can hold her.” Gatsby’s voice tightens with strain as Daisy begins to struggle in his arms. “You’ll have to come get Cernunnos. I don’t think he’s able to walk there on his own.”
“Because she fucking ruined him.” Lloyd’s voice rises sharply.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second.
“I swear, Daisy, I’ll have your little blond head one of these days.
If you weren’t immune to me, I’d eat your soul, slowly, over several years.
That’s another part of the Gancanagh lore, one people don’t like to talk about—the way we swallow souls gradually.
I’m a bit of a gourmet in that department.
That’s how I met you, Dorian. You were so beautiful.
I desperately wanted to taste your soul…
but as it happened, your soul was safe from me, trapped in that fascinating portrait.
I assume, since you’re here, that you have a new portrait now.
Anyway…as for the soul-eating process, it usually takes several months.
I like to savor each bite, and my victims never realize what’s happening until it’s done.
But for you, Daisy, I’d slow the process down even further.
Keep you in a cage, make it really torturous.
” He sighs. “That will have to wait, I suppose. Nicky, be a dear and bring me my broken god.”
Nick glances at Gatsby, who nods.
Sighing again, Lloyd adds, “Just once I’d like for this process to go smoothly. Is that too much to ask for? Well, as they say, third time’s the charm.”
Nick propels Cernunnos toward Lloyd, past the muzzle of Hindley’s shotgun. In that second, Dorian leaps in front of Baz, shielding her with his body.
Lloyd clucks rebukingly. “Dorian, my love, I warned you not to do that. Now I’ll have to choose someone to shoot as punishment.” He scans the church, and his eyes land on me. “Let’s take out Dumb-As-Balls over there. Shoot him now.”
Hindley aims the shotgun at me. I pin Cathy to my back, holding her there with my strength in case she tries to save me.
Across the church, Hindley’s eyes lock with mine. He’s a good shot. No chance of him missing.
“Let Daisy at him,” hisses Cody. “We can take them out, all of us.”
But Gatsby says nothing, and without his word, nobody moves.
Hindley licks his lips. Renews his grip on the shotgun.
“Do it,” says Lloyd.
“He’s my fuckin’ brother.”
Now you say it? I want to yell. A fter all this, now you fucking say it?
“He’s not even your blood,” sneers Lloyd.
Hindley clears his throat. “Ain’t always about blood.”
“Yes, it is. It is always about blood.”
But Hindley’s shaking his head. “You take Kare-noon-us there and git going. He’s what you want. I’ll hold ’em here until you’re gone.”
Lloyd gives him the coldest stare I’ve ever seen, and suddenly I remember what his soul felt like as it slid back into his body. A slimy, clawed thing, hateful and vicious and determined to hang on to life with its teeth.
Without another word, Lloyd turns and walks out of the church, leading the docile Cernunnos with him.
“Are we just going to let him go?” Cody asks.
“For now,” says Gatsby.
“For good.” Nick retreats to Cody’s side again. “We got our vacation coming up, remember? Just you and me. We deserve it. Ever since we met it’s been nothing but danger and drama.”
Cody looks over at Nick, speaking in his soft British accent.
“I know. But I also know what happens when you run from someone like Lloyd-Henry Woodson. Maybe he doesn’t hurt you anymore, not directly, but he’ll hurt others, won’t he?
In this case, maybe thousands of others. We have to go after him.”
“None of you’s goin’ anywhere,” says Hindley. “You’re all staying here until the Coosaw Lockwoods arrive. Then we’ll see.” He swings the gun around, raking his sight line across everyone in the church—and as the gun swerves away from me, Cody pounces.
He’s on Hindley in a second, ignoring the spatter of shot through his body as the gun booms. Then Hindley’s down, the gun knocked out of his hand, and Cody is crouching over him with gleaming eyes.
The vampire looks up at Daisy, who is still struggling in Gatsby’s arms, and he says, “Come on, Coffee Beans. Drink your fill. Sorry if he tastes like asshole.”
Gatsby releases Daisy, and she’s off like a shot, crashing to her knees beside Hindley and sinking her fangs deep into his neck while Cody keeps his arms pinned.
“Looks like she doesn’t mind the flavor of asshole,” Baz comments.
“Neither do I,” Dorian says with a suggestive grin, and Nick howls with laughter. It’s the reckless, hysterical kind of laughter that comes after a crisis. And I can’t help chuckling myself.