Page 29 of The Death Dealer (Sentinels of Magic Book 2)

Twenty-seven hours passed, with Trevor counting every fucking minute of it. Isolated as he was, he had no idea what happened to Soleil, but he assumed it wasn”t good since no one came to tell him differently.Duringthe time hewas imprisoned,hehad nothing but time to think.He sure as hell couldn’t sleep. Whenever he dozed off, the nightmare of Soleil’s horror-filled face, with blood-vessel-ruptured eyes, filled his mind. Countless times, he’d screamed himself awake.

“Dalli?”

The empty echo of nothingness was his reply. He wasn’t sure if distance was a factor in their link.If maybeshe was still alive, but on her island, too far away for him to reach. But he kept trying.

“If a part of you remains anywhereout there, please know I’m sorry. To the very depths of my soul, I’m sorry.”

Nothing.

“As much as I hate the idea of you with anyone else, my wish for you—if you’re still alive—is to have the best life. For you to meet someone who will cherish you and appreciate your love of romance novels.”

Silence.

“Someone who will help you pot your precious plants and restore the earth to its original splendor.”

He felt like he was cracking up, but he needed to say the words if there was even a single chance she might hear them.

“You are beautiful, Dalli. Not just physically—which you are—but deep down where it matters. Truly lovely.”

Trevor rolled on his side and stared at the white cinderblock wall. The Authority’s reprogramming crew would be coming for him soon. When they tied him to their table, and their specialists took turns frying his brain, they’d withdraw his memories for good. A handful of Death Dealers, like his father, had been able to regenerate what was damaged in the frontal lobes, eventually recalling their past. But with Trevor’s magic gone, it was unlikely he could.

He frowned into the void.

Why alter his mind if he was powerless? What could they possibly gain?

It begged the question: would they even bother?

Surelythey’d have come for him by now.

Were they setting up for his demise? Why not just send another Death Dealer to get the job done?

“I’m driving myself fucking crazy,” he muttered as he gripped his hair and tugged. “What the fuck does any of this shit matter?”

An outer doorclanged, and the Aether entered, followed by Alexander Castor and Alastair Thorne. The latter of which seemed green around his elegantly clad gills. He’d heard somewhere Alastair hated enclosed spaces due to capture and confinement by his greatest enemies during the Witches’ War years before. His entering what equated to the Authority’s dungeon spoke volumes of his commitment to Damian Dethridge and their bond of friendship.

The courteous thing would be standing and greeting them, but he couldn’t. Their grim expressions indicatedbadnews, and the only reason for their presence would be to inform Trev of Soleil’s passing. He shook his head and covered his face with his arms.

“Please don’t tell me you couldn’t save her,” he rasped. “Please, no.”

“We’re here to escort you to the continuation of your trial, Blane,” Damian said. There was no inflection in his voice.Nothingto indicate what he thought of Trevor’s fate or if he even cared if there should be one.

“Why do I need to be there? What the fuck difference does it make?”

“Why are all the Blane men so quick to give up? Are they genetically defective or something?” Castor asked in a loud aside. “You’d think they’d have a little more gumption.”

A murderous rage consumed Trevor, and he surged off the rock-like mattress toward the opening of his cell. The glass partition was the only thing saving the Traveler’s life. “You never quit, do you, Castor?”

“I never do. Not like some.”

“I wasn’t referring to life. I was referring to your smartass mouth.”

That mouth quirked mockingly. “Some say it’s my greatest asset, next to my stunning good looks.”

“I say it’s going to get you killed one day, asshole.”

Alastair snorted and shot a dry look toward Castor before returning his focus to Trevor. “You wouldn’t be wrong, son. I’ve thought the same manya’time.”

“Stuff it, Al,” Alexander replied without heat. To Trevor, he said, “Well, pull up your big-girl diapers, Baby Blane, and join the winner’s circle.”

“I’ve got your big-girl diapers right here, ass?—”

“Enough!”

Damian’s voice was akin to God’s, echoing around the prison yet causing stillness with the command. Even his two best buddies took heed and straightened.

“You look like roadkill, Mr. Blane,” he said. “Al will assist you in making yourself presentable. You have exactly five minutes.” Like a king making a decree and expecting it tobe obeyedto the last letter, the Aether nodded and pivoted to leave.

“Wait! Why do I have to enter that bloody cell?” Alastair demanded.

Trev would swear the man”s voice held an edge of panic.

“Because Trevor and Castor are little better than animals and would kill each other for sport. You’re the only one I trust, Al.”

Alastair cast an uneasy glance at the cell.

“Dethridge.” There was deep meaning in the two syllables he uttered.

“It’s okay, Mr. Thorne,” Trev said, unable to see another person suffer on his behalf. “Conjure a suit and hand it through the hatch to your right. I can get myself ready.”

Coolsapphire eyes assessed him, summing him up in a single sweep from head to toe. In a flash of white light, a cream-colored two-piece suit with a white button-down shirt appeared in Alastair’s outstretched arms. He bent it double to hand it through the opening.

“What size shoes, son?”

“Twelve and a half.”

Next, Alastair conjured tan leather shoes, dark brown socks, and a pocket square the exact color of Soleil’s eyes when they were glowing with happiness.

For an entire moment, with the arrival of the men, Trev forgot she was gone. The memories all flooded back with a single hammer-like blow to his heart.

“These should complete the look nicely.” Alastair set them on the dropdown tray in the center of the hatch, oblivious to Trevor’s immediate pain.

He wanted to demand the other man change the color, but the words remained locked behind a tight lump in his throat. If Trev choked on them, it was nothing more than Karma.

Alastair’s eyes were twinkling when Trevor’s gaze met his. “Problem?”

Still unable to speak, Trev frowned and shook his head.

“Good. I’ll turn around and give you privacy to change.”

* * *

Hall Bwas packedwhen Trevor and his entourage entered. After a quick sweeping glance at the Authority members’ table, he let his gaze travel over the assembled Lookie-loos. Once again, Damian’s Sentinels lined the back wall, and they all nodded or smiled at him with varying degrees of encouragement.

Why?

He didn’t receive an answer, not that he expected one. Access to their unified linkwas brokenwhenhis ring had been removedand turned over to Damian after the farce of a first trial.

Brooke Ellis stood at attention by the fence, and her eagle eyes missed nothing as more observers filed into the room. Finally, the main doors swung shut, and she relaxed her guard. And as the final person found their seat,Trevor’s last hope ofSoleil’ssurvival was destroyed. Regardless of her feelings about him or his attack, she’d be present if she was alive. Her sense of right and wrong would demand it.

With dead eyes, he faced forward, uncaring of today’s outcome.

From his peripheral, he was aware of Damian’s approach.

“I can’t believe you’re still willing to support me in all this.” Trev stared straight ahead. “But thank you.”

“You’re one of my team, Blane. I don’t abandon friends.”

“How can you consider me anything but an enemy after… after…” The building burn from his tears forced him to blink them away.

“Soleil is alive and well, and I should’ve led withthat information when I arrived at your cell. I apologize for my oversight.”

Trev sighed under the weight of his relief and rested his forehead on his folded arms. “Thank you,” he said feelingly.Apparentlyhe’d been wrong and had scared her to the extent of avoidance. That information didn”t ease his suffering. After the long minute it took to compose himself, he straightened. “Will you give her a message for me?”

“You can give it to her yourself after this.”

“I doubt she wants to hear from me.”

Damian viewed him through twinkling eyes. “Her sisters practically had to sit on her to keep her away today, Trevor.”

Hope blossomed in Trev”s chest. “But why… Oh. Right.”

Until he spontaneously stopped trying to kill her, she was safer away from him.

“That,yes.” Damian replied to Trevor’s unspoken thought. “But more importantly, the goal was to keep her safe from Agnes Vector and her black widow of a daughter.”

“Black widow?” Deni hadn”t revealed she’d been married. But then again, she wasn’t the poster child for honesty. Their entire relationship was an epic lie.

Damian’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “Count yourself lucky to have escaped her marriage noose. Four others weren’t as fortunate.”

Acid seared Trev’s insides as he met Deni’s calculating dark eyes across the chamber.

“How many of those did I unknowingly kill on her behalf?” he asked hoarsely.

“Only one.”

“Christ!”

“He doesn’t weigh into what the magical community does, and with good reason. Some of those with power are godless.” Damian rose as the Council filed in. He handed Trevor a tanzanite signet ring, following it with a pair of earpieces. “Put these in.”

“What are they?” He hurried to comply.

“The best your father and I could figure, they implanted a sleeper term, and when spoken directly to you, it wakes up your inner killer.”

Trevor stared at him, incredulous. “I’m their Manchurian Candidate?”

“I believe so, yes.”

He swayed on his feet as the far-reaching implications occurred to him. “You need to put me down, Dethridge.”

“Nonsense. The earpieces act as filters. Nothingshesays will be able to penetrate the device. Her mother or Melvin either.”

“What if there are other agents able to activate me?”

“I have a good idea what wording they crafted as their call to action. Today, I hope they prove me correct.”

Trevor swallowed hard. Damian was playing fast and loose with people’s lives, and he didn’t know why. As the Aether, he could’ve and should’ve easily stopped Trev from harming Soleil, and yet he didn’t. Why, when he continually swore he wouldn’t let anything happen to her?

The Aether plucked the fears from Trevor’s mind. “I’m not, you know. Playing fast and loose with people’s lives, that is. I trust in the ability of those around us to stop you should the need arise. Without your power, they can easily subdue you.”

“They didn’t the last time. Neither did you, for that matter.”

Damian opened his mouth and closed it, as if he wanted to speak but feared revealing what he shouldn’t. Finally, he said, “All will be well, Blane. Trust the process, and remember what I said about knowing too many details about the future. Things happen for a reason.”“I wish I had your confidence, Dethridge.”

Brooke Ellis stepped forward and held up her hand for silence. “The trial of Trevor Blane will now reconvene!”