Castiel: With Lies (Adair Empire Book 3) Read online

  “You do know he was going to betray you and father, don’t you?” I lash out at Gustave as Thomas exits the vehicle he’s driving us in.

  “No, he wasn’t. He was going to reap great rewards for helping us kill the Adairs.” Idiot.

  “You never struck me as stupid, Gustave. Guess I was wrong.” I shrug like it’s no big deal.

  His fist drops me to the ground as the door behind me is ripped open. The hard fall hurts, but not nearly as much as my throbbing cheek. I can feel the bruising taking up residence already.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Thomas yells at him. “Do you have any idea how much money I’m getting for her to be in perfect condition?” Pulling me to my feet, I see we’re near water. Like an international gateway.

  “I’m not some toy you can sell,” I scream at Thomas. I still haven’t wrapped my mind around that one.

  “Shut up,” he orders me, pushing me through a warehouse door. The building is empty except for a few crates on one side of the wall. The smell of death is prevalent in the room.

  A video camera sits center stage on top of a rug, beside a chair. “I planned to have a little fun with you while we wait.” His breath against my neck is disturbing.

  “No,” I say forcefully. I will do nearly anything, but this man will not take my body. I won’t let him.

  Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he laughs. “You think a measly little word from you will stop me?”

  “I won’t let you!”

  Gustave is circling us like a wolf as Thomas drags me in front of his camera. “I’d like to leave your boyfriend a little parting gift.”

  I have to swallow back the bile that is rising. “What’s the endgame here, Thomas?” Maybe I can keep him talking long enough for Cas to get here.

  “Endgame?” The moron looks confused.

  “You’ve been going at these men for months now, I’m curious as to why?” Narcissistic men like to talk about themselves, right?

  He sizes me up before tossing me on the ground. I attempt to crawl away, and he sits on my back, yanking my arms behind my back to tie my hands together. The rope cuts into my skin.

  “I’m not sure it’s much of a reason other than greed. I want what King has. Money. Power. A free pass to kill whomever I like.” Gustave scoffs at the man’s machinations.

  “You don’t think he can have it?” I ask Gustave. Maybe I can pit them against each other. Gustave shrugs, not looking like he wants to say anything. “You’ve always been an underling. Maybe it’s you who wants to be on top?”

  Thomas laughs loudly at that. “He doesn’t have the balls.”

  “What’d you say, Scot?” Gustave takes a menacing step forward.

  Thomas doesn’t move off my back. “I said, you haven’t got the balls to command an entire empire.” He does stand then.

  Gustave whips out his Glock and points it at the other man. “The fuck do you know about me?” It’s a rhetorical question.

  Thomas has to answer, though. The fool. “I know you’re a pansy-ass bitch looking to make a quick buck. I know you’re a hybrid little weasel from the bayou that can’t tell his mother from his lover.” Thomas laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

  Gustave’s anger gets the best of him, and I just know this isn’t going to end well. Likely for me as he charges at Thomas.

  As he tackles the man to the ground, I try and scoot away from the flying fists and grunting bodies. A gun goes off, and I’m jerked to the side, but adrenaline has my blooding pumping too hard for me to know where the bullet landed. If it was a stray or if it hit me.

  Hidden by the crates, I lean against the wall trying to get my wrists free as I hear them continue with their insults and punches. A gun goes off three more times. Once on its own, then twice more in rapid succession. I imagine they both got a shot off, but without having them in sight, I don’t know if either is dead or alive. Too afraid to reveal myself, I try to control my breathing, and that’s when I feel it.

  Liquid dripping down my arm and pooling under my ass. “Shit,” I mutter as fire races through my chest. The pain more than I’ve ever encountered before. I can’t see where or how bad it is in the dark, so I have to get up. I need to move. I need help.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Thomas calls.

  Double shit.

  I know what he wants to do to me.

  I refuse to be raped.

  It’s not happening.

  “If you keep hiding, it’ll only make it worse for yourself.” I work my wrists double time, biting my lip to fight through the pain. I have to get free if I want any chance of saving myself.

  A burst of flame lights the room as I inhale the decaying stench of burning flesh. The scent more than enough to cause me to gag. Biting into my knee, I try to stifle any sounds.

  “A blood trail,” he calls out.

  Fuck a goddamn duck. Can I not catch a break?

  I know the rope has cut further into my skin because of the slickness, and I finally feel some give in the knots. Shuffling quietly to sit between two crates, I look around for a weapon as the ropes continue to loosen.

  Noticing a pipe, I move over to it, so when I’m free, I can be ready quickly. My triumph is short-lived as Thomas appears. “There you are.” He sneers like he’s won the lottery.

  “I don’t fucking think so.” My voice sounds hollow. I can’t lose consciousness yet.

  “You keep protesting as if you have a choice in the matter.” He chuckles at my naïveté. “I’ll do anything to you I like before selling you to some terrorist with a penchant for pretty American girls.”

  Back against the wall, I push myself to my feet. I’ll go down swinging no matter what. Inching away from Thomas, I keep working my wrists. When I feel the material loosen enough that one hand slips free, I make a run for it. The smell of gas hits my nostrils as I pass a pipe in the wall, and I turn back to see it has a dial. Stopping, I open it, and the scent intensifies.

  Thomas’s breath is coming faster than his form, and I’m running again. The door we came through not long ago is in sight, and I fight to force my body to move faster. I know that with Gustave’s dead body still burning and the gas rushing through the warehouse, it won’t be long before it all explodes. I reach the opening just as Thomas realizes what I’ve done.

  “You whore!” he yells as I lock the door handle and slam it shut behind me. A whistling sounds as I keep running, the only warning before the entire building blows, throwing me and every object around it through the air with its power. Darkness begins to cloud my vision as the building burns. Two bodies inside. Me outside.

  I’m free.

  For the first time in my life, I’m completely free.

  With a smile on my face and happiness in my heart, my breathing slows, and I let the bliss of obscurity take me away.

  The entire flight home was quiet. Not a word was spoken in recognition of what we were likely coming home to.

  Talia gone.

  My life fucking empty and full of rage once again.

  While I’m grateful that King and Luther’s girls are safe, I’m pissed mine decided to play the martyr. Lil and Ariel had no idea she was gone at first. They’d been searching the gardens for her when it was discovered she was missing.

  After checking the security feed King had been sent, we saw Thomas and Gustave escorting her through the back of the property. She looked worried and pissed. Both things she had every right to feel. I’m hopping at least one of the emotions kept her smart.

  “Explosion at the docks,” Carver says from his seat in the front.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Fire and rescue are already on scene. Two bodies found.” I feel sick. “One person taken to the hospital.”

  Hope lights my heart. That’s a new one for me. “Hospital, Luth,” I command. Needing to know if it’s her, or if someone else is going to die by my hand tonight.

  The ER isn’t nearly as bustling as I would expect after an exp
losion until I remember that it was an abandoned lot. No one should have been there in the first place.

  King and Luther head back to the house after dropping Carver and me off. We wait in line at the triage desk because admitting is empty, and any other form of life is absent to help a person with questions.

  “Can I help you, sir?” The older woman asks me finally.

  Stepping forward, I tell her, “I’m looking for a patient.”

  “Name?”

  “Talia Andersson.”

  I wait while she punches the name in on her screen. “Nope. Not tonight.”

  “Look again,” I growl, refusing to believe Talia died in that warehouse.

  Huffing out an exasperated breath, Carver places a hand on my shoulder to stop me from jumping the counter and clocking the woman.

  Clucking her teeth, she says again, “No one by that name shows up in the past week’s charts.”

  I see red.

  Carver’s hands hold me in place.

  “Warehouse explosion. Who came in?” Carver hisses through his teeth. Being more civilized than I for the first time in history.

  “Oh yes, a woman–“

  “Where?” I ask. It has to be her. Not waiting for an answer, I rush through the doors next to the nurse’s cubicle marked no entrance.

  “Sir, you can’t go back there!” she yells.

  Ignoring her, I rip curtains to the side, push doors open, and ignore everyone trying to tell me to stop. They don’t fucking know. Talia is my light. Without her, I’m more than existing in the dark, I’m rotting in fucking hell. I won’t give that up without a fucking war.

  “Dolce!” I yell, hoping she’s awake and will hear me. That she isn’t so injured that she’s in surgery.

  Two security guards stand at the end of the corridor, hands on their hips as if they could stop me. “Sir, you aren’t permitted to be back here,” the taller one says.

  “Get the fuck out of my way.” My size alone should intimidate him. Wariness flickers briefly before he bulks up and stands his ground.

  “You need to leave,” he demands.

  Carver steps in front of me before I shoot the motherfucker, saying, “I enjoy certain…proclivities. Like skinning a person. Peeling back layers of muscle to expose bone.” Both guards go pale. When Carver talks about his joy for torture, there’s no masking his pleasure in it. “You move and let my brother find his girl, or you’ll get to revel in my favorite pastimes.” Both men move away from the door.

  Pushing through the passageway they were blocking, the smell of antiseptic and impending doom hit my nostrils. “Where the fuck is she?” I mutter to myself.

  “Cas, over here,” Carver calls from another hallway.

  Jogging to him, I see him pointing to a woman curled up on a gurney against a wall. No room. No doctor. No one watching her. Protecting her.

  Anger spiked, I rush to her. “Dolce?” I whisper as I brush her blonde, sooty locks away from her face. She’s covered in dirt and blood, and when I see her hands covered in rope burns and sliced flesh, I lose my shit.

  Observing a doctor rounding one corner, I grab a fistful of his coat as he walks closer. “Why the fuck is she out here with no one caring for her?”

  “I don’t know.” I can feel him trying to pull away.

  I tug him closer; Carver steps behind him. “Fix her.” My words are ruthless and leave no room for anything less.

  Reaching for her chart, he looks through quickly. “She was shot in the arm, just a graze. Received stitches. Wrists need to be bandaged still, and she’s got a concussion.”

  “She can leave.” I don’t ask. It’s all minor. Our in-house doctor has treated most of us for far worse.

  “Well, I wouldn’t recommend that,” the man says, seeming to grow a backbone.

  “I don’t give a fuck. She’s been left in a goddamn hallway with no one to care for her. I’ll be taking Talia home. Get the paperwork.” The physician doesn’t move, just stares at me. “Now!” I shout, and he jumps into action.

  Brushing my hands gently along her body, studying her bruises, the cuts. The bandage on her arm from the bullet graze. Someone’s going to fucking die for hurting my girl. Even if there’s no one left to kill.

  “Call King, get Arthur to the house. She’s coming home.”

  “Got it.” Carver walks away, surveilling everyone with a critical eye as they pass.

  When the doctor finally comes back around with the discharge papers, my skin is crawling with impatience. “We good?”

  “Yes.” That’s all I need to hear.

  “Come on, baby, let’s get you home.” Picking Talia up, I hold her tight to my chest, the idea of her not in my arms something I won’t handle well any longer.

  “But sir, there are instructions.” He waves some papers at me as I walk past him to Carver holding open a door.

  “Fuck off, asshole,” I snap and keep walking.

  TALIA

  The soft sound of water falling pulls me from the peacefulness of sleep. I don’t want to wake up, but the pressure on my bladder ensures that I do. Dark surrounds me as I notice I’m back in Castiel’s room.

  Not seeing or feeling his presence in the room, panic threatens to consume me as I throw the blankets off my freezing body. Light-headed and sweating, pain assaults every muscle and bone in my body.

  “Castiel!” I try calling out for him, but my words are too quiet, my throat dry and scratchy. As I stand, the room spins, and my legs protest and threaten to give out beneath me.

  Slowly stepping forward, my hand slides along the bed for guidance, the vast distance between the door and bed looms dauntingly. Sucking in a deep breath and standing taller, I hold my injured arm to my chest and push forward. The wobbling in my body nearly gives way, and I’m out of breath by the time I make it to the entrance.

  Leaning on the wall for a minute as I open the door, I look down both hallways for any sign of life. Not seeing anyone, I wet my chapped lips with my tongue and try calling for Cas again. To no avail. My voice is still a frog’s croak.

  Relying heavily on the wall to support my weight, I slowly stumble my way to the marble staircase that I once admired so deeply. Now, I’d like to smash it to pieces in order to have an elevator or something.

  The descent to the main floor gapes like a black hole. The moonlight reflecting on the last few steps from the side windows at the front door makes me seriously question my sanity as I slide to sit on the first step. There’s no way I’m walking down these stairs without falling and cracking my skull open. I’ll just scoot down each step while holding onto the pegs in the banister. No problem, I can do that.

  By the sixth one, I’m done. Exhaustion weighs heavily on me, and I have to lie down. Thankfully, the stairs are wide, and unless I roll forwards, I should be okay until someone comes for me. Or trips over me.

  Closing my eyes, I rest for a few minutes until I feel someone shaking me gently. Startled, I nearly roll down the stairs. Luckily, whoever it is prevents that from happening.

  “You okay, lady?” The dark man from before asks. Dimitri, I think his name is.

  “Sure.” I mouth, my voice still gone.

  He smirks at my lie. “Going up or down?” He picks me up before I can protest. Pointing down, he chuckles. “Looking for Cas?” I nod, trying to curb the urge to heave the empty contents of my stomach all over the kind man.

  Everything seems to be catching up to me, and I feel worse than I did when I woke up not too long ago.

  “Hey, Cas,” Dimitri calls as we reach the doorway to King’s office. “Found something I thought you might like. She’s a slight, little thing, too.”

  Hearing an animalistic growl, I mouth to Dimitri, “Nice knowing you,” as Cas storms over. His actions belying the anger he’s emitting. He grabs me softly, careful not to rattle or hurt me, as he kicks Dimitri in the knee, sending the man crashing to the ground.

  “Don’t you fucking touch her.” He finally speaks. His voice dead
ly.

  CASTIEL

  Seeing Talia in Dimitri’s arms sends me over the edge that I’m currently tethered to after hearing what Daniel and Luther just found out.

  Viewing her weak, pale body shivering in another man’s arms engages every protective and murderous instinct I have into overdrive.

  “Dolce”—I nuzzle her neck—“what are you doing out of bed?” When she attempts to speak, her voice cracks and she cringes. “Daniel.” He steps forward. “Grab her some water.” The kid is good, he doesn’t question or scoff at any order we give him.

  Spending as much time as I did with him on the trips to the bayou, I understand him the best. I know he’s moving up in the empire. Dimitri is the one I don’t quite trust yet. He still needs to prove himself to me even if he has to the others already.

  “She was sleeping on the stairs,” the man in question says. “Didn’t think you wanted her to take a header.”

  Well, fuck. Staring at him, I don’t detect nefarious intent. I see nothing but a man looking to be accepted. As Daniel comes back in the room, Dimitri stiffens.

  Interesting.

  More so is the look Daniel tries to hide as he brings Talia the glass in his hand. I don’t know what’s going on with the two men, but when shit’s settled down, I intend on asking the younger of the duo.

  Lying Talia down on the sofa, I take my jacket off, covering her shivering body as she takes a small drink. Feeling her forehead, I notice she’s not only shivering but hot as fuck.

  “Get the doctor.” I say to the room as a whole. I don’t care what we were just doing. She needs help.

  “Cas,” she croaks. Her voice is like rusted nails. “What happened?”

  Taken aback, I stare at her as I’m handed an ice pack. Noticing it’s from Dimitri, I murmur, “Thanks, man,” then I answer Talia. “Thomas took you. You were shot, only grazed your arm. Then the warehouse exploded.”

  “He’s dead.” She sighs, and I’m about to be the asshole to rain on her parade.