your money, you takes your choice."
"Yeah." Depressed all over again, Sam took the mug. "I've certainly heard that one before."
Chapter Eighteen
She'd intended to relax, shop, indulge in a day at a spa or salon. She'd intended to do as little thinking as possible for three days and three nights. To focus on her own emotional and physical well-being. She had not intended to take the time and effort to gain admittance into the federal facility where Evan Remington was being held.
But since she had done so, she could rationalize the decision. Time was growing short. If fate was leading her to Remington, she would follow the path. She was in no real danger, and there was the possibility, however slight, that something good could come out of the visit. She didn't question the fact that she was able to set up a meeting with him with relatively little trouble. There were powers at work that scoffed at the tangled red tape of bureaucracy. And she was part of them.
She faced him across a wide counter split down the center by a barricade of thick, reinforced glass. Mia picked up the phone that would link them, as he did.
"Mr. Remington. Do you remember me?"
"Whore," he hissed.
"Yes, I see you do. And that the months you've spent in here haven't improved your disposition."
"I'll be out soon."
"Is that what he tells you?" She leaned a little closer. "He lies."
A muscle began to twitch in his cheek. "I'll be out soon," he repeated. "And you'll be dead."
"We've beaten him twice. And only a few nights ago he ran from me with his tail between his legs. Has he told you that?"
"I know what's going to happen. I've seen it. I know you'll all die screaming. Can you see it?"
For a moment she could, reflected on the glass between them. The dark, boiling storm, the rips of lightning, the swirl of roaring wind as the sea opened like a hungry mouth and swallowed the island whole.
"He shows you his desire, but not reality."
"I'll have Helen." His voice went dreamy, like a child repeating a rhyme. "She'll crawl back to me. She'll pay for her deception, her betrayal."
"Nell's beyond you. Look at me. At me," she demanded. She wouldn't allow even his thoughts to touch Nell now. "There's only me to deal with. He's using you, Evan. As he would a puppet, or a vicious little dog. He uses your illness, your anger. He'll destroy you with it. I can help you."
"He'll fuck you before he kills you. Want a preview?"
It happened fast. Pain ripped through her breasts as if claws had dug into her flesh. A spear of ice jabbed with one hard thrust between her legs. She didn't cry out, though a scream of rage and horror spewed into her throat. Instead she drew her power down like armor. Punched it out like a fist. Remington's head snapped back, and his eyes went wide with shock.
"He uses," she said calmly. "You pay. Did you think threats and ploys would make me tremble? I am of the Three. What works in me is beyond your scope. I can help you. I can save you from the horror he will bring you. If you'll trust me and help yourself, I can close you off from him. I can shield you so that he can't use or harm you."
"Why?"
"To save myself and what I love, I would save you."
He inched closer to the glass. She could hear his raspy breathing over the receiver. For a moment true pity stirred in her.
"Mia Devlin." He licked his lips, then they spread into a wide, mad smile. "You'll burn! Burn the witch!"
He cackled even as the guard rushed over to restrain him. "I'll watch while you die screaming."
Though Remington dropped the phone when the guard dragged him away, she heard his wild laughter long after the door slammed and locked behind him.
The laughter, she thought, of the damned.
Sam had a meeting with his accountant. Revenue was up, but so were expenses and overhead. The Magick Inn was operating in the red for the first time in thirty years, but as Sam saw it that would change. He'd booked two conventions for the fall, and with the winter holiday package he was putting together, he expected to recoup some of the loss over that historically slow reservation period. Until that time he could, and would, continue to plow his own money into the hotel. If the hotel, and the island,