Omens (The Dark in You #6) - Suzanne Wright Page 0,115

harmed him or even stolen any of his powers.” She frowned. “I don’t know what leapt from him to Lane, but I’m not so sure it was an ability. And if I were Thea, I’d be nervous as hell right now.”

Asher touched his mother’s face. “Want Koey.”

Harper kissed his palm. “Yeah, we all want Khloé, sweetheart. She’ll be here soon.” She looked at Tanner. “He saw her be taken, so he’s a little upset and—”

A hiss escaped Ciaran through gritted teeth. “They’re taking her to Enoch now.”

The bottom fell out of Keenan’s stomach. “Where exactly are they taking her?”

“She doesn’t know yet,” said Ciaran, his voice strained. “But she’ll tell us when she gets there.”

*

Khloé’s stomach rolled as Thea took them on yet another short teleporting trip—the woman’s gift didn’t take them far, so they were having to make seconds’-long pit stops along the way to wherever Enoch waited.

Khloé braced herself for another teleport, but it didn’t come. Apparently, they’d reached their destination. Still inside the crate, she found herself sitting in the middle of a dirt street. She blinked, feeling like she’d traveled back through time to the old west.

Dilapidated wooden buildings were all around her—saloons, a blacksmith, hotels, banks, and a jail and sheriff’s office but to name a few. Many windows had been shattered or boarded up. Wooden planks were rotting, and metal was badly rusted. It made her itch for a tetanus shot.

Shale, pebbles, and debris littered the rocky sand. The remains of broken barrels, wagons, and crates could be seen here and there.

The place had clearly been deserted for many years. There were no people around that she could see—not even Enoch. The only sign of life was the black birds that rested on the posts and roofs, flapping their wings and cawing.

A hot breeze fluttered over her, rustling the weeds and making the sagging doors creak. It also brought with it the scents of rust and dust that laced the stale air.

She reached out to Ciaran, wincing at the shot of psychic pain. I’m in an old western ghost town, she told him. If it’s used as a tourist attraction, it’s closed today for sure, because there’s no one around. But Enoch was probably already here.

Ciaran’s mind touched hers. There are ghost towns all over the world. Do you have any idea where you are?

Khloé tried seeing beyond the deserted town. There was only sand, cacti, and mountains, but … I think we’re still in Nevada.

Why?

Because Thea can’t teleport far, and it only took her four “hops” to get here.

But we don’t know for sure that the Victorian house was in Vegas. Larkin’s looking into what properties Gavril owns. If we can locate it, we can look for the nearest ghost towns. Can you see anything that will help us narrow down our search? Any landmarks? Any signs?

No. It just looks like your average wild, wild west ghost town.

Up ahead, a shutter saloon door swung open, and Enoch stepped out onto the wooden deck. Adrenaline spiked through Khloé, and the entity within her bared its teeth.

Gavril pasted a polite smile on his face. “Hello again, Enoch.”

“Gavril,” the Lazarus demon greeted simply. His grating voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

The Prime flicked a hand in Khloé’s direction. “I’ve brought her to you, bound and caged.”

Enoch’s gaze locked on her, and the hairs on Khloé’s nape lifted. Choosing to no longer hide that her binds were undone, she let her arms casually hang over her raised knees.

Enoch cut his gaze back to Gavril. “Bound and caged?” he challenged.

His lips thinning, the Prime amended, “Caged, then.”

Enoch turned back to the saloon and pushed open the shutter door. “Bring her inside.”

Looking none too happy by the order, Gavril nonetheless nodded at Thea, who then teleported their small party of people into the saloon. Khloé gazed around the dusty, cobweb-filled space, taking in the bar, stools, tables, chairs, piano … and the two corpses flanking Enoch—their skin pale and rotting, their vacant eyes staring into space.

“Oh, God,” muttered Thea, taking a step back.

Similarly, Gavril and his sentinels—one of whom was carrying Lane—recoiled as they stared in horror at the corpses.

A shudder of disgust swept through Khloé. Her fingers itched for the blade that was tucked into her boot. Both corpses were dressed in filthy, ratty clothes from the wild west era. The town must have its own cemetery—most places like this did.

Enoch stalked toward the crate and stared down at Khloé. “I had thought you’d be dead by