Catastrophic Attraction - Eve Langlais Page 0,31

pressed. “Got dicked by a big bad demon and kept the baby instead of dumping it. Probably told people you had the Deviant gene.”

“It’s like you were there,” Gus drawled with a smile that dripped onto his lap.

“Who hired you?” Roark asked, the question followed by an intent stare.

Gus stared right back until his eyes rolled up and he fell over. He started to stink immediately.

“Fuck!” Roark actually let out a shout of annoyance. “With all the messing around in there, his mind was already barely holding on.”

“You killed him?” she asked, glancing back at the body before someone shut the door.

“Not on purpose.”

Titan eyed the next door. “Think we’ll run into the same problem with the others?”

“Only one way to find out.” Casey marched grimly to the next one.

The next door opened to reveal that the prisoner had hung herself—with her own tails. It could have been out of fear or, as Roark suggested, a mental command implanted and meant to keep her from spilling secrets. The captive after tried to attack Roark, lunging and snapping his teeth. It resulted in the lizard thing getting tackled by Titan. Given the violence, no surprise it was killed.

Leaving them with only a human. A female, not a male, as it turned out, with a barrel chest and hair raggedly cut.

Titan started the questioning. “State your name.”

“Rodoh.” The prisoner thumped her chest.

“Where are you from, Rodoh?”

“Outside.”

“Where? What kingdom? Who sent you?”

“Outside,” the prisoner repeated. Not in mockery.

Casey looked at the round face, unlined and unscarred. The guileless and vacant eyes. The woman was simple and obviously not the leader of the crew.

On a hunch, Casey said, “What is your job?”

“I carry.” The prisoner grinned. “Strong.” She lifted a thick arm.

“Why did you come here?” Titan then asked.

“Carry.”

Most of the questions resulted in the same reply. It would appear Rodoh was with the dead crew only to serve them. She carried the heavier gear and knew nothing.

What a waste of time. Casey was ready to leave when Roark whispered, “Rodoh is lying.”

Casey frowned. “About what?”

“Everything.” Roark stood closer, and their round-faced prisoner stared vacuously back. “Your name is Rodoh, but you’re not dumb at all, are you?” Roark touched the prisoner, and Casey could have sworn a cold breeze swept past her skin.

The laughter started low and then rumbled forth until Rodoh practically shook with it. “Stupid, stupid king. You did exactly as expected and brought me inside.” Her lips stretched, but it wasn’t natural looking by any means.

“She’s hiding something,” Roark murmured.

“False king. Pretender. How kind of you to invite.” The rictus didn’t belong on the prisoner’s face and appeared forced. Almost as if someone spoke through Rodoh.

“Why are you here?”

“To kill you.” Again, the thing possessing Rodoh chuckled. “And here you are.”

At the threat, Titan moved toward Rodoh, prepared to protect his king. Whereas Casey glanced down at the female’s corpulent shape and simple linen robe. “Was she searched?”

“Yes. All their gear was confiscated. Nothing was found,” Titan replied, standing between Roark and the prisoner.

Still, Casey eyed the woman who grinned, a thread of saliva winding its way down her chin. Her fingers clenched into a fist. For some reason it brought to mind the claim that Rodoh carried things. Perhaps they needed to search the gear again. Could be something was missed.

The cat sauntered into the room. How she’d made it to this level with the locked doors was anyone’s guess. Sachi strolled over to Rodoh and lifted her head to sniff before uttering a yowl. She turned and bolted.

Rodoh said, “Goodbye,” before slamming herself in the stomach.

The nagging feeling coalesced as Rodoh’s belly compressed then expanded.

“Bomb!” It was Roark who shouted it.

Casey found herself thrust into the hall, a cackle of laughter following then a concussion of sound as another body propelled into her. The form wrapped around her, cushioning her from the blast. Surrounded her with a hot, cloaking darkness that let her know on a primitive level it was Roark. He rocked with her as the floor shook. Grunted as he bore the brunt of the explosion.

When the tremors stopped, the heated shield dissipated, and Casey coughed as the dust in the air filled her lungs. She tugged at the slim band of fabric around her neck and stretched it to cover her lower face. It filtered the worse of the silt.

“Are you okay?” The words came faintly through the ringing in her ears.

She glanced sideways to see Roark eying her with concern, his hair ruffled, his

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