Dark Champion (Flirting with Monsters #4) - Eva Chase Page 0,77

murderous mortal to tear them apart.

It was evening by the time we docked the boat and started up the rocky terrain to the location Ruse’s hacker had pinpointed. By the time Ruse pointed out the shabby cabin from which Tempest’s mortal lackey had been doing his work, night had fully set in.

“From what we’ve gathered,” the incubus whispered as we crept toward the building, “she’s had this fellow investigating ruins that were constructed with protections to repel shadowkind. Looking to see what secrets the ancients might have wanted to keep from monstrous eyes.”

I studied the thin glow that seeped from the cabin’s one dingy window. “She must think whatever he could find will be important to completing her plan, or she wouldn’t have him still poking around out here rather than behind Company building walls.”

Thorn reappeared next to us, back from a quick scouting. “There are plates of silver and iron in the walls of that place, but it’s fragile enough that I should be able to smash it with only minor discomfort.”

“Not exactly subtle,” Ruse said.

“We don’t have time for subtle—and if this mortal is as wrapped up in Tempest’s affairs as it seems, he might contact her at any sign of interference before we have a chance to carry out a longer plan.” Omen wiped his hands together. “So, let’s see some crashing.”

Thorn gave us a grim smile, squared his massive shoulders, and hurtled toward the cabin. I’d seen him smash through concrete walls, so this wasn’t a surprising feat. Adrenaline hummed through my veins all the same.

The warrior rammed into the side of the cabin fists first. The weathered wood creaked and crumpled. Jaw clenched against the toxic effects of the metals around him, Thorn grabbed the startled middle-aged man standing inside and wrenched him out from under the teetering roof.

The rest of us were already hustling over the hillside to meet them. I spotted the gleam of a thin silver-and-iron-twined band on the man’s index finger and pushed myself faster. As soon as I reached him, I snatched his hand and tore the ring off.

The man flinched with an oddly faint cry. A second later, Ruse was at his side. The incubus fell into his cajoling tone. “Hello, friend. We’re here to help you escape the fiend who’s held you in her sway.”

The usual glaze didn’t come over the man’s gray eyes. He attempted to shove away, but Thorn still gripped his shoulders firmly.

A momentary frown crossed Ruse’s face, but he soldiered on. “We only want what’s best for you. We’ll sort this all out—you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

The man thrashed in Thorn’s hands again, totally unaffected. Then he made a desperate gesture at Snap, as if assuming the sweetest looking figure among us was most likely to be on his side.

Something about the movement of his hands struck a pang of recognition. Understanding clicked in my head.

A rough chuckle fell from my lips. “Tempest didn’t bother to hide him for a reason. She knew no shadowkind could charm him with a little sweet-talking.”

Omen shot me a sharp look. “What are you talking about?”

I motioned to the man. “I’m pretty sure that gesture he just made was sign language. He can’t hear a thing Ruse is saying—he’s deaf.”

21

Snap

“Look at it,” Ruse said, waggling his phone in the mortal man’s face. The glow of its screen showed a message the incubus had typed. “Doesn’t it make you want to follow my every command?”

The man who worked for Tempest jerked his head to the side, unable to move any farther than that thanks to Thorn’s strong hands holding him in place.

We’d gone inside the partly smashed cabin, taking spots around a rough wooden table now scattered with splinters from the wall the warrior had bashed through. Thorn had the man planted in a chair while he loomed from behind. Ruse sat across the table from him. Sorsha and I stood on either side of the incubus, watching the proceedings, while Omen paced the small space by the cabin’s kitchen. Without even looking at him, I could tell the hellhound shifter was just as unhappy with the situation as our captive looked.

“Would it work even if you could make him read it?” I asked.

Ruse grimaced. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to charm through visuals before. Persuading with my voice is what comes naturally. It’d be easier to tell if we could force him to read in the first place. Even if our stalwart lunk here