then allowed himself to add, “Auguste had her taken away from me.” His jaw tightened. “I ended up in Purgatory.”
“Where did he take her?” Diel asked.
“Killed her,” Sela whispered after a few tense seconds. He lifted his chin. “He made sure I knew that he killed her. That she would never be mine again. That I would never have anything for myself ever again.”
The rage simmering in Diel rose to a boil. His hands shook, and he was sure he could feel his monster breaking through for a moment just to show his fury.
“Brother …” Diel said.
Sela stood, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “We’re going to get your sister back from whatever fucked-up reality he has her living in.” Sela’s face displayed more evil than any painting he could ever create. “Then I’m going to kill my brother once and for all.” Sela nodded, as if reassuring himself of that fact. “He has your sister. He hurt the Coven, your Noa.” Sela hissed as he inhaled. “And he took my Destiny away from me. My greatest and only muse. For that, he will die, and he will die slowly.”
Sela began to walk away.
“Sela … I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Diel said. Sela turned back to him, nodding his head. Then Diel thought of Sela’s studio. The paintings, the statues … and realization hit him. They were all different forms of the same person. Of the same girl. “She’s who you draw, isn’t she?” he asked. “Who you try to recreate.”
Sela’s gaze drifted off over the gardens again. “I found out a long time ago that you can’t recreate perfection.” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Though every day I try, just so I can see her face again. Just so I can have her back in some small way.”
It took Sela a while to move again, clearly drained of energy. When it seemed he’d mustered up enough strength, he walked away in silence, and Diel knew not to follow. His brother wanted to be alone. But as he watched Sela go, Diel’s nerves felt untied, frayed. Auguste had killed the love of Sela’s life. His own brother took away his only chance at happiness and then dumped him in hell.
As Sela was swallowed up by the thick mist, Diel got to his feet. He raced back through the gardens to the manor and straight back into his bed. Noa shifted as her warm skin met his cold body. Her eyes flickered open, a sleepy smile forming on her lips when she saw Diel looking down at her. As Sela had said about Destiny, to Diel, Noa was perfection. Unaware of his inner worship, she laid her cheek on Diel’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around her as she fell back to sleep.
But Diel could only think of Sela and Destiny, his best friend’s “one,” whom Auguste had robbed him of forever. They’d taken Cara from Diel too. So he squeezed Noa tighter. If anyone even dared come for her, he wouldn’t rest until he’d torn them apart and bathed in their blood.
The monster inside him agreed.
Chapter 24
“All the beds and bedroom furniture arrive tomorrow,” Gabriel said to his brothers. He took a sip of his red wine, looking relaxed as he sat back in the head seat at the table. “I’ll need all of your help to get the home finished off before the children finally move here.”
Noa was sitting at the dining table with the Fallen and the rest of the Coven sharing an evening meal, as had become their usual routine. Diel nodded at Gabriel. He kept his hand wrapped in Noa’s—her constant anchor.
Dinah leaned forward, putting her arms on the table. “Perfect. That will give us ladies a chance to scout out a few locations we know of.” Noa nodded in agreement, but her stomach churned with betrayal. She didn’t lift her eyes, in an attempt to avoid any of her sisters’ gazes. She couldn’t let them see. “We have a few places we believe the ledgers could be,” Dinah continued. “I want to see how heavily guarded they are. Track the comings and goings.”
Dinah was right. There was a chance that the ledger containing the details of the Shunned could be in any number of places. But Noa believed that ledger was somewhere else, somewhere specific. Somewhere only she and Priscilla had ever been to in person. A place Auguste and his Witch Finders kept for their worst kind of heretics—the unrepentant and unremorseful.