Devil's Own (18 page)

“I don’t get it,” Owain interjected, pensive, rubbing his stubbly jaw. “Why didn’t Florian just leave then? He had a good head start, half the night and half of the following day. Why stick around?”

“At the park, he told me he had scores to settle,” Niall said.

“Florian must have been drunk on his own perceived superior wit,” Gus said at the exact same time.

Both men looked at each other and smiled. Niall really liked seeing Gus smile. For a time back at the park, he had assumed Gus would never let him forget he got caught in a deadly jam, but Gus had a gift for forgiveness and understanding.

“Anyway, Florian had arranged for Farrah to meet him in the passage,” Niall continued. “According to her statement, she had assumed Florian was going to let her go, and she would have insisted because of the cruel joke on Angelina. But she was wrong. When Farrah refused to go with him, Florian hit her over the head, chained her to the wall, and left her there, possibly for dead or for later retrieval. We’ll probably never know for certain unless Florian confesses.”

“You think that’s likely?” Gus asked, frowning in disbelief.

Niall shook his head. “No fucking way.” He watched amused as Owain gave him the evil eye for cussing. “In any case, Farrah and Goddard will be departing for warmer climes soon, probably before Florian’s trial.”

“Ella is dead,” Owain commented. “Will that other young woman, Ida, give testimony against her brother?”

Niall could only shrug. Hughes hadn’t told him yet what she’d said in her statement. “I don’t know. Maybe. The thing is it’s unclear what Florian Talbot was about to do to the two women. Could be something vile and grotesque, or just another performance.”

Gus let out a disbelieving scoff. “Ida can’t truly believe she was going to get off scot-free with someone as unscrupulous as Talbot?”

Niall grinned. “Ivan sure doesn’t. He’s Ida’s twin brother. Nola had called him, and he arrived at the scene when the paramedics were patching up Ida’s arm. The knife Florian threw scraped a minor gash. When Ivan came, he was pretty much stunned, calling out what the hell was going on. Ida demanded to know where he’d been the past couple of months. It seems the press’s favorite whipping boy had been admitted to rehab, as he’s trying to get his life back together. Guess now they both need to do that.”

“Their family is in shambles,” Gus agreed, sounding sad about it.

Niall wanted to hug the man close to his chest, inhale his masculine scent, and devour those full, pouty lips till his cock exploded under the stupid hospital gown. Swallowing hard, he got himself under control, shifting on the bed discreetly. “I heard Ida say she wanted to be free of the duties of being a Talbot, constantly under the public eye, all her mistakes recorded and publicized. To her the black masses and stuff were just fun and games, nothing real behind it. Ivan’s gonna take care of her, and they were hugging by the time I left.”

“Sounds like Ida’s probably gonna have to testify against Florian if she wants to stay out of jail,” Owain remarked sensibly, and Niall was certain that was the case.

“Yeah. Only Ida, Ella, and Millicent knew the truth about Titus’s murder. Both Ella and Millicent are dead. Ida’s the only one left who can give evidence about Florian’s plans and his crimes.”

Niall wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He had been tied up as an intended human sacrifice, a lamb to the slaughter, and Ida had done nothing to help him. As far as Niall was concerned, she could rot in jail—as long as she testified against Florian. Yet, a part of him—the one Gus had helped cultivate—wanted to forgive and forget, to put the whole matter to rest and focus on the future. And prison would undoubtedly do Ida little good, not like her brother could.

“Millicent Marsden definitely knew about the secret passages, then?” Owain asked, curious.

Niall nodded. “Yes. Florian said as much. The altar room underground was Millicent’s domain for the worship of Lilith. What she hadn’t known, however, was all the things Florian had used the passages and tunnels for. Like what he’d done to Farrah. Back in the park, Florian confessed he killed Millicent because she was shocked at learning all the criminal things Florian had done to—”

“But she wasn’t shocked about what Florian did to Titus, his own son?” Gus shook his head in obvious anger, and Niall could relate.

“I don’t think she knew Titus was Florian’s son,” Niall said slowly, puzzling the pieces together in his mind. “I think Florian gave her the party line, the same cockamamie bullshit story he gave to Ida, about Titus trying to rip them off.”

“And she bought that enough to allow it to happen?” Gus looked away, his lips a thin line, showing exactly how furious he was about the Talbot family and everything they had done and condoned.

Niall sighed. “Millicent’s dead, so I guess it’s a moot point. She paid the price for her transgressions.” Gus said nothing, but he stood there, back ramrod straight, arms crossed over his chest. “The Talbot family is broken, and the remaining members will soon be scattered to the winds. Their tale of notoriety is at an end.”

Gus seemed a bit remorseful. He could still empathize with the people who had done nothing wrong. “What happens to Oswald and Henrietta? And what about Nola?”

Niall rubbed his jaw where it ached after one of Florian’s blows. He’d have a hell of a bruise tomorrow, and another around his eye. “The district attorney likely won’t prosecute either Oswald or Henrietta at this time. Considering how many lives have been lost, suing those two for incest would be counterproductive, a distraction from the state’s case against Florian. And besides, they had nothing to do with Florian’s crimes.”

“And Nola?” Gus asked.

“Well, Nola was packing up to leave in the dead of night.” Niall rested his head on the pillow, starting to feel weary again. Seeing his father and his boyfriend had cheered him up, but that energizing effect was wearing off. “She’d gotten into the library safe. The family jewels were in her possession when she was caught. Thankfully, the peepholes allowed the police to see what she was up to and catch her before she could make her getaway.”

“She’ll be prosecuted for theft?” Gus asked, frowning. Niall surmised his guy didn’t think Nola’s crime was all that great, since she was poor and the family had given her nothing.

Niall shrugged. “I don’t know. Theft, robbery, attempted theft or robbery. That’s up to the DA. Besides, it’s possible she’s named in Millicent’s will, so she could come into possession of those items anyway. She has no prior criminal record. And the circumstances could be construed as extenuating.”

Gus smiled warmly then, his eyes sparkling. “You could’ve been a lawyer.”

Both Niall and Owain groaned out loud. “Don’t ever say that again!” Niall muttered, grumbling.

Gus laughed. “Aww, I’ll have to remember that one.” Then he sobered up. “Was Deon Delaney badly hurt?”

“No, he was just tied up like me,” Niall replied. “He’d been drugged. Hughes told me Deon confessed to attempted fraud. Florian Talbot accused Deon of being a thief and an embezzler, and it seems he wasn’t far off the mark. Tia and Titus, however, knew nothing about Deon’s plans. Apparently, Deon had gotten wind of Titus’s presence in the Talbot household, and decided to run a little scam of his own. He’s going to prison. Tia might be charged with unlawful possession of a firearm, but that’s also up to the DA.”

“By the goddess, Tia must be angry with her brother,” Gus commented, seemingly quite emotional. “I mean, Deon’s involvement lead to Florian suspecting Titus of the same greed and Titus getting killed.”

“We don’t know that, babe,” Niall cut in, adamant. “After all, Florian Talbot could have decided to kill his son for a thousand different reasons that had nothing to do with Deon. There’s no direct, provable causal relationship there.”

Blushing a bit, Gus nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right.” But Niall couldn’t be sure if Gus was flushing because of the admission of possibly being wrong or because Niall had chosen to use an endearment in front of his father.
And about time I did that too
. Claiming his boyfriend in front of all would be the best decision he ever made.

Owain grinned, the gleam in his eyes that of fatherly pride, making Niall want to puff his chest. “So, son, when are they going to discharge you?”

Niall complained sharply, “They’re keeping me overnight for observation.” He used a baby-talk voice and air quotes as he said it, knowing full well how immature they made him seem.

“Poor baby,” Gus cooed back with his own version of a lilting voice.

Owain laughed harder. “Looks like you’ve got things in hand here, Son.” Turning to Gus, Owain extended his hand again, and Gus shook it. “We’ll have to do lunch someday soon, Gus. All three of us. Including Grumpy over there.” With a mere shoulder lift, he indicated his son, which made Niall glare at him.

But Gus was beaming. “I’d love it. I look forward to hearing your war stories.” All of a sudden he seemed to realize what he had said, and his cheeks reddened to the color of radishes, and he stammered, “Wait, that’s not what I—”

Owain chuckled amiably. “No worries, son. I knew what you meant.” Moving swiftly to Niall’s side of the bed, he leaned closer to touch Niall’s shoulder gently. “Now you do as you’re told by the nurses and doctors, okay?” Niall rolled his eyes. Was he really being lectured like a child? “Oh, don’t you give me any of that Welsh uppity attitude. I’d be more than happy to park my chair in this room and play poker with the guys all night just to annoy you.”

Niall resisted the urge to sigh torturously. Instead, he plastered his most polite, and most fake, smile on his lips. “Yes, Daddy.”

Owain tousled Niall’s hair. “That’s my boy. Listen, I’ve gotta run. I’ll be back to see you in the morning.” Leaning even closer under the pretext of bussing his cheek, Owain whispered, “I think you’re in good hands with this one, Son.”

Niall smiled at that. “Yeah, I think so too.” He hugged his father briefly but with all the warmth they shared. “See ya tomorrow. Bye, Dad.”

With two quick comradely chin lifts, Owain headed out the door.

“I like your dad a lot,” Gus said, inching closer to Niall until he could sit on the bed by Niall’s side and hold his hand. “I can see a lot of him in you.”

Niall grinned. “That’s about the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, babe.”

Gus snorted. “Dork.” Then he grew serious once more. “Listen, Niall—”

“I’m all right, I swear,” Niall interjected fast, not wanting his partner to worry. “One night here with hospital Jell-O, and I’ll be outta here before you know it.”

Gus snickered. “Well, that’s all well and good, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh?” Niall frowned, puzzled.

“I was actually thinking about Autumnsong,” Gus admitted, munching on the inside of his cheek.

“Oh.” Niall was concerned about the little Asian twink of a religious expert too. Autumnsong had apparently been right in the thick of things, well aware of what was going on. He had lead Gus straight to Tia and the truth of Florian’s crimes. “Funny you should mention him.” He recalled being lifted into the ambulance—and seeing… “I think I saw him.”

Gus’s eyes widened. “Autumnsong? When? Where?”

“Back in Madison Park. Just as I was being wheeled into the ambulance.” He frowned, searching for details from his memory. But the image was elusive and blurry. He shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know… I could have imagined seeing him there.” He looked at Gus sharply. “Have
you
heard from him?”

Gus shook his head, glum. “No, nothing. Juliette’s been trying to reach him, but to no avail. And the cell phone number he gave us is no longer working.” He harrumphed loudly. “He’s gone to ground. But I can’t shake the feeling he’s involved in all this up to his eyeballs.” He let out a deep sigh. “Guess we’ll never know what role he had to play in all this.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Niall countered slowly, his eyelids feeling as heavy as his body. All this talking took a lot out of him, or he was worse off than he had initially thought. “Seattle’s a small town. We might run into him again.” Then he yawned so fiercely he had tears in his eyes, and his jaw almost locked out of place.

“You’re tired,” Gus observed, his voice tender as he cupped Niall’s cheek, stroking so lightly Niall barely felt it. “Go to sleep.”

Niall offered a weak smile while his eyes closed of their own volition. “You gonna stay with me?”

With some difficult maneuvering and a couple of huffs and puffs, Gus lay down next to Niall. Gus kissed Niall’s lips, the brush soft and warm and dry. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Now hush.”

After that sweet smooch, that caring promise, and that heated body next to his own, it didn’t take Niall long at all to doze off in utter contentment.

“Y
OU
DIDN
’
T
cast the circle this time.”

Curious, Gus looked up at Niall, who was sitting cross-legged across from him in Gus’s altar room in his apartment above The Four Corners. Butterflies danced in Gus’s stomach at Niall’s realization that the ritual was different from the last time they’d done this, during Ostara nearly two months ago. In his raggedy jeans, gray long-sleeved polo shirt, and barefoot, Niall looked delicious. A little over a week had passed since Niall’s stint in the hospital, and all his scrapes and bruises had healed. And that confident grin Niall sported made Gus’s own jeans feel uncomfortably snug in the crotch.

“No. There’s activity outside the circle, so I went for a less traditional ritual pattern.”

“Uh-huh.” Niall shrugged with a grin. “What are we gonna do? I seem to recall you promised me cake.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Gus laughed.

“You dog,” Gus scolded playfully. “Control your hunger, mister. We’re not there yet.”

“Tease…,” Niall muttered under his breath, but clearly making sure Gus heard him. “So, you gonna tell me about this festival and all these decorations?”

Gus looked around. He had gone all out this Beltane because he had a special someone to celebrate with. “You may have noticed I brushed the sacred space clean with the besom.”