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Authors: Sara Humphreys

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BOOK: Undone (The Amoveo Legend)
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She cracked her eyes open and tried to lift her head but was greeted with a huge wave of nausea. Marianna shut her eyes and took a few deep, cleansing breaths, hoping to quell the nausea and ease her headache. As her stomach settled, she sought the energy signatures of the twins growing in her womb, needing to connect and know they were still safe.

It took only a few seconds to tune into the beautiful hum of their unified energies. Their signatures were in sync, and someone else might mistake them for one, but not Marianna. Tears of relief pricked her eyes as she confirmed that they were indeed healthy, and well… for now.

Marianna kept her head on the pillow and looked cautiously around the room. The white-walled space couldn’t have been bigger than ten by ten. Along the far side of the wall were a toilet and a sink, and directly next to the bed a small table and a chair. The door had that same square window, like the ones she’d passed in the hallway with Artimus and Hayden.

There were no other windows. She didn’t know if it was day or night and had no idea how long it had been since Artimus grabbed her at the cabin. Hours? Days? If Pete survived the assault from Daniella, then Marianna knew that he’d stop at nothing to find her.

But what if he hadn’t? What if Artimus was right, and Pete was dead?

No.
Marianna shook her head as if she could shake away the horrifying thought. He was alive. He had to be. She would know if he’d been killed, wouldn’t she? All Amoveo felt the loss instantly upon the death of their mate, and he
was
her mate—human or not—she would know if he had died. Her throat tightened, but she resisted the urge to cry. Tears weren’t going to help her or their babies.

“Focus, Marianna,” she whispered to the empty room.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she concentrated on creating a mental link with Pete but was met with that same impenetrable wall. Repeatedly, she sent her energy in search of his, but each time there was no answer… she was alone.

The tears fell freely now as she looked around the sterile room that reminded her of a psychiatric hospital. She laughed through her tears at the irony of it all because if she didn’t get out of here soon—she’d fit right in at a loony bin. Hopelessness reared its ugly head, threatening what was left of her resolve.

The sound of the door clicking open captured her attention and sent her heart into overdrive.

She fully expected Artimus, Hayden, or the doctor to come through the door, but much to her relief, it was none of them. A young woman of perhaps twenty came into the room bearing a tray of food and a timid smile.

Marianna watched her carefully as she placed the tray on the table and sat in the chair next to her. Her pale blond hair was swept back in a low ponytail, and her petite frame was hidden beneath baggy, blue hospital scrubs. She looked at Marianna through sympathetic green eyes that seemed oddly familiar.

“My name is Savannah,” she said in a sweet, melodic voice. “I’m your daytime caretaker and will be tending to your needs. Now, I could feed you, but I’m sure you’d rather feed yourself.”

She peeled back the plastic wrap from the glass of juice and the tray of bacon and eggs.

“So it’s daytime?” Marianna asked in a froggy voice. “It’s hard to tell with the view from here, and yes, I’ve been feeding myself for years.”

“I’m sure,” Savannah replied with a hint of a smile. “You’ve been here for about twenty-four hours, but the medication they gave you lasted longer than anticipated. We think it’s because of your pregnancy, but not to worry, the fetuses are handling it fine. You’re only a few weeks pregnant, but they seem healthy.”

Reading the confusion on Marianna’s face, she continued.

“We did a sonogram while you were sedated to check on the status of the twins. We also ran a few other tests on your vitals and drew some blood. Other than the pregnancy, you’re a perfectly healthy pure-blood.”

“Who knows what that injection did to my twins,” Marianna seethed.

“I can assure you the fetuses are fine. We developed a sedation serum that would have minimal impact on them.” She placed her delicate hands in her lap and cocked her head. “Can I remove these restraints so that you can eat, or are you going to start trouble and make me use the Taser in my pocket?” She patted the lump in the pocket of her scrubs.

Marianna weighed her options. She could try to escape, but the truth was that she had no idea where she was, and she was in a completely weakened state. She needed more information before she tried another getaway, and besides, getting Tasered didn’t sound appealing.

She nodded and prayed for the strength to hold it together.

Savannah unlocked her wrist restraints with the keys dangling from the cord around her wrist and removed the ankle shackles before helping her to a sitting position. Dizziness and nausea came in another stomach-tumbling wave, but a few deep breaths helped it subside.

“Here.” She handed her the orange juice. “I’m sure your blood sugar is low, but this should help.”

Marianna accepted it with shaking hands and drank the sweet, cold liquid greedily before handing the empty glass to Savannah.

“I guess you were thirsty?” Savannah laughed and handed her the plate. “I’m sure you’re equally hungry.”

Marianna accepted it and tried not to be quite as much of a glutton as she’d been with the juice, but didn’t have much luck. She was starving and ate the food like her life and the lives of her twins depended on it. Savannah said nothing, but watched her through serious green eyes.

“Thank you.” Marianna passed her the empty plate. “Can I ask you a question, Savannah?”

“Of course.”

“You seem nice and nothing like the Purists that I’ve had the misfortune to know.” Marianna brought her feet up on the bed, sat cross-legged, and leaned back against the wall for support, but she kept her gaze fixed on Savannah.

“Is there a question coming?” She looked away and made herself busy cleaning the tray.

“Why are you participating?” She leaned both elbows on her knees, watching Savannah’s body language and struggling to read her muted energy signature. “How can you be complicit in the violation of our laws and the atrocities they’re committing against innocent people?”

“We have to do this,” Savannah whispered as she picked up the tray and turned toward the door. Her energy signature fired in nervous pulses. She placed her hand on the black panel, and the door opened with a muffled click. “There is no choice. Our—our race depends on it.”

“Really?” Marianna picked up one of the restraints and fiddled with it. “Do I look like a volunteer?”

“It’s for the greater good.” The uneasiness in her signature grew stronger, and she avoided looking Marianna in the eye as she headed out.

“If it’s such a noble cause, then why aren’t you getting knocked up? Or that chick I saw in Dr. Moravian’s waiting room? You’re both pure-bloods.” She narrowed her eyes and stared her down. “Why aren’t you offering your uterus?”

“We aren’t part of the initial trials.” Savannah’s hands trembled as she tidied the tray and avoided her gaze. “Once all the… kinks have been worked out, then we’ll be the first ones in line.”

“Kinks?” Bile rose in Marianna’s throat.

“Sometimes there must be sacrifice before success.”

Savannah repeated the phrase as only a good servant would, but she lacked conviction. Those were words that Moravian and Artimus had probably spewed out, and this young woman was merely repeating them—but she didn’t say it like she meant it.

“You don’t believe that.” Marianna attempted to rise from the bed, but dizziness washed over her again. “I can tell—you lack the conviction of the others—please help me,” she said as she crumpled weakly onto the bed. “I know that I’m not the only one held here against my will. I think one of my friends is here too. Courtney Bishop, she’s a member of the Coyote Clan, and her family is worried sick.” She looked at her pleadingly and whispered, “You have to help us.”

Savannah stood in the open door. Her sympathetic green eyes flicked to Marianna’s, and she opened her mouth to say something, but snapped it shut abruptly.

“How is our newest resident doing this morning?” Dr. Moravian’s overly cheerful voice filled the room just before he appeared in the doorway behind Savannah. He frowned when he saw that she was free of her restraints. “Why is she not in her restraints?”

“She’s far too weak to cause any trouble.” Savannah tore her eyes from Marianna, and her energy signature immediately hardened. “The patient ate her breakfast without incident. Although I’m quite sure that having my Taser handy helped keep her in line.”

“Yes, it would seem that it did,” he murmured and kissed the top of Savannah’s head with a chuckle. “Leave it to you to think outside the box. See to it that the rest of the caretakers are issued Tasers. Perhaps it will discourage other troublemakers.”

Marianna watched the affection that the doctor so freely displayed with curiosity. She looked at the two side by side, and slowly but surely, the pieces came together. Dr. Moravian kissed her on the head again and disappeared from the doorway.

“I’ll be sure to take care of it… Father,” Savannah said, without taking her eyes off Marianna.

The sound of the door closing echoed through the room and drowned the pounding of Marianna’s heart. Savannah’s green eyes, tinged with sadness, peered through the small window before vanishing from sight. For the first time since this nightmare started, Marianna felt truly hopeful because she had a strong suspicion that the doctor’s daughter was no Purist.

Chapter 13

“What the fuck did you just say?”

The words rushed from Pete’s lungs as he blinked the sweat from his eyes that was blurring his vision. Tightening his grip on the gun, he struggled to register what this guy said. His father? This red-eyed guy in the middle of his cabin, who appeared out of nowhere, is claiming to be his father?

He couldn’t help but think of what Olivia had said about suspecting he was part demon or part warlock. It was beginning to look like the vampire was right. Crap.

“I said, is that any way to speak to your father?” His eyes glowed bright red, and the smile on his lips grew.

“Really?” Pete cocked the gun and focused his aim. “Then I should shoot your ass on principle alone for being a deadbeat.”

“I don’t think so.” The intruder extended one muscular arm, with his palm facing Pete, and within seconds the gun in Pete’s hands went from cold steel to burning hot. Pete swore as it fell from his hands. The man flicked his wrist, and the gun flew across the room. “We don’t have time to play the pissed-off-son game.”

He calmly turned his attention back to Pete. His irises glowed brighter before flickering back to human blue eyes—eyes just like his. Dressed in all black, he reminded Pete of a commando, and the sheer size of him would intimidate most people.

But Pete wasn’t most people. He held his ground and kept his eyes on the man. He knew enough to know that his smartest move right now was to watch and wait.

“Tramp, as you call him, is back home and just fine. He’s a hellhound, one of many that I’ve sent to watch over you.” He dropped his hands to his side and bowed his head. “I am Asmodeus, but your mother knew me as Aaron.”

“Wonderful.” Pete’s jaw clenched. “She’s dead, so I’m afraid a reunion is out of the question.”

“I know.” Asmodeus’s eyes softened briefly.

“Well,
Daddy,
it would seem that you’ve got a lot more information than me, so how about you start sharing? You say that you’re my father? But you’re obviously not a regular guy, and as you already established, you’re not Amoveo or vampire. So why don’t you tell me what you are?”

Pete looked at him expectantly, put his hands on his hips, and waited.

“Interesting.” Asmodeus narrowed his eyes and studied Pete closely. “I didn’t expect you to be quite so cavalier.”

“Yeah,” Pete scoffed. “Well, nothing surprises me anymore.”

“You’re half demon,” he said flatly.

Pete didn’t flinch. His stomach dropped to his feet, but he would be damned if he’d show one ounce of fear or surprise in front of this guy or Daniella. He kept his eyes on Asmodeus and waved him on, trying to act like he was more bored than anything else. “And?”

“I am what humans know as a demon—more specifically, I am one of the seven princes of Hell. Each is in charge of one of the seven deadly sins.” He cast a grin at Daniella. “Mine is lust.”

“Great,” Pete snorted with derision. “So my father is a horny devil.”

“And hot.” Daniella sighed.

“Pipe down.” Pete flicked his gaze to her briefly, but she was staring at his father like some moony-eyed teenager.

“I do enjoy coming to earth.” Asmodeus’s rich, deep laughter filled the cabin as he sat on the edge of the table and folded his arms over his chest. He turned his sharp blue eyes back to Pete. “I met your mother on my last visit, but your conception was most… unexpected.”

“I bet it was.” Pete inched closer to the fireplace and shifted his body, so he was within reach of the fireplace tools. He ran his fingers over the cool iron, and that alone made him feel safer. “So, what? Do you come to earth and knock up unsuspecting women on a regular basis?”

“No.” The smile faded, and face grew serious. “We are permitted a visit to earth once every hundred years for three months. My being here now is not exactly a sanctioned visit. We live as a mortal and experience all of the sins, with particular focus on our own, but it is extremely rare for us to create offspring.”

“I see,” Pete ground out. “So you fucked your way through the world and happened to knock up my mother? So what does that make me?”

“I met your mother on the first day of my last excursion.” His lips tilted. “She was pure joy and had a laugh that could cut through even the toughest of men. I think I fell in love with her before I even saw her. It was that beautiful laugh which captivated me and brought me to her.” His eyes flickered red again. “I didn’t
fuck
my way around earth—at least not that time. I was utterly besotted by her.”

“Bullshit,” Pete spat. “If you were so crazy in love, then why would you leave her and break her heart?” His voice rose with years of pent up frustration. “That woman you’re describing? I never knew her. I only knew the sad, broken woman that you left behind.”

“I had no choice.” Asmodeus’s eyes glowed brighter as he rose from the table and stalked slowly toward Pete. “I had to leave once your mother found out what I was. I was willing to give up my position and live as a mortal, but she refused me. She forbade me from being a part of your life, so if you want to blame someone for not having a father, you can start with her.”

“Go to hell!” Pete screamed.

He grabbed the fireplace poker and swung it at Asmodeus’s head, but he wasn’t fast enough. Asmodeus grabbed the poker with one hand, Pete’s throat by the other, and pinned him against the wall with unnatural strength.

“I do not wish to fight with you,” he seethed. His bright red eyes glowed at Pete with a combination of anger and frustration. “I came here to help you, and I am breaking all kinds of rules in the process. If my meddling is discovered, I’ll end up having to work as a Peace Keeper here on earth, and I have no desire to do that.”

He tossed the poker across the room and loosened his grip on Pete’s throat. Pete sucked in a gulp of air and wrestled with the reality of the situation facing him. Looking into his red eyes, he knew that if this man wanted to kill him, he’d be dead already. The only other option was that he was telling the truth and really was here to help.

“You say that you want to help me,” Pete bit out. He shoved at Asmodeus, who stepped back and released Pete from his grasp. Pete rubbed his neck, but kept his eyes on his father. “It would’ve been nice if you’d showed up
before
they took Marianna.”

“Yes.” He sighed and stepped back, giving Pete the distance he hoped for. “There was no way around that. We are not supposed to get involved in the business of other supernatural races, only humans.”

“So you’re the devil?” Pete asked warily as he leaned against the wall.

“No. I am a demon. There is no
one
devil, and we are not the purely evil creatures of your human lore.” He grinned at Pete’s obvious confusion and lifted one shoulder. “We’re really just a bunch of troublemakers, and besides, the angels would be out of business if we weren’t around.”

“I know I’m new to the whole demon thing, but it sounds like you’re oversimplifying.” Pete leaned on his knees and let out a long, slow breath. “So I’m part demon. I guess that explains the psychic-shielding or whatever. Is there anything in this demon gig that will help me get Marianna back?”

“Yes,” Asmodeus murmured. “That’s why I’m here.” He went to Daniella, who was still lying on the couch, but looked as though she were about to pass out. “However, we need to take care of this first. This shifter is going to expire if we don’t stop the bleeding, and it’s my understanding that you’ll need her alive.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to get involved. Wouldn’t that be breaking the rules?”

“Well, I
am
a demon.”

Before Pete could say another word, Asmodeus knelt and placed one enormous hand over each wound.

“What are you doing?”

Pete moved toward them, but stopped short as a humming sound filled the room. It was muted at first, but soon it grew louder as a bright, orange glow emanated beneath Asmodeus’s hands. Thick, dense heat filled the room, causing Pete to sweat, and within minutes the place was like a steam sauna.

The glowing flashed, and the humming pulsed and throbbed, like a heartbeat tumbling through the cabin. Daniella screamed in agony and writhed beneath his touch, but Asmodeus remained resolute. Pete was about to pull him off her because if she died, he’d never find Marianna, but seconds later, everything stopped.

“What the hell did you do?” Pete stood at the end of the couch looking at Daniella, hoping like hell she was still alive. To his relief, her chest moved with the steady breathing of sleep, and he watched as Asmodeus removed the makeshift tourniquets from her arm and leg.

“I cauterized the wounds and stopped the bleeding.” He stood and tossed the bloodied scarves on the coffee table before turning his familiar blue eyes back to Pete. “She should be seen by an Amoveo healer, but she’s stable for now.”

Asmodeus removed the silver ring on his left hand and held it out for Pete.

“No thanks.” Pete didn’t move but looked at it warily. “I’m not a big jewelry guy.”

“It’s not a fashion statement.” Asmodeus held it out again, and his eyes flickered red. “It will harness your natural abilities and allow you to tap into powers you’ve only begun to discover.”

Pete folded his arms over his chest and met Asmodeus’s gaze. “I don’t have any powers.”

“Yes.” He sighed. “You do. Your hunches, as you like to refer to them, are rooted in your natural psychic abilities.”

“How do you know about that?” Pete asked with suspicion.

“I told you. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Also, Tramp and the other hellhounds I’ve sent over the years were quite helpful in giving me updates.”

Pete glanced at the ring. The silver glinted as he weighed his options. The cold, hard truth was that as far as options were concerned, he didn’t have a whole lot, and maybe this would give him a fighting chance at getting Marianna back.

The reality was that he would do anything—
be
anything
—if it meant getting her back and keeping her safe.

He’d even make a deal with the devil himself.

“This is the only thing that I can offer you.” Asmodeus’s deep voice softened. “Please take it. If you insist on battling with the Amoveo, then you are going to need every ounce of power you possess.”

Pete swore under his breath, took the ring from Asmodeus, and glanced at him briefly as he inspected it. “What kind of stone is this?”

“Obsidian.”

“Obsidian?” Pete smirked and peered at him. “Doesn’t that come from volcanos?”

“Yes, it’s from the heart of the earth—the underworld—which is where the root of our power is.”

“So what?” Pete asked, only half-joking, as he slipped it onto the ring finger of his right hand. “Is this thing going to shoot fire or something?”

It was like a kick in the gut. White light flashed into his mind, and everything started spinning as the air was sucked out of the room like a vacuum. Pete fell to his knees, gasping and straining to get his bearings. Asmodeus tried to help him up, but Pete pushed him away and braced himself on the edge of the coffee table.

“I’m fine,” Pete wheezed. “I just need a minute. Jesus Christ, is this ring going to make me feel like that every time I put it on?”

“Jesus had nothing to do with this,” Asmodeus said wryly. “The stone in the ring will help you channel latent abilities you may have. If you ditch the ring, then eventually, powers you develop will fade to what they were before.” Asmodeus’s lips curled upward. “In theory.”

“Is there anything that you are
sure
of?” Heat flashed over Pete’s body, and suddenly, the room felt about twenty degrees warmer. Was he doing that? Pete sucked in a slow breath and willed himself to keep his temper in check. “As much as this little reunion is warming my heart, I have to get this bitch back to the Amoveo, so we can find out where they’ve taken Marianna.”

“You should be able to use telepathy freely, but I’m not certain about the telekinesis or the ability to manipulate heat.” He shrugged casually and glanced around the room. “I suppose you’ll have to see how it all shakes out. I have to be on my way, but Tramp will be here in my stead.”

“Fucking wonderful.” Pete shook his head and rubbed his eyes with both hands. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

Instead of the deep baritone of Asmodeus, he was greeted with the sharp yelp of a dog. Pete snapped his eyes open to find that Asmodeus was gone, Daniella was still passed out on the couch, and Tramp was sitting at his feet, happily wagging his tail.

“What the hell?” Pete squatted and ran his hands over Tramp’s totally healed body. There was no sign of the injuries he’d suffered earlier, not even any blood in his fur. The husky was clean and seemed strong as an ox. “Unbelievable,” he murmured through a smile. “I’m glad to see you’re okay, buddy.”

Tramp yipped and licked his face enthusiastically before sitting obediently at Pete’s feet. Pete glanced at the ring on his finger and spun it around with his thumb as he went to the couch and picked up Daniella’s limp body with ease. He stilled and noted how much lighter she seemed than she had a little while ago. Looking at her pallid complexion and then down at Tramp, he said, “I guess it’s about time to try that telepathy.”

Tramp barked his agreement and took his place next to Pete.

“I wonder how Dante will feel about having a demon in the family?”

***

Pete stood in the lavish living room of the prince’s Montana home and stared out the window at the snow-covered ranch, relishing a few moments alone. He’d forgotten how unnerving it was to be surrounded by Amoveo. Malcolm and William had arrived with their hybrid mates and were getting brought up to speed by Kerry and Dante. Richard’s healers were tending to Daniella, who had been passed out for hours. Pete was going crazy with worry over Marianna. He glanced at the mahogany staircase and resisted the urge to run up there and shake the truth out of Daniella.

How had everything gotten so fucked up? He had failed. He failed Marianna and didn’t keep his promise. How could she, or would she ever, trust him again?

He’d promised her that the Purists wouldn’t touch her, but they sure as hell did. They kidnapped her right in front of him, and he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.

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