Page 107 of Stolen Faith

“They’re demons and sinners, you’ll free them from their mortal flesh—”

Izabel had to tune TiffaniGrace out. The woman never shut up.

As the daughter of people in a nontraditional relationship, she had lived through her fair share of others informing her that her parents were perverts and would burn in hell, but TiffaniGrace was by far the worst. She made Izabel’s eye twitch.

“Sir, we’re at your command,” one of the black-clad men said to Devon.

To Devon. Not Jonah, not Barry—Devon.

“Thank you,” Devon said coolly. “Please secure those two. The one on the ground needs medical attention. Head injury, so please use a cervical collar.”

Barry’s eyes were open now and looked like they were going to pop. He made a strangled noise.

Two mercenaries stepped forward and released TiffaniGrace and Jonah from their tape restraints.

“What…what are you doing?” TiffaniGrace demanded, fighting with the guards cuffing her wrists together behind her back. “You obey us!”

“New orders. We’re off your job,” the mercenary leader said.

“Holy shit,” Brennon breathed. “The bad guys are on our side.”

“I thought we were the bad guys,” Izabel said. “Or are they the bad guys now that they’re helping us?”

Brennon shrugged. “Honestly, I’m losing track.”

“Someone powerful leaned on the company,” Rowan said. “Otherwise, switching sides like this…it would destroy a PMSC.”

“A what?” Izabel asked. “I thought you said PMC?”

“Private military and security company.” It was Brennon who answered. “I did rewrites for a war-games script.”

“PMC is a private military contractor,” Rowan reminded her.

“So the Grand Master managed to put pressure on the company’s owner?” Izabel asked.

Jonah sputtered as they forced him to sit cross-legged on the ground, hands behind his back. “You…you can’t!”

“Regretting your confessions?” Juliette asked him.

Jonah’s flushed face paled.

“Oh, this sounds good.” Brennon stood and helped Izabel up. Rowan started to rise, but Brennon shook his head. “Feet up.”

Rowan stayed in the chair and raised his feet. Brennon grabbed the back and wheeled Rowan around the desk, closer to the action. Izabel grinned. God, her future husbands were so fucking cute together.

Juliette pulled a cell phone out from under her wide sash, made from a chunk of Izabel’s dress. She tapped the screen several times, and then voices started to play from the phone’s surprisingly good speakers.

“He told me who the Trinity Masters were, what they could do. About the Grand Master and who he was.”

Jonah’s voice was clear.

The next sound on the recording was Rowan’s command to get down. It was faint but audible. There was some more noise, the sounds of them panicking after that first attack. Juliette skipped forward.

“My wife was a whore.” Jonah’s whisper was vicious on the recording. “I shot her, but the detective was a righteous man. He understood. She was leaving me to go live with the men she’d been fucking. She was going to flaunt her sin and sodomy.”

“You killed them too, didn’t you?”

“Not me personally.” He laughed. “They were known queers, bisexuals, or whatever new label they’d come up with to justify themselves. They called it a murder-suicide.”