Page 4 of Speak No Evil

“I didn’t do this.” My voice trembles, and I don’t care. “But I’m gonna make sure our city stays exactly where it should.”

I gaze up at the three demon lords.

Thorne stares back, concern pinching his brows.

Ryker’s gaze stays glued to his toes.

And Vrahs looks down at me with disgust. Don’t really blame him.

I can’t believe I let myself get so out of control that fear crept in and took my will. Kept me from breathing. Fear, which I’m excellent at keeping squashed behind the sharp edges of my personality.

Well, fuck that shit. I’m not in the habit of letting fear win any rounds. Especially not when I’m under the scrutiny of three judgy-ass demon lords.

From this moment on, I’m keeping my shit together.

After a few more slow, deep breaths, I close my eyes anddosomething instead of cowering.

If only to prove to Vrahs that I didn’t do this. And possibly to myself that I’m not some puppy experiencing his first storm, shaking under the table.

I tap into the sight that lets me see things I shouldn’t. Until now, I’ve only used it to examine what’s right in front of me, like the last murder victim and the mayor’s weird... whatever. But that didn’t mean this wouldn’t work.

Right?

I imagine myself pinching-to-zoom-out on the image of the four of us.

Out of the kitchen. Out of this floor, this apse, the basilica entirely until I see the building from a bird’s-eye view.

What’s there makes me stumble back. I barely register a pair of hands on my arms, steadying me.

Deadly, shimmering sigils and blood-sealed spells twist over and through every stone of the building. Like a macabre network of blackened and thorned veins, they touch every room, every hall, everything.

At first, I chalk it up to the lords’ ever-present ego.

Keeping themselves and their house the safest of all of Blackwood.

But the longer I stare at the workings around the basilica, the more the picture unfolds.

“Oh fuck,” I murmur.

I see it.

And I know exactly what to do.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and form a portal exactly where I stand.

I can only imagine the roars I left in my wake. But I’m the only one with juice, and Iseeit. Just like with the ward on the last murder victim and whatever weird shit is going on with Jameson.

And not only do I see it.

IknowI can fix it.

ChapterTwo

VRAHS

My fists are balled so tight, warmth pools in my palms.

Blood.