Chapter 55 - Veridan

Veridan stood and dusted himself off. Who knew he had such a talent for acting?

He smirked.

The arrogant Keeper lay at Danata’s feet, unconscious, or hopefully dead. The fool thought his magic had knocked Veridan out, but he’d erected a shield around himself the moment Greg burst into the room. The plan had worked beautifully.

Danata turned and faced Veridan, an exuberant, crazed look in her violet eyes. She threw her head back and laughed, her throat working with each horrendous cackle. Veridan’s eye twitched. He looked away to hide his disdain.

“Sam, Sam! Wake up!”

The boy, Jacob, was shaking Samantha. Her head lolled from side to side as he did so.

Veridan pushed past Danata and walked back into the kitchen. Jacob scuttled away from the girl, retreating on all fours like a bug. His face was red and lined with dry and fresh tears. The fear in his eyes was as primal as anything Veridan had ever seen. It also made his eye twitch.

“Go!” Veridan impatiently flicked a hand toward the boy.

Jacob’s gaze turned to Sam, then his father. “Y-you’ll pay . . . you’ll pay for this,” he said, moving backwards toward the double doors. The look in his eyes, as he finally slipped out, had little fear left in it and was, instead, a thing of hatred and lust for revenge.

Maybe I’ll come to regret letting you live. But it would be a long time before the boy would morph and turn into any kind of creditable enemy.

Veridan pushed the poor devil out of his thoughts and faced Danata. Her state of rapture had nearly passed and she was now regarding her victims with detached pleasure.

She moved away from Greg and took a few steps toward the girl. Danata’s knee-high leather boots tapped against the cheap flooring. She was dressed like she was at a fun afternoon of Polo, practical and comfortable for the job at hand.

“Is she dead?” Danata nudged Samantha’s arm with the tip of her boot. There was reluctant regret in her tone, a paradoxical combination.

Veridan took a knee next the girl and pressed two fingers to her throat. He frowned. “No, she’s alive.”

“Excellent! What about the Keeper?”

Veridan approached Greg warily.

“Oh, he’s not dangerous anymore, even if he’s alive,” Danata laughed. “Severed from the girl he’s a Keeper no more.” She snickered like a naughty girl who had gotten her way.

“Still alive, too.” Veridan pulled away from Greg. His heartbeat was as accelerated as the girl’s had been. Normally after the Ripping, the victims’ heart rate was barely discernible. Odd.

“Just as well, I suppose. We can use him as leverage, if she refuses to do as I say.” Danata brought her hands together in delight. “This was a marvelous plan, my dear. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“We should leave, transport them out of here before they wake up.” Veridan pulled two small vials of potion out of his breast pocket and, prying Samantha and Greg’s mouths open, poured their contents in.

When that was done, he slipped his hands under the girl’s arms and started dragging her toward Greg. He was halfway there when a commotion sounded outside the double doors. He looked up and exchanged a glance with Danata.

“Through there, please hurry,” someone urged.

Astute as always, Danata rushed to Veridan’s side and clutched his arm, just as Portos, Bernard and Roanna herself burst into the kitchen.

The sisters’ gazes locked. They hadn’t seen each other in years, and the weight of the time and ill blood between them was like a discharge of electricity in the air.

Veridan snatched his pendant and uttered his transport incantation in one quick breath. Portos had time to do nothing except watch Veridan’s satisfied smile as they disappeared, leaving only the unconscious Greg behind.

It was a shame they couldn’t take him, too—Veridan had a score to settle with the brat—but he couldn’t complain. One couldn’t demand perfection every single time.