Billy closed his eyes, damning Gabriel again. “I’m sorry you went through that.”
“McPhee…Charlie…he saved me.”
“He knew I’d have his balls if he didn’t keep an eye on you.”
She snorted, and then winced. “He said just about the same thing.”
“He’s good people, even if he is a little crazy.”
“I don’t think he’s crazy at all,” she whispered. “He said there’s demons in these boys, and I believe him.”
Chapter 7
Gabriel sat on the edge of his cot, staring out of his darkened cell at the control booth on the far side of the barracks. Billy and the woman were together, Billy likely trying to offer her comfort while rage built inside him at what had passed.
He’d screwed up. Billy had every right to be furious. For choosing Gillian as his target in the first place, and then scaring the hell out of her for nothing.
Knowing there wasn’t anything he could do to ease the situation now, he turned his thoughts toward the demon he’d been trying to impress. Although The Wizard hadn’t had front row seats to his little play, word had spread like wildfire across a parched field throughout the barracks, cell to cell. Ames had been dragged out, shouting that he hadn’t meant it, would never have hurt an officer and especially a woman, and that he didn’t know where the damn shank had come from.
But Means would know. He’d shown him what he could do, how he could manipulate minds. He was an incubus after all.
And he needed to feed again—on strong emotions. However, he wasn’t sure whether his old buddy would be amenable to sharing again, not after what he’d done. And Gabriel wasn’t sure he had the heart to invade Gillian’s dreams again. Maybe he’d have to look elsewhere, somewhere closer, however much the thought made his stomach turn.
A loud, low hum interrupted his musing. It sounded like the low-pitched thrum of electricity along a hundred power lines. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted, his heart thudded dully against his chest. He guessed the wait was over. Tonight, he’d learn what the demon in the cellblock had planned.
Locks popped up and down the tier. Voices began to murmur, growing louder, as prisoners realized they’d been released from their cells.
Gabriel shot a glance to the control booth in time to see Billy leaning toward his mike and Gillian rising swiftly from her seat, her eyes widening as inmates flooded the barracks stairways in a quick, steady stream.
Two officers who’d been walking the tiers were running, but were quickly overcome, backed up to the rails, their own handcuffs quickly restraining them.
At the center of the barracks floor stood The Wizard his arms raised, fists clenched. He’d just taken over the housing unit. Whether he intended a siege or a mass escape wasn’t at all clear.
One thing Gabriel knew, more blood would be spilled before the night was over.
* * *
Gillian sat cross-legged on hard concrete, her arms beginning to ache, her wrists tender with the bruises inflicted by the inmate who’d cuffed her.
Billy sat down the row of officers the prisoners had captured, his gaze aimed straight ahead. He hadn’t once looked her way. She understood he didn’t want to tip them off that they had a relationship, or the knowledge might be used against them.
As it was, things weren’t looking good.
She’d no sooner muttered about demons to Billy, and her worst nightmares had been confirmed. When the locks on the cells along all three tiers popped at the same time, she’d stared incredulously at the lights glowing all along her console. Billy had tried his mike, but whatever that low hum was had scrambled communications coming in and out of the barracks. The phones hadn’t worked either.
Which meant they didn’t know if this break was isolated to their housing unit or prison-wide, and whether anyone outside the unit was aware they were in deep shit.
How deep she didn’t understand until the one who seemed to be in charge, the one they called “The Wizard” began to paint a large symbol in blood that prisoners seemed eager to open a vein to provide.
Three prisoners had passed out already, their bodies turning blue, another knelt in front of Means, offering his wrist. This time Gillian didn’t even flinch when The Wizard bit deep and shook his head, blood spraying in a w
ide arc. When he lifted his head, he dropped the man’s hand into a bucket and turned toward the row of corrections officers, a wide, inhuman grin splitting his face.
He stepped in front of Gillian and leaned over her, dragging in a deep breath through flaring nostrils. “Fear…my favorite perfume,” he murmured. Then he reached for her, grabbing her by the hair, and dragged her in front of the line.
Her panicked gaze caught Billy’s for a second before she forced it away.
The Wizard let go of her hair and lifted a foot, jamming it against her chest and forcing her on her back. Then he set both feet on opposite sides of her hips and sat down, squatting on her body. “Are you afraid?” he said, in an eerie, gloating tone.