Prince of Demons 3: The Order of the Black Swan Read Free Page B

a little like having a blind person describe how to get to a place where they’d once been when they were still sighted. Though it took much longer than Lana would have liked, Litha was eventually able to deliver both Brave and Lana, separately, to the cabin. Fortune had been with them. Brave’s captors had not discovered that he’d been freed from his chains. So Brave was spirited away from his prison, though the irony that he’d built that very dungeon as a prop had not been lost on him. He’d thought about it countless times during the long hours and days that he’d hung from manacles that cut into his skin while, without sustenance, his body succumbed to weakness.
    Once Litha persuaded Deliverance to give up more of his “magic juice”, it wasn’t that hard to draft him into service to help retrieve half of the couple in need of rescuing.
    While Litha administered doses to Lana and Brave, she gave instructions to Deliverance. “You take him. He can’t even stand up and will more or less need to be carried.”
    Deliverance looked at Brave then eyed Lana and smiled his wolfish smile. “I’ll take her.”
    “No you will not!”
    He pouted. “I’m hungry.”
    “You can wait for ten minutes. Okay? That’s all this will take. Just leave him in the clinic and I’ll do the rest.”
    “Scotia Fae. Hmmm. Yes. Just what I’m in the mood for.”
    The process of transporting Brave and Lana to the clinic at The Order’s headquarters in Edinburgh took a fraction of the time because the demons knew where they were going.
    Deliverance dumped Brave on a gurney and turned to leave, but Litha put a hand on his forearm before he vanished. “Dad. Thank you. I know I ask a lot and don’t say it often enough.”
    The demon’s features softened. He pulled her into a big hug, growled, touched the tip of her nose, kissed her on the cheek and gave her the sort of breathtaking smile that the Creators had reserved for incubi alone. Then he was gone.
    The staff started an intravenous feed to get Brave rehydrated as quickly as possible. When Lana refused to go further away from Brave than the hallway outside his room, Litha brought the mountain, or rather the Director, to her.
    After Lana told Simon Tvelgar the entire story leaning against the wall where she could see the door to Brave’s hospital room, he pursed his lips and scowled. As the story progressed and it became clear to Litha that Atalanta Ravin had not exactly been forthcoming with their employer, she said nothing but gave Lana sideways looks that were increasingly curious, if not reproachful.
    “Is that all?” Simon crossed his arms in front of him. He may have been retired from active knighthood for a couple of decades, but he was still an imposing figure, capable of being intimidating even when he didn’t mean to be.
    Lana glanced at Litha. Perhaps subconsciously she was trying to discern whether or not she could expect support. Litha’s features were completely unreadable.
    Simon looked at Litha. “You didn’t ask for clearance to become involved in this situation, Mrs. Storm.”
    Litha’s gaze slid to Simon smoothly and she replied in an even tone. “I’m not on a leash, Simon. On my own time I do what I want.”
    “Poppycock!” The word was sharp, but his tone wasn’t. “You do what you want when you are ‘on the clock’.” He turned to Lana. “Young lady…”
    “Oh this can’t be good,” she looked at the floor and muttered.
    “What’s that?”
    When Lana looked up to see that Simon had narrowed his eyes, she remembered what she had told some of her peers at a bachelorette weekend a few years earlier. Seven of Lana’s college friends had rented a large beach house at Galveston for a “hen party” to celebrate the last time they would all be single. They were sitting around a fire pit snuggled in hoodies, mittens and blankets. The sound of the ocean was too loud for whispers. So they had to say what they meant, mean what they said, and