Four Psychos

 Chapter 16

I never realized the perks to seeing but not being seen until the quad hell squad, as they called themselves, failed to live up to my very dreamy and super high expectations.

Lamar, however, is excellent company.

We like chilling in companionable silence.

Of course, he has no idea we’re chilling at all.

Since seeing Manella, he hasn’t been shouting for someone to hear about his i

Who happens to be a child of the devil.

The devil’s son has a more devoted lover than I’ve ever even dreamed of having.

Regardless of their lineage, I’m a sucker for a good romance, and I’m determined to make sure this one stays put together. Love like this doesn’t deserve to be sabotaged.

“Any chance you could tell me how to fall in love? I mean, you chose the devil’s son and still have more love than anyone else I’ve ever come across. Clearly you know what you’re doing,” I go on, striking up a one-sided conversation.

Lamar glances around, going on alert suddenly. I almost think he’s heard me when he stands up and pales a little.

Without any warning, three men are suddenly in the room with us, and my breath leaves in a rush. Lamar straightens, staring at them with his wrists bound by cuffs like he’s prepared to die with dignity.

The first one lunges, and my heart hits my chest as I dive in front of him. I’m not sure what exactly flies out of me, but all three men are blown into the cell wall so hard that it thunders with a metallic echo around us.

I stagger back, taking a major hit from that surge.

Lamar’s eyes widen, but I barely glimpse him as the first leather-mask-wearing ghoul charges again.

“Un bracco!” I shout, and Lamar’s cuffs fall away just in time for him to slam his fist through the heart of the man.

His power pulses with an eerie, ominous warning before a dark smile graces his lips. Gone is the man who was willing to accept death. This version of Lamar seems more fitting for an occupant of hell.

“Releasing me might give you honor in death, but it will definitely assure your death,” Lamar tells them, not realizing it wasn’t them.

I dive out of the way on instinct as a burst of energy booms from him, and three screams of agony tear through the air.

Well, then. I guess he doesn’t really need my help. He just needed those cuffs off.

One of the guards manages to disappear in time to save his own life, but the other two are basically roasted, unable to get out.

I take a seat and watch the show.

I’m telling you, I’m going to eat the hell out of some popcorn one day.

As soon as there’s nothing left but the dying echo of their screams and some ashes, Lamar reaches down and lifts his cuffs, breaking them with little effort. The crumpled heap is dropped near the door, and he takes a seat, sitting a little higher.

I get the feeling he left one alive for a reason.

I pat his shoulder, as though he can actually feel it, and he goes utterly stiff before looking directly through me. Did he feel that?

His eyes don’t meet mine, since they’re shifting back and forth in my direction like he’s searching for something, meaning he can’t see me.

Deciding to test my theory, I reach down and pat his hand. He jerks his hand aside, and growls. “What’s in here? Show yourself, demon.”

Demon? I think not. I’ve heard about demons.

After a few minutes of me keeping my hands to myself, I pull my knees to my chest. Not even he likes help from the unknown. I’m the reason he’s alive, and whether he knows it or not, he’s just like the hell squad.

In the devil’s league, no one trusts anyone.

I guess I shouldn’t take it personally.