(eng) L. C. Hibbett - Wicked Witch 01 by Wicked Destiny

Author:Wicked Destiny [Destiny, Wicked]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“You’re certain, Agent Blackwood? If you’re mistaken, there could be grave repercussions.” The voice drifting into the corridor from the case room was unfamiliar. I quickened my step and reached to pull the door open, but Izzy detached herself from the shadows and barred my way.

I crossed my arms and glared at the agent. “Teddy said that Snow woman wants to see Nick and me.”

“Destiny, is there anything you want to say?” Izzy’s hurried whisper made my gut cramp. She took a step closer and grabbed my elbows. “Did anything happen yesterday? Before Nick got to the parking lot?” She hesitated. “Did you make a deal with your father’s men?” I reared back in disgust but Izzy held me tight. “Please, Destiny, you can tell me. I’m on your side, I just want to help you before—”

The door creaked open behind Izzy’s back and she froze. The same voice I’d heard a moment before assaulted my eardrums. “Isabelle O’Neill, please escort the black witch inside. Immediately.” So that’s how it was going to be—the black witch. I clenched my teeth.

“Rude,” I muttered. Izzy shot me a pleading glare and a cold shiver ran over my skin. Izzy was the kind of woman who looked like she might eat hardened criminals for breakfast. If she was scared of this Snow asshole—well, it wasn’t a good sign.

Izzy loosened her grip reluctantly and gestured for me to follow her. She twisted on the threshold, just before she strode to stand with Blackwood, Teddy, and the doctor, Mac, and stared into my eyes. Her words were barely a whisper. “Just tell her the truth, Destiny, whatever that is. Please.”

I followed her into the room and saw the parents of the missing children were seated on the hard-backed plastic chairs and the agents were standing at the rear of the room. They all watched my entrance. The door swung open again as soon as I’d closed it, and Nick appeared by my side and tucked my hand firmly inside his. Despite myself, I didn’t pull away. Staring at the people holding court at the top of the room, I was going to need every ounce of support I could get.

“Agent Sarkus, approach.” The man who barked the order at Nick was one of seven men lining the front wall of the room. None of them were dressed in uniform, but everything about their stance and facial expressions screamed power and discipline. Although some had graying hair and all their faces showed the lines of age, their bodies looked fit and strong—the bodies of warriors. Nick kept his eyes on the men and lowered his chin respectfully, but he didn’t release my hand.

As we made our way between the rows of seated parents, I saw a body laid on the floor in front of the seven men. Long lean limbs, silky fair hair, my leather jacket draped over its chest—Patrick. A dark-haired woman kneeled beside his unconscious form and extended her hands over his skull. Her eyes were sealed and her lips moved soundlessly.

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