Chapter 374 – Betrayer

Roger

"My phone," Dominic murmurs as I examine his wounds. "Forget the phone," I mutter, shaking my head and leaning closer to a deep gash on his stomach. The sight makes me hiss in anxiety.

"Roger," Dominic snaps, and I frown. "The priest—he said the Master had Rafe. Check my phone—Ella will…" His head falls back; he's exhausted. I understand, though. I reach for his back pocket. He moans as I adjust him, but I retrieve the phone and my face pales at what I see.

"Shit," I murmur, scrolling through messages from our father's phone and then an unfamiliar number.

"What?" he asks.

"They don't have Rafe," I sigh, pocketing the phone. "The priest was wrong. The baby's still with Ella and Cora. But…" I sigh, and Dominic opens his eyes, urging me to continue. "They attacked the bunker when we left. The girls escaped through the passage—they had to leave Dad behind. And…Cora's hurt," I say, forcing the words out steadily. "They went to Hank's to get help."

Dominic's eyes widen. "Ella's gift?"

"Bound," I say, shaking my head. "I don't know how—"

"Doesn't matter," my brother murmurs. Then, to my shock, he sits up, almost screaming in pain.

"Dominic!" I shout, placing my hands on his shoulders. He pushes me away, so I step back.

"We have to get to them," he pants, holding my gaze. "We can't—we can't trust Hank…"

I hold his gaze and shake my head. "Let me go, Dominic," I say. "You're in…," I hesitate, but the blood pouring from his wounds confirms my thoughts. "You're in bad shape."

He glares at me. I sigh, knowing it's futile.

"Fine," I shrug, sliding my arm under his shoulder to help him up. "But if you collapse on the way, don't blame me."

Dominic mutters something as we struggle to his feet. I ignore him, noticing Conor approaching.

"Nothing, sir," Conor reports, looking anxiously at my brother. "No one else here. If Xander was here, he's gone now. What can I—"

"Nothing," I snap. Then I reconsider. "Actually—get the cars ready. We need transport, now. Take all the men—injured and healthy—back to the bunker. They were attacked while we were gone; they'll need reinforcements. Dominic and I…"

"The Lunas," Conor says, saluting. "I understand."

Conor turns and starts giving orders. "That one needs a promotion," I murmur to my brother.

"Later," Dominic sighs, his eyes on the stairs. "Right now, let's figure out how the hell we're getting me out of this house."

Ella

My eyes dart to Hank, widening immediately. Henry's warnings echo in my mind: We can't trust Hank. He's gotten too close too quickly. He's ambitious and eager, suspiciously quick to gain our trust.

And today—why was he asking so much about my gift? Did he really want to help Cora and her baby? Or was there something else…?

"Don't!" I gasp, gesturing to the Priestess, Rafe crying loudly in one arm, while she holds an empty jug of holy water in the other. "Don't give him the baby!"

Hank turns, shocked. "What?"

"Don't do it!" I say, ignoring him, my eyes fixed on the Priestess. "Don't trust him—please! Just—"

Rafe screams—a scream beyond a baby's normal cries. A desperate, terrified scream—

As if Rafe senses something is wrong—

My face drains of color as I shift my gaze from my baby to the Priestess. A vicious sneer twists her face as she brings the free hand down, smashing the jug against Hank's skull.

Hank cries out and falls, clutching his head.

I leap to my feet, heading for the Priestess, but she whirls, throwing out a hand and growling unintelligible words.

The surrounding water instantly freezes.

I scream, the ice burning my skin, pinning me to the floor. I struggle, but it re-freezes, holding me fast. The Priestess laughs darkly.

"No!" I scream, trying to reach for my baby, but my arms are immobile. Hank groans, trying to get up—

The Priestess kicks him in the ribs, then, to my horror, in the head. He goes limp.

"Thank you," the Priestess says, turning back to me with a cruel smile. "For making this so easy. For leading me to you. For telling me precisely where you were. The Master will be…quite pleased. I completed the job even after you escaped his first two traps."

I scream, begging her to release me, offering anything she wants.

She ignores me. She raises a hand, snaps her fingers. Her robes shift from dove gray to a dark, turbulent gray. She's one of them.

"So good to be back in my true form," she murmurs, shaking herself. She smirks. "And so good to finally be rid of those goody-goody worshippers of your idiot mother."

She leans close, my baby screaming in her arms. "So good to serve a real God. He will reward me for bringing the Master his son. The Master," she whispers, barely audible over Rafe's screams, "always gets what he wants."

She laughs, turning away as I scream, desperate and immobile. She takes my baby away.