“If this takes much longer, we’ll be late and we won’t be let into the auction,” Fifi continued, driving me beyond the point of insanity.

  “I know that,” I said through gritted teeth. Honestly, why did everyone treat me like I was stupid? “But if we get pulled over by mortal authorities, we might end up in a cell. Do you really want to have to flash the cop who pulls us over to get us out of a ticket? I don’t think your boyfriend would like that much.”

  Fifi pursed her lips and said nothing. I took that as a win. At least, until she started talking again.

  “So, why are you doing this, really?”

  “I told you.”

  Fifi shook her head. “No, you didn’t.”

  “I wanted to feed from Lydia,” I answered, spearing her with a look. “And I want to maintain my seat on the council. There, are you happy now?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me and again shook her head. “I don’t believe this is about your seat on the council or about feeding from Lydia. You could get a meal anywhere from just about anyone. Hell, there were women throwing themselves at you in Hollywood and you barely looked at them. A quickie would have been easy, but you didn’t do it, even though you could have.”

  “So why do you think I’m doing this then?”

  She smiled which made me frown even more. “I think you might actually... like this girl.”

  “Pfft. I don’t even know her.”

  Her lips curled ever so slightly at the corners with amusement. My answer wasn’t a ‘no’, and she knew it. In truth, I did like the gypsy girl—well, at least a little. Even if I hadn’t yet met her in person, she’d been witty and charming during our video calls and she was damn attractive. I’d poured it on thick and she’d still managed to keep herself coherent. That was a rare quality in most of the women I met. In all honesty, the conversations got dull when your partner was so blissed out on your pheromones and the great sex that they couldn’t think of anything else. I occasionally wanted something other than a roll in the hay—I mean, just a little bit other. Disgraceful, I know. I must have been getting sentimental in my middle age.

  “So, tell me about her,” Fifi said. She’d finally stopped drumming her fingers on the dash, preoccupied with the conversation instead. “I know you went digging.”

  Damn her for knowing me so well. I glowered, and she gave me a serene smile in response. In truth, most of what I knew about Lydia Chex had told me, but I was known to cyberstalk potential conquests—so this line of questioning wasn’t a surprise.

  “She’s going through a divorce.”

  “Well, at least she’s not married.”

  “You told me I wasn’t allowed to go after the married ones and I listened.”

  She smiled. “Imagine that.” I frowned, and she continued. “What’s the news on the ex?”

  “Rodney Rourke is a compulsive gambler, and he’s been dragging out the proceedings, trying to foist his debt onto her. She’s been fighting him like hell. But then, all of a sudden, she decides to move to Haven Hollow. Chex won’t tell me everything, but I think the husband might have sent someone to terrify Lydia into compliance. He probably meant to get a human knee-breaker and ended up employing a demon instead. When the demon saw what she was, he took her.” I took a breath. “But according to the cat, Lydia summoned the demon when she opened some old book she found.”

  “Both sound too convenient,” Fifi said, tapping her full bottom lip.

  “I know, but we don’t know what the truth is and I don’t want to talk about it any longer, so can we drop it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s nice to know my brother has a spark of human decency in him. I’d like to explore that.”

  “Uh-uh. Go on thinking I’m a manwhore who doesn’t want any trouble with the Council. It’s a lot closer to the truth.”

  Fifi wrinkled her nose at me but dropped it. “We should start by finding the McDonald’s and the laundromat.”

  “I’m aware. You don’t have to backseat drive, Fifi.”

  We were one of the only cars on the road. Most of the storefronts had been dark for hours, but the McDonald’s in the middle of nowhere knew better than to close. Dewinter wasn’t much bigger than Haven Hollow, so the landmarks Marcus gave us weren’t hard to find. The troubling part was that the road was clear on the other side of town, away from the mountain. I parked in the fast food parking lot, almost straddling one of the faded lines, and climbed out, staring narrowly at the horizon.

  “So, we walk from here?” Fifi asked. “Into the woods and down into hell?”

  “Looks like it.”

  Fifi glanced wistfully down at her pumps and sighed. “And to think I really liked these shoes.”

  ***

  The cat insisted on food before we made the trek. He was nestled in Fifi’s purse, nibbling on the corner of a Big Mac as we walked.

  “Why that street?” Fifi asked.

  “What?”

  “That street we ended up on. Why did Marcus see that when the mountain is all the way over here?”

  “Don’t ask me. I’m not the oracle. Human magic users are strange.”

  “Well, yes, but why not the welcome sign? Why not a map or the name of one of the parks? Why here?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.”

  “Eat a Big Mac?” Fifi teased. “Or rescue the girl like some noble storybook hero?”

  “I am not some storybook hero,” I said, polishing off my burger as we hiked further in. “So, don’t think I’ve turned a page or something. I’m still the same selfish bastard I’ve always been.”

  “Hmm.”

  “No hmm.”

  She laughed. “This is going above and beyond for your job, Angelo. Methinks the man doth protest too much. You want to date her.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “You do.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do.”

  “I want to sleep with her at least once. Maybe twice. And three times if she’s lucky. After that, I just want my commission and I want out.”

  “Yet, here you are—coming to her rescue like—”

  “If you compare me to a knight in shining armor, I will turn around and go home.” She laughed again. “Keep it up, Fifi. I’ve got stories I could tell Roy that you don’t want him to know. Embarrassing, pre-monogamy stories.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare.”

  “I won’t if you drop it.”

  She scowled at me. “You’re very grumpy when you’re infatuated, you know that?”

  “Infatuated,” I repeated and shook my head, wishing I’d never said a damned thing about Lydia. “Just keep your eyes open. We should be coming up on the entrance soon. It’s a cave marked with the Wrathmore seal. Their estate is closest to the hub, according to Ty.”

  We lapsed into silence but for our heavy breathing. It was a steep incline, even for well-fed demons. Chex was breathing hard too, but that was more wheezing from overeating. The cat had swallowed the burger so quickly, it was a wonder it wasn’t lodged in his throat. Fifi came to a stop about a mile in and pointed up the slope toward a narrow crack in the mountain’s base.

  “There. I can sense a guardian near that gap in the rock.”

  I strained my senses. She was right. I couldn’t see the seal, but there was a demon nearby, no question about that. He smelled like home, so I was guessing it was one of Wrathmore’s lackeys there to ward random visitors off or direct us where to go. We approached warily and Chex pulled himself up to get a better look.

  It was a simple matter to slip into my true form, but it took Fifi longer. The incubus waiting for us gave her an appreciative once-over when we came to a stop. He was a big male, even by our standards, rippling with muscles and a handsome enough devil to charm the knickers off every nun in a convent. His smile was all for Fifi, though. Regardless of the fact that incubi and succubae couldn’t feed off one another, we still could have a good romp in the sheets and that was, no doubt, exactly what this guy was thinking about.

  Fifi returned the smile. It was her fake, customer service grin, but the guard had too much of an ego or not enough blood in his brain to puzzle that out. He took the invitation we’d convinced Father to give us before leaving LA when she offered it to him and looked it over once.

  “Auction, huh? Looking for a nice human man to keep as a pet?”

  Fifi fluttered her eyes prettily at him. “A man, a woman, something in between. I’m not all that picky. They just need to be pretty and willing to learn.”

  “I’m willing to learn,” the guard said, suggestion oozing from his tone. I felt the sudden and intense urge to clock him. He wasn’t worthy of my sister, even if she wasn’t already taken. And I was enough on edge not to want to deal with him and his roving eyes.

  Fifi gave his bicep a light shove and trilled a laugh. “I’m sure you are. Some other time, eh?”

  His grin grew sharper. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  In your dreams, bastard, I thought savagely. Touch her and I will rip your horns out of your head.

  Huh. Maybe Fifi was right. My interest in Lydia was making me grumpy. Probably because Fifi had pointed it out when I was already having a damnable time dealing with it myself.

  The guard waved a hand behind him and the illusion of the narrow crack faltered, replaced by a much wider gap with carved obsidian stones leading down into a hellish glow. Stones leading down into the infernal layers, starting with the lowest. Our realm. We had a long climb down.

  “Have fun,” he said.

  “We will,” I answered, and dragged Fifi away from the creep and down towards the abyss.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lydia

  “What a mess,” an unfamiliar male voice said from just above me. “Seriously, what did he do? Take a blowtorch to her?”

  Hands flattened to my back, sending ripples of agony across my tender flesh. I tried to roll away from the voice, but only managed a pathetic flop before my body betrayed me, going limp once more. The man got the message though and drew his hands gingerly away from the injured section of skin. He clucked his tongue once in disapproval.

  “He summoned fire from the deep,” Bella said quietly. “She was trying to run and take me with her. Help, please, or...” I could hear Bella lick her lips. “Or I’ll tell Simon what you’re really here to do.”

  There was a beat of stunned silence, and then the man laughed. “You’re threatening me? You of all people?”

  Bella sniffed hard, probably trying to hold back tears. She seemed the sort to get easily overwhelmed in the face of a stronger personality. Not surprising, given her age and what she’d been through, but if we ever made it out of here alive, I was going to have to get that girl a library full of self-help books.

  “I-I mean it. I’ll tell him about your other identity.”

  The man laughed again, a sound so rich and full of amusement that it made my stomach quiver. Warmth pooled in my belly, a conditioned response to the husky noise. Except... I was pretty sure I’d never met the man in the room with us, let alone heard his voice enough to get all hot and bothered by it. What the hell was going on?

  Indie’s consciousness stirred in response to the voice and my eyes opened without my conscious permission, wheeling to find the source. The man in question was a little over average height, built lean and wiry instead of broad and bulky, like Rodney. A lot of Rodney’s bulk had transformed into flab after his football career went down the toilet, but he still liked to claim it was all muscle. This man had Rodney beat in a lot of other departments, too. Rodney’s hair was thinning and completely gone in places. Not this man’s. While his dark hair was going gray at the temples, it was thick and shiny enough to belong in a shampoo commercial. The age lines around his eyes made him look distinguished instead of exhausted. When he turned his piercing baby blues in my direction, a renewed wave of desire crashed over me, stealing my breath. A word escaped my lips before my brain could authorize the vocalization.

  “Anthony...” Indie said in my voice. It came out on a weary but grateful sigh.

  Anthony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his eyes narrowed as he really scrutinized my face. “Do I know you?”

  No, he didn’t know me, but judging by my reaction, Indie knew him. Knew him and liked him. I didn’t think a witch would admit to feeling anything as strong as genuine love for someone outside of their family, but whatever she had with this guy before she’d died had been close. And I didn’t like it one bit. I didn’t like it that my body was responding to him when I hadn’t clapped eyes on the man until this instant. Was this how Indie felt when I started fantasizing idly about Angelo in my free time? If so, I could understand why she didn’t care for him much.

  Indie’s fond feelings were washed away in a sudden flood of fear. She’d screwed up by drawing his attention to us, and she knew it. She began spinning through any possible replies, weighing which ones he might buy.

  “Who is he?” I asked. “One of your criminal buddies?”

  “My parole officer, actually,” Indie said stiffly. “He’s one of Lucretia Boline’s sons.”

  “So, he’s a warlock?”

  Indie snorted, the sound so full of derision, it made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Which somehow managed to hurt, despite being a ways away from the injury. “Of course not. You know magic doesn’t manifest well in the male line. There have only been a few dozen warlocks in history, period. Anthony has a few modest gifts, but he’s not on par with his mother or sisters.”

  “But he’s still a part of the Rangers?”

  Indie thought about it. “No, not really. He’s sort of a subcontractor. He trained with the Hunters Guild of America for a while and then came to work for his mother as a sort of jack-of-all-trades. He was supposed to be on the lookout the day I died. Now she must have him working alongside Moira’s unit, trying to recover as many supernaturals as they can from the Appropriator.”

  “Who’s Moira?”

  Indie sighed. “Never mind that. The point is, he’s a friend.”

  “So, you say, but he hasn’t exactly been helpful so far, has he?”

  Anthony crouched by my side, inspecting my face with so much intensity, I thought he’d peer into my skull and see the verbal spat I was having with Indie. He snapped his fingers in front of my face until my eyes focused.

  “I asked if I knew you.”

  “Not exactly,” I said, stalling.

  He gave me a skeptical look that Indie found endearing and that made me want to spit. “Not exactly, huh? So how exactly do you know my name then?”

  Indie thought furiously for a few seconds before coming up with something that sounded plausible but was an outright lie. “Indigo. I had, er um, I have Indigo’s cat, Checkers. He was pretty traumatized after she um... exploded in my shop, I guess. He told me a lot about her.”

  “Uh-huh and you just happened to guess who I was?” Anthony asked slowly. I could tell he didn’t believe me. Or at least, believed I wasn’t telling the whole story, which made him way too damned perceptive for my comfort.

  “Right. Indigo... well, she talked a lot about you. And she described you and... well, you fit the description.”

  “Goddess, you’re making me sound like a pathetic schoolgirl with a crush!”

  “Would you rather I tell him the truth?”

  “No,” she answered in a pout.

  “Right. So, shut it.”

  “And Checkers just happened to stay with you instead of looking for another witch?” Anthony continued studying me with narrowed and disbelieving eyes.

  “Uh yeah. Yeah, he did.”

  He chuckled. “I did research into that incident after it happened. You aren’t a witch, are you, Ms. Rourke?”

  “Morton,” I corrected him. “I’m getting a divorce from Rodney Rourke and I don’t want to be associated with his name. And no, I’m not a witch. I’m a gypsy.”

  Anthony tilted his head, considering me. “That’s not quite right either. There’s something about you. Are you a half-breed, by any chance? Part witch and part gypsy? Or at least have a witch in your family line?”

  It was as good a lie as any, so I seized on it. “Maybe. I’m not that close with the extended family, but yeah, it’s possible.”

  Internally, I was a little frustrated with Indie. “Why can’t we just tell him the truth?”

  “Because this isn’t a secure location, and even if it was, he’d probably think you’re lying. Our situation is unheard of.”

  She had me there. Anthony gave me another long, probing look before shrugging. He gave the door a cursory glance then, checking that the coast was clear before he knelt over me again, hands hovering over my back. The wound throbbed with every beat of my heart. The pain was so fierce, it made my eyes prick and I buried my face in the hardwood to keep him from seeing the tears welling in them. I didn’t want to bawl in front of a man I didn’t know.

  “Jesus,” Anthony muttered as he examined the burn. “Was it this bad when he dragged her back here?”

  “Worse,” Bella said timidly. She’d been silent during our exchange, but piped up now that the subject had turned back to my injury. “I did what I could in terms of healing her. But then I ran out of my magic. I also had to fend off more White Thieves while she was unconscious. They seem determined to grab her. I don’t know why.” She took a breath. “As soon as my magic reserves build up again, I can give it another shot. Believe it or not, she looks better now than she did.”

  Anthony gave me a sharp look and then cursed under his breath. The weirder things got, the more likely he was to ask questions I couldn’t answer. So, I kept my head down and said nothing. There was enough pain to focus on at the moment to occupy my attention. It was easy to dodge his eyes.

  “How many of the White Thieves?” he asked.

  “Four, but there were more last time.”