A pause as Zacharel panned the room. “There is no need for you to do anything. Burden is already contained.”
“True that. We’re all done, big guy. You’re welcome, by the way,” said a husky voice she recognized.
A voice she would never forget, because it shivered through her with unnatural force. Of course, the scents of champagne and chocolate drifted to her nose, confirming her suspicions.
The man possessed by the demon of Promiscuity was here.
Annabelle would have assumed a defensive position—or maybe offensive—but Zacharel held her steady.
“You’re not done until you clean up the mess,” he announced harshly.
Wait. They were working together?
Grumbles, then, “Whatever you say, angel cake,” a woman said. “Dibs on telling others what to clean!”
“Kaia,” a man groaned. “You are
“You’re only jealous you didn’t think of it first.”
“True.”
Different sounds soon filled Annabelle’s ears. Something being dragged. A body? A trash bag being opened. Heavy things falling inside, landing. Mumbles of complaint.
She blocked each one. “Why didn’t you tell me your plan?”
“Because demons can taste fear.”
“And he needed to taste mine to believe you,” she finished for him.
“Not necessarily. Even though you are learning to look past such emotions, I needed your reactions to be honest.” At long last, Zacharel’s wings lowered.
Annabelle spun. Smears of blood covered the walls and floor, though she could tell someone had tried to wipe them away. Other than that, there was no sign that a battle had taken place. Four bloodstained male warriors and the three females stood in the center of the room, each studying her with avid interest.
She would have studied them right back, but then she caught sight of Burden, still at his desk, his cheek pressed into the surface and a blade poised at the center of his neck, between two ridges of spine.
A horribly scarred man held that blade with a steady hand. “What do you want me to do with him, angel?”
“My men will come and collect him. We have questions, and he has answers.”
“You said your men were not here,” Burden gritted out.
Zacharel smiled the cruelest of his grins. “And they are not. Yet. I told you I brought no angels with me, and unlike you, I’m a man of my word. But I didn’t make any promises about demons, did I? Allow me to introduce you to the Lords of the Underworld.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THANE, XERXES AND BJORN strode into the office, but they didn’t say a word, and they didn’t stay. They collected Burden and took off. Everyone watched, silent.
As their footsteps echoed, Zacharel introduced Annabelle to the group who’d saved the day. Most were demon possessed, yet clearly Zacharel knew them, liked them—and wouldn’t let her hurt them. Lucien carried Death. Strider carried Defeat. Amun carried Secrets and, of course, Paris, the guy who’d needed a light for his cigarette, carried Promiscuity.
The best she could do was incline her head to acknowledge she’d heard their names. Demons were demons, no matter how you sliced it. She wanted nothing to do with them.
The women weren’t possessed, but they seemed just as dangerous—if not more so. Kaia was a redheaded Harpy, whatever that meant. Anya was a gorgeous blonde stunner and the supposed goddess of Anarchy, and Haidee was…undoubtedly something, though no one would say what.
Haidee’s tanned skin glowed with health and vitality, a rosy blush stained her cheeks and a smile brightened her face. She rocked pink highlights in her hair, her arms were sleeved with tattoos, and she wore an adorable Hello Kitty dress. Zacharel refused to so much as glance in her direction, had barely even acknowledged her, yet Annabelle battled the urge to walk over there and hug her.
Why?
Better question: Harpies, goddesses, human-looking girls of mysterious origin—what else was out there? What else was Annabelle ignorant about?
A glint of silver caught her attention and Annabelle bent down to pick up…a dagger. Sweet! The battle was over, yeah, but better safe than sorry, considering what surrounded her.
“You’re glaring at my friends, and now you’re armed. Why are you glaring at my friends, human…girl… person?” The redhead stepped into Annabelle’s personal space, claiming her notice by rising on her tiptoes to pat her on the top of her head. “Never mind, I can guess. You think that because they’re possessed, they’re pure evil. Well, news flash, china doll. The demons are evil, but the guys who house them are marshmallows. I’m the real nightmare here.”
At five feet nine, Annabelle towered over the girl. She lifted her gaze to Zacharel, who stood as unyielding as an iron fence, silently asking if he would get into trouble if she knocked Kaia around. Did no one know the difference between Chinese and Japanese?
He gave a negative shake of his head. “Never mess with a Harpy.”
“I still have no idea what a Harpy is,” Annabelle pointed out.
“A death machine, that’s what,” Kaia said.
“But…”
“No buts, Annabelle.” Zacharel looked to the redhead. “And, Kaia. Behave.”
“Fine. But only because you somehow turned this black as night day into a bright shining light, so I’m gonna do you a solid and obey. Want to know how you did that, huh, huh? Good, I’ll tell you.” She barely paused to pop a bubble with her gum. “You used to give Lysander crap about dating my darling sister, but look at you now. You’re pulling a Paris and dating a Hunter, aren’t you, and they’re the worst of the worst!”
Pulling a Paris? A hunter?
Zacharel must have sensed Annabelle’s confusion. “The Hunters are fanatical slayers of the paranormal. They will do anything, even destroy an entire city of innocents, to meet their goals.”
“I am
“That’s what they all say, honey.”
Zacharel released a long-suffering breath. To Kaia, he said, “Annabelle hasn’t yet learned that a man is not the same as the demon tormenting him, that a man can fight the evil and win, and that too many people believe in acting on what they feel and see rather than believing that they can have more, do better, like the Lords. And I can’t blame her. I have only recently learned this lesson myself.”
So the Lords had fought against the evil of their demons and won? Such a victory must have come at a terrible price, she thought, remembering the number of battles she’d fought and lost. Respect for them bloomed, and she forced her grip to ease on the dagger—only to realize Kaia had wrapped her hand around her wrist, claws sinking past skin, probably even into bone. Scalding heat radiated from her.
“You’re too hot,” Annabelle gritted out. Hotter than Zacharel’s hands sometimes were.
The tiny female smiled unabashedly. “I know, right! But my twin sister is way hotter, I promise.”
Twin? There were two of them?
“Kaia,” Zacharel began, as Annabelle said, “Let go of me, tiny tot. Now.”
“Tiny tot. Cute. But what’s the magic word?”
“Kaia!” Zacharel and Strider said in unison.
“Nope. That’s not it.”
Annabelle blurted out a rough, “I’ll kick you in your lady balls if you don’t.”
“Bingo!” One by one, Kaia pried her nails loose, leaving little red welts on Annabelle’s skin.
“I think you’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met,” Annabelle groused.
“And you’re the sweetest. So tell me,” Kaia said, and popped another bubble. “Is Zacharel a good lover?
