The man was painstakingly beautiful. Darkly exquisite in a way that bordered on the odd. His face was perfect, and the blue of his eyes promised bliss. Cory reacted to him in a way only his wife had been able to provoke from him. He struggled for air, unable to escape the man’s scent and the faint smell of sulfur.
The man’s full lips curved into a slight smile, as if he knew his effect. His brilliant gaze flickered over the spilled coffee, then back to Cory. “Hello, Mr. Roberts.”
At the sound of the stranger’s voice, Cory’s head splintered with pain. He wanted to sob and he wanted to run, but he couldn’t move.
“You may call me Asmodeus, and I’m here to do you a favor.”
Cory started to respond, but his heart seized. Files toppled to the floor as he clutched his chest, wide-eyed and wheezing. He stared up at the man, inherently knowing he had brought this sudden pain on.
Asmodeus’s smile grew. “I can make the senator’s scandal go away. You can keep your job, the fancy house on the hill…and your wife.”
Cory gasped as the air in his lungs expelled painfully. “What…are you?”
He waved a dismissive hand. “All you have to do is return the favor to me. There’s someone that…I need.”
Chapter Four
Michael felt as if he’d been hit over the head by an NFL linebacker and then walked through the Mojave Desert. He had never been so thirsty in his life.
“Oh, I think he’s waking up.”
He flinched. Those words were exceptionally loud. He had no idea why his head hurt. Finally the fog that had settled over his memories started to clear. There’d been a disturbance call in an alley and an old man. Michael remembered that.
“I guess I don’t know my own strength.”
And he remembered that voice and who it belonged to. His eyes snapped open. He was looking into a pair of startling green eyes. He stared dumbly at the girl perched on a chair beside his bed, wearing this little half smile.
The richness of her auburn-colored hair flattered the pinkish tone of her flawless skin, causing her eyes to shine like emerald jewels. Her rosy lips were lush. Lips that would’ve normally had his cock jumping out of his pants, but something about her turned his insides ice cold.
The girl wiggled her fingers. “Hello.”
He tore his gaze from her, realizing they weren’t alone. Two hulking males stood at the foot of his bed. By the intricate tattoos covering the arms and hands of the lighter-skinned one, he knew they weren’t fellow police officers.
Which would mean? He reached for his gun but came up empty. He jerked up, wincing, and grappled for the small microphone that connected to the radio system. But that was gone, too.
“I’d be careful,” she said. “You shouldn’t move too quickly.”
He turned back to her, stunned this tiny thing had knocked him out. Anger flared, tightening the muscles in his gut and, beyond that, a sense of weariness. “Where is my duty belt?”
Her smile never faltered. “We took it. None of us wanted to get shot. The doctor here hates pulling things out of us.”
“Where’s my gun?”
“Now, boy”—the lighter-skinned one took a menacing step forward—“you watch your tone.”
Michael’s gaze swiveled to him. “Who are you?”
His lips twisted into a sneer. “I’m the one who’ll put you in your coffin if you talk to me like that again.”
Michael swung his legs off the bed and stood. To hell with the thumping in his head and jaw, and forget the fact that he swayed on his feet. “Is that so?”
The girl sighed. “Boys.”
Neither of them listened. The fair-skinned one cocked his head to the side. “If you weren’t already knocked out once today, you’d be on the ground.”
Then the girl was in front of him, firmly planting herself between them. They towered over her, but there wasn’t an ounce of fear in her eyes. “We don’t have time for the pissing contest about to take place,” she said sweetly. “So let’s all take a breather before I kick the crap out of both of you.”
Amused by the pint-size terror, he glanced down. The humor fled when he saw a blade at his throat. The little bitch… But part of him still wanted to laugh.
“You going to behave?” she asked.
Drawing in a deep breath, he stepped back. “All right, I want to know where I am.”
The blade disappeared into the bracelet. “How about we introduce ourselves first? My name is Lily.” Pausing, she gestured at the angry one. “This is Luke. And this is Remy.”
Instinct told him he’d get nowhere with an attitude, so he pushed his temper as far down as he could and tried to remain calm. “My name is Officer Michael Cons, and you guys are in a lot of trouble.”
Luke snorted. “That’s doubtful.”
“Michael?” Lily murmured. “Go figure. Anyway, you’re at the Sanctuary.”
“The security firm in Federal Triangle?” he asked, praying he had misheard. If so, he was far out of his district. When she nodded, he lost his cool. “Where in the hell is my cruiser? And why do you have me here?”
Luke took a step forward, but Lily arched a single brow at him. “Your cruiser is back at the station in the Seventh District. You’ve been clocked out, and, actually, you’ve requested some leave due to personal issues.” She smiled demurely and added, “Courtesy of us.”
He shook his head faintly. He didn’t know whether to be angry or laugh. This was utter bullshit and had to be some bizarre hallucination.
“I can see you’re a bit shocked. It may help if we explain things to you.” The one named Remy stepped forward with a friendly smile.
“You may want to sit down,” Lily advised.
“I’m fine standing.”
She shrugged. “Luke, can you grab something to drink?”
“Whatever. You’re just trying to get me out of the room. You know he’s going to lose it.”
She turned her bright eyes on Luke. “Please?”
The permanent scowl on Luke’s face started to soften, surprising Michael.
“What do you want?” Luke sighed.
“A milkshake,” she requested with an excitement that he was envious of.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Luke shook his head. “I’ll have to make one or go buy you one, Lily. Come on.”
She pouted. “A milkshake.”
Remy laughed. “You might as well go ahead and get her one.” He paused. “And get me one while you’re at it.”
Luke cursed, but he pivoted swiftly and left the room.
Lily turned back to Michael, folding her arms. “Do you remember anything from the alley?”
“Besides you punching an officer?” he replied.
She smiled evenly. “I mean the old man. Do you remember anything about him?”
He remembered the old man’s brute strength. And his foul breath and some other weird stuff he accounted to the knock he took on his skull. “The one you murdered?”
“The one who was about to rip out your throat and make pretty pictures on the wall with your blood?” She threw back at him. “Yeah, that one.”
He bit down on the inside of his cheek. Something was entirely wrong with these people. His cruiser was somewhere, his gun missing, and the whole department was probably searching for him since he hadn’t responded to any of their calls. They would have found the dead man by now.
