Page 3 of Grim Justice

“Okay. Why are you offering?”

“Let’s just say it’s an attractive option.”

For who? Him? I snorted. “I’m sure it is for you.”

Rael snickered.

Mammoth shook his head. “You’re toying with us. We all know it.”

“Stop the games,” I ordered. “Tell us what we need to know.”

“It’s no secret I have a vested interest in your success.” He shrugged. “That was part of the agreement, Grim.”

Yes. He never let us forget it. “And?”

“This is my effort to ensure things go smoothly.”

Smoothly? Nothing ever went fucking smoothly with my club unless we let our Reapers free to harvest souls.

“You’re telling us nothing,” Wraith spat.

Exorcist cracked his neck. “I don’t like where this is going.”

I held up my hand to silence them. The added commentary would only piss off Lucifer. I really hated that he could manipulate us so effortlessly.

“Are you declining my assistance?”

Refusing his help? No. His interference? Hell yeah.

“It’s hard to know how to reply when I don’t have the knowledge to make a decision.”

“Wise,” Lucifer concluded. “You’re the leader this club needed since Scar began this war. You have all the tools you require to end this feud.”

Then why the fuck did he show up?

Frustrated expressions littered faces around the chapel.

Laughter spilled from Lucifer’s mouth as he pushed to his feet. “Such a serious lot. Reapers never change.”

Mammoth sneered in his direction. “We’re exactly as you made us.”

“True,” Lucifer agreed, “at least partially. There’s still that pesky bit about free choice and individual personality. Keeps things interesting.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face and over my short beard. His visits were tedious and mentally exhausting. “And the point of this?”

“Whatever the fuck I want it to be,” Lucifer hissed. A demonic, horned visage briefly flashed before his features returned to their handsome, flawless norm. The devil loved to appear in control, impeccably dressed, and always one step ahead of us.

His midnight tailored suit, bright white button-up shirt, and shiny black crocodile leather oxford shoes completed the look. He almost passed for a wealthy, self-absorbed businessman except for the sardonic grin and black nails that ended in sharppoints. I had to give him credit for remaining as mysterious, unpredictable, and cocky as the day we first met.

The devil was a master, and we remained nothing more than pawns.

He reached out and gripped my shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze. “You never disappoint.” His hand dropped. “When you need me, I’ll be enjoying a walk in the desert.”

Before I could reply, he fucking vanished. Just like I predicted.

“Motherfucker,” Mammoth mumbled.

“That sick fuck enjoyed this,” Rael added.

---