Page 5 of Surrendering Hope (The Hope Legacy)

I wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head on his chest. “I’m so sorry, Duncan. Your parents?”

He sighs as he slips his arms around me, enveloping me in his arms and letting me breathe in his oranges and fresh linens scent. “Dead. There’s just me, Locks.”

“How long ago?”

“Long enough for the pain to dull into an ache.”

Understanding his meaning, I nod. “How long have you had the bat cave?”

He chuckles, stirring the hair on the top of my head. “It’s been in my family over three hundred years. The wards are strong because each member of my family added and reinforced them over time.” I pull back from his embrace and stare up at chocolate brown eyes.

“Wow, so this is a family heirloom?”

Zee stalks into the room and thrusts my phone towards me, the permanent scowl etched on his face. “Charlie,” he states. Releasing Duncan, I grab the phone.

“Uncle Charlie?”

“Natia, the meet is midnight tonight at Hell’s Hole in New Orleans.”

“Hell’s Hole, is it a place or…?”

“A demon bar,” Duncan says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh goody, target practice,” I state, chuckling.

“It’s dangerous, Natia. But he’s promised safe passage for you and you alone.”

“Name?” I ask.

“He goes by Ant. He claims to be Lucifer’s right-hand man. I’m not sure what his angle is, but it’s likely given his rank that he knows something useful,” Uncle Charlie states.

“Then it’s worth the risk.”

Zee fists his hands so tight I can see the white of his knuckles. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Chapter Three

Natia

Taurus; a loyal friend and a dedicated enemy.

Hell’s Hole turns out to be located underneath one of New Orleans’ many graveyards. I enter through a series of crypts connected by creepy, low tunnels lit by candles suspended on chandeliers. Duncan should visit and get decorating ideas for the bat cave. The main chamber is decorated in swaths of deep red velvet. An obnoxious throne of gold rests on a stage, no doubt waiting for the Prince of Darkness to grace it with his derriere. Scantily clad girls dancing in metal bird cages hang from the ceiling. The bald, ugly ogre at the door didn’t even blink when I strutted up to the entrance past the line of willing victims stretching around the graveyard. Zee, Aaden, and Duncan sit in a suspicious blacked-out SUV on the periphery of the graveyard. The instructions for the meet were simple, come alone or don’t come at all. It took me two hours to convince a pissed Zee to let me go. A slender silver bangle sits around my wrist. It transmits my location and has a tiny panic button concealed in the clasp.

I prowl the outskirts of the main cavern, taking in the various groups of supernaturals: vampires, succubi, incubi (who are eyeing the succubi like teenagers across a playground), trolls, and a bunch of misfits who could audition for parts in ‘Supernatural’.

Halfway through my survey, the tension in the room shifts and the hairs on my arms stand to attention. I gasp as a hurricane of power sweeps through the atmosphere. Nobody else seems affected, and apart from the few humans who have entered, nobody new has appeared.

As the clock strikes midnight, I perch on a stool at the far end of the long steel bar and peruse the occupants, the prickle of power continuing to skim across my skin as I wait for the bartender to take my order. He finishes serving drinks to a group of giggling girls with cleavage hanging dangerously out of their tops, then saunters over to me.

He grins, a row of straight, white teeth on display. “What can I get for you, pretty girl?”

A smile pulls at my lips as I spin to face him. “What do you have on offer?”

He leans on the bar, closing the distance between us, his hypnotic, sea-green eyes piercing mine. I hold his stare and work hard to keep my posture relaxed. “For you? Many things, come back here and let me show you.”

My lips purse to stop the laugh bubbling out at the obvious come on and offer him my hand. “Natia.”

He grasps my hand and twists it to the right, placing a kiss to the vulnerable skin on my wrist. A shiver works up my arm followed by goose pimples. “If you want formalities before I blow your mind, I’m Frank.” My suppressed laughter spills out. Instead of being offended, he grins. “Playing hard to get, Natia? I like it.”

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