Page 66 of Dark Prince

“I’ll keep that in mind,” my sister says seriously, as though she’s already dedicating that to memory to refer back to. Then she looks at me, squinting for a moment. “Okay, okay. I thought something like this might happen. Honestly, it was pretty obvious that he was into you, but I didn’t think you’d be into him. I figured you might end up just falling into a fling with him by accident—and don’t argue with me, that’s how it goes with you and guys, like, eighty percent of the time—but you actually seem to be super into Lucas.”

“I am.”I really am.And honestly, she’s not wrong about my usual way of doing the dating thing. That’s how I ended up with Jason. “It’s only been a day or whatever, but it’s been good. I feel… happy.”

“Then cheers to him, and I’m officially no longer trying to talk you out of it,” Cassidy says with a grin. “Now, where am I gonna find a guy who runsandlifts?”

As the conversation turns away from me and shifts toward Cass’s future dating prospects, I breathe a contented sigh. This feels good. It feelsnormal. Drinking and gossiping with the girls like everything is exactly the way I always thought it was. This is exactly what I needed after having my entire world turned upside down, in more ways than one.

A touch of normalcy, just for a moment.

Chapter23

Lucifer

With Fenrizon my right and Moloch on my left, we draw attention from humans and demons alike as we stride down the street. We’ve already hit up the most troubled areas in L.A., the ones that hit my radar due to Havek’s abysmal mismanagement. Unfortunately, apart from scaring the Hell out of a few lowlifes, we haven’t come up with much. Fenriz has done a damn good job of cleaning up Havek’s mess.

On a hunch, I bring my men back to the office block, then lead them down the path Sophia took the night she was attacked by the demon pretending to be a homeless man. As we approach the alley, I gesture for them to take it slow. The deep silence that often accompanies a territorial predator falls as we near the alley.

Good. That means he’s still here.

I alter my gait, making it deliberately clumsy and loud. Hesitant, like a man afraid of something unseen.The call of prey.

Reaching out with all my senses, I feel his attention on the air, that spike of anticipation and blood lust. Stumbling, I run my hand along the wall near his lair. I take one hesitant step, and another—then smile as the growl precedes the hurtling demon. I snatch him out of the air by his throat, strangling him as I whip around the corner into the dark alley and crush him against the wall.

His eyes widen, and his mouth moves wordlessly. I loosen my grip just enough to allow the creature to speak.

“Dark Lord,” he croaks. “I didn’t hurt her. If I knew she was yours, I never would have—it wasn’t my idea, I swear! I’ve never even worked this block before, but it’s a good block, you know it’s a good block, you understand. You understand.”

“If it wasn’t your idea,” I growl, utterly believing that this creature has never had an idea in its life, “then whose was it?”

He struggles with his pitiful excuse for a conscience, then whimpers.

“It was a messenger,” he croaks. “A messenger from the gang. He told me to move, to look for this one girl with dark auburn hair and green eyes. Gave me something of hers to identify the scent. I didn’t know why, didn’t ask, liked the money, liked the spot. Couldn’t get this spot on my own. The gang cleared it out for me. Bunch of nomads here before.”

Right in my own neighborhood.Fuck.These assholes are getting too cocky for their own good.

“Which gang?”

He chokes, and I loosen my hold again.Pathetic.

“Eleventh Street Psychos,” the demon rasps. “I don’t mess with them normally, but they had this sweet spot—”

That’s all I need. I crush what’s left of his throat and leave him to dissolve—his ilk doesn’t leave much evidence behind when they die. I jerk my head at my men, and we march out of the alley. The trail is faint and tainted, but it’s there. I can smell it.

“You know anything about these Eleventh Street Psychos?” I ask Fenriz as we slide into the car.

“No sir,” he says, his scruffy jaw tense. It hurts his pride when low level street demons know more about the criminal workings of L.A. than he does. “Eleventh street is always quiet.”

“Quiet—or too quiet?”

He gives me a flat look, his hazel eyes flashing. “If you’d like me to start investigating every quiet street in L.A., I’m going to need more men.”

Starting the car and pulling into traffic, I make a noise in my throat. “We’ll just have to go see how quiet it really is.”

Unfortunately, the answer to that question is: disappointingly quiet.

In retrospect, I should have spent a little more time interrogating that piece of vermin in the alley to get a location out of him, but seeing as he got his dubious promotion via messenger, he probably didn’t have anything else to give me.

We drive by warehouse after warehouse. Those with customer-facing offices are closed for the day. Others have packed parking lots, most with a few employees standing around smoking and chatting. I know Fenriz is looking closely at their faces. He has a photographic memory for faces, and a talent for recognizing a skin suit when he sees a demon wearing one.

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