by Tamar Sloan
Reign frowns, wishing the world would slow down a little. “Who’s Colt?”
Gabby beams. “My boyfriend.”
“Your boyfriend is a demon?”
She nods, pride glinting softly in her eyes. “Yep.” She angles her head, arching a brow. “Going to tell me demons aren’t real again?”
Reign has no response. That demon just saved his life.
Gabby folds into Colt’s side, her face softening in a way that suggests this is where she feels like she belongs. Colt wraps a protective arm around her, pulling her even closer. Before Reign can blink, his wings are gone.
“Ah, thanks,” he says haltingly. What the heck are the social rules around thanking a demon for saving you from a bunch of Hell-faces?
Colt shrugs. “No big deal.”
Gabby presses a hand to Colt’s chest. “Are you a believer now, Reign?”
Reign clenches his hands. “I never said I didn’t believe it.” He angles his chin, his gaze sliding to Arielle. “Only that I don’t want anything to do with it.”
Colt glances down at Gabby, eyebrows raised. She shrugs. “He’s got a chip on his shoulder,” she whispers loudly for anyone to hear.
Colt looks back to Reign. “It’s probably safer for you that way,” he says solemnly. “We just ask that you don’t speak of this to anyone.”
Reign makes a cross sign on his chest. “I don’t want to be admitted into the loony bin any sooner than I need to be.”
Colt glances over his shoulder at the two unconscious and one dead Hell-face. “We need to get going. Others will come looking for them.”
“There are more?” Arielle asks quietly.
She wraps her arms around herself, and Reign notes the way Gabby’s brow furrows. Arielle has that fragile, lost look about her again. Like her world has been smashed to smithereens and she’s worried she’ll be next.
He mentally shakes himself. Not that it’s his problem.
Colt nods. “But it’s not you they want. Once we get home, you’ll be safe,” he assures her.
Arielle chews her lip as she turns back to the car. Reign follows as the others join her. Mac brushes his hand as she moves in close.
“You okay?”
Reign throws her an arched look. “Just another day on the streets.”
Mac shakes her head. “Some weird shit happens on the streets, but nothing like this.”
He climbs in the car, sitting beside her, Arielle tucked into the door on the other side. Gabby drives with Colt beside her in the passenger side. Arielle’s still pale and quiet.
The drive back is silent, no doubt as everyone tries to process what they’ve seen today. Reign rests his head back, lowering his eyelids so it looks like he’s sleeping, even though there’s no way he could turn off his mind right now.
He’d love to forget everything that happened today. The white wings. The black wings. The strange crypt beneath the mansion. But he can’t.
Not when he was abducted by Hell-faces. Not when Colt’s words to Arielle are on a menacing loop in his head.
It’s not you they want.
Arielle may be able to return to some semblance of normality. But for some reason, Reign is on their most wanted list.
18
Arielle
A map of Mercy City is on the wall in front of Arielle, seven red pins marking seven locations.
There’s that number again. Seven. A part of her is considering writing it on one of her boots, except she doubts she’ll be forgetting it anytime soon.
Reign is still standing by the door they just entered through. “You live in the basement?”
Colt shrugs. “I don’t like windows.”
Gabby squeezes his hand. “More privacy,” she says cheekily.
To Arielle’s surprise, Colt flushes. Who would’ve thought this quiet, reserved guy is a demon? Arielle swallows. Who would’ve thought any of this is real?
She glances around the room again, taking in the cement walls and floor. Gabby and Colt brought them to Colt’s hideout, which also turned out to be his living quarters. The small apartment complex above them looked like so many of the common buildings around the city. Square, banal, inexpensive because extras like parking and balconies aren’t available.
But instead of taking a lift, Colt had led them to the fire stairs. The descent had reminded Arielle of walking down the stairs into the crypt when Gabby revealed her wings. Is that the moment everything changed? Or was it when she found her mother’s journal? Or did all this start long before that, when her mother discovered the occult?
Knowing there’s no answer to those questions, Arielle glances at the three people with her in the basement. Colt and Gabby stand close together, pretending they aren’t watching everyone else just as closely, probably waiting for someone to finally process all this and fall in a heap. Mac is in the kitchenette, eyeing the stack of pizza boxes to her left and the unmade double bed on her right. She’s scoping the place out like she’s fascinated by it all, and yet she’s ready to fight any second.
Reign is still by the door, scowl in place. His arms are crossed over his chest like a shield. Arielle takes in the stay-the-hell-away-from-me he’s working hard to exude, and for once, it’s not all she sees. He’s staring at her in that intense way of his, emotions shifting in his green eyes. Reign cared that her mother is missing. Reign tried to protect her when the crypt opened.
And lastly, he’s still here. Despite everything that has happened, he hasn’t run away.
He looks away, breaking the moment. “So, if that’s everything, I’d like to get going.”
Arielle tightens her jaw. She really needs to get a grip on herself with this guy.
Colt comes to stand beside her, indicating toward the map. “Actually, we brought you here for a reason.”
Arielle turns back to study the seven pins, Mac joining them. Reign doesn’t move from his place by the door.
Arielle steps in closer as she recognizes one of the locations. “That’s where Mom was taken.”
Colt nods. “Each of these pinpoints the location a woman was abducted.”
“We’ve been investigating it,” Gabby adds. “We’ve asked around. All we’ve learned is there was a white, unmarked vehicle fleeing the scene after each abduction took place. And they all happened an hour apart.”
“It’s not possible for one vehicle to kidnap all seven people in one hour,” Reign observes. “Not from different parts of the city.”
Arielle resists the urge to glance at him. It seems Reign is paying attention.
Colt nods again. “Yep. There must have been two or three vehicles, maybe even six.” He glances at the three people watching him. “This was a coordinated attack.”
Gabby sighs. “And Colt detected demonic aura at every location. It was definitely a demon job.”
Arielle heads to the small table a few feet away and sits down heavily. “But why?”
Why do demons want her mom? And six other women?
Colt frowns. “We haven’t been able to figure that out. I’ve tried to track them, but I didn’t get very far. There’s some pretty powerful demon magic involved here.”
Mac steps closer to the map. “Maybe I could ask around. I have contacts on the street.”
Gabby’s face lights up. “You do?”
“We both do,” says Reign.
They all turn to him, and Arielle wonders if the others are as surprised as she is. Before anyone can say anything, Mac is shaking her head.
“No. You’re still a POI.”
“POI?” Arielle echoes.
“Person of interest,” Colt volunteers. He angles his head at Reign. “Seems someone has been messing on the wrong side of the law?”
Reign shrugs. “I may or may not have been the getaway driver for a couple of friends doing a heist.” He glances at Arielle, his hands dropping to his side. “It’s not my proudest moment, to be honest.”
She stills, knowing he’s extending an apology.
“Apparently, you’re also a POI for demons, too,” Colt says. “Any ideas why?”
Reign’s arms cross back over his chest. “No idea,” he says flatly.
Mac shakes her head even harder. “All the more reason you need to lay low right now.”
“I never said I wasn’t,” Reign points out.
“You didn’t need to,” she shoots back.
“Seven women have been abducted, Mac. That’s seven moms, or seven sisters, or seven daughters.”
Arielle notes the edge in his voice. He’s talking like someone who cares.
“And what if demons come after you?” Mac demands.
Reign glances at Colt, grinning. “Can I put you on speed dial?”
Colt nods. “Sure. Crushing demons is my all-time favorite pastime.”
“Excellent,” Reign announces, clapping his hands as if it’s all settled. Except the moment he does, he winces.
Mac rushes forward. “Reign, your hands!”
Arielle shoots to her feet but stops herself before she moves. She doesn’t need to be beside Reign to see the damage to his palms. Grazed and raw, they’re dotted with gravel and streaked with blood.
That’s why he had his arms crossed. He was hiding his injuries.
Reign tries to hide them again but Mac won’t let him. She opens his hands so she can inspect them. “We need to clean this up.”
“It’s fine, Mac. I’ll just wash them or something.”
“It’s really not,” she counters crossly. She glances at Colt. “Do you have a first aid kit here?”
“Ah…no. Sorry.” He shrugs ruefully. “I don’t even have crockery here, let alone a first aid kit.”
Gabby frowns. “We could stop off at a pharmacy?”
Reign tries to tug his hand away. “Like I said, it’s fine. I’ll make sure I use extra soap.”
Mac huffs as she releases him. “If they get infected and fall off, at least I can say I tried.”
“I have a first aid kit.”
Three sets of eyes turn to Arielle as she holds up her backpack.
“Of course you do,” says Gabby with a laugh. “That bag of yours is like the Tardis. There’s probably an entire hospital ward in there.”
Arielle huffs in mock offense. “I like to be prepared, okay?” She turns to Reign. “I could clean them up if you like?”
Reign stills. His gaze darts from her to the backpack to his hands. Arielle waits. For some reason, his answer matters. Will he dismiss her offer of help just like he did with Mac?
He sighs. “If it’s going to get you all off my back, then fine.”
Arielle suppresses a smile as she sets about getting what she needs. Her first aid kit is tucked in the bottom right of her backpack, beside the sewing kit and above the emergency poncho.
Reign slips onto the chair beside hers. “I can do it,” he says quietly. Almost nervously.
Arielle rolls her eyes. “We don’t have time for that.” She holds out her hand. “Come on. Don’t tell me you’re scared of a bit of antiseptic.”
Reign stiffens and plonks his hand on the table, face up. “Bring it on.”
“Gabby and Colt,” Mac says a little too loudly, tearing her gaze away from Reign. She looks as shocked as she did when she saw an angel for the first time. “Show me everything I need to know about this map.”
The two join her and they huddle around the map, their backs to them. Gabby glances over her shoulder and winks.
Refusing to acknowledge it, Arielle flicks open the small sterile mat she’s pulled out. She indicates to Reign that she wants to slip it under his hand. He complies, his frown dancing over his dark brows. Arielle picks up a vial of saline, determined to do this quickly. She’s being a good Samaritan, nothing more.
She slips her hand beneath his, stifling a gasp as they easily slot together. His skin is so much warmer than she expected, his hand seeming to pulse with a strength that shoots straight up her arm. She ducks her head, avoiding Reign’s gaze as she squirts saline over him. A little part of her wonders how steam isn’t rising up.
Reign clears his throat. “You really do have the works in that bag of yours.”
Arielle flushes his hand, the saline running red as the blood washes away. “Dora the Explorer ain’t got nothing on my backpack,” she jokes, keeping her gaze on her task.
The streaks of claret wash away, revealing the gravel pocked grazes beneath. The heel of his hand has borne the brunt of the damage, but the cuts don’t look too deep. Arielle picks up an antiseptic wipe, hesitating as she realizes she’s about to touch Reign even more.
“If you’re squeamish, then I can do it.” He goes to pull his hand back. “And I promise I’ll be quick.”
Before Arielle knows she’s done it, she’s tightened her hand. She shakes her head. “After what I saw today, this is child’s play.”
Although the man was trying to kill Reign and Colt, the image of his lifeless form is branded in her mind. She practically felt the bullet that took his life. These grazes are nothing compared to the finality of death.
Reign nods, his arm relaxing. “Yeah. I’ve seen bullet wounds before, and they couldn’t compare to today.”
Arielle glances down before Reign can see her reaction to his words. She suspected life hasn’t always been kind to him, and that just confirmed it.
His hand tenses in hers. “I don’t want your pity, Arielle.”
She flashes him an annoyed look, the warm feeling that had been blossoming shriveling a little. “I’ve noticed.”
She’s also noticed that he misreads compassion.
She picks up an antiseptic wipe, smiling sweetly. “No pity. Noted.”
She wipes at his grazes, keeping her pressure firm but gentle as the remaining pieces of gravel easily come out.
His breath hisses through his teeth. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
She flashes him a smile, this one far more sincere than the last. “A little bit.”
Reign seems to startle, his eyes widening. His gaze flickers to her lips. Arielle’s breath disintegrates in her lungs. One glance from this guy and she’s hovering on a precipice she never knew existed.
Reign looks away, glancing at the others over by the map. Jolted back to reality, Arielle looks over, too. Gabby, Colt and Mac are engrossed in their discussion, apparently unaware of the two of them. Arielle returns to her task, placing a large dressing over the heel of Reign’s palm. He looked like he was hiding something. Or that he was worried about getting caught. She frowns. Does he have feelings for Mac, after all?
“Other hand, please,” she says, not liking the husky note in her voice.
Reign complies, and Arielle experiences the same jolt all over again as she clasps it. She leans over to repeat the process, surprised when Reign does the same.
“I just wanted to say,” he says in a low voice, glancing back at the others again. His green gaze, once more full of tangles and mysterious as a labyrinth, returns to hers. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About the car.” He smiles crookedly. “You know, the whole almost hitting you thing.”
Why does Arielle sense that if his hand wasn’t in hers, it would be rubbing the back of his head? And since when did such a crooked smile tug at her heart with such intensity?
She smiles back, glad she also has a second chance to get this right. “Thanks. It seems neither of us were having a good day.”
He arches an eyebrow, humor glinting in his gaze. “Not so much about the boots, though. That apology I may have to work up to.”
Arielle looks down at his palm, noting this one isn’t as bad as the first. “Surely you can understand,” she says, glancing back up at him. “Haven’t you ever owned something that important to you?”
Reign looks away. “Nope.”
Realizing what she just said, Arielle’s about to take her words back when she stops. Trying to apologize is probably going to sound like pity. And yet…she’s not ready for this moment to end. This Reign fascin
ates her. How is it that he says he doesn’t care, and yet it feels like he does?
An idea strikes her and she jams her hand in her backpack, pulling out the first thing she finds.
“Here then,” she says, grinning. “Treasure this always.”
Reign’s brows shoot up as he takes it. “A compass?”
“May it never be splashed with ketchup,” she announces with a flourish, placing it on the table beside her.
Reign’s mouth twitches but he focuses back on his hand before Arielle can see if those sculpted lips ever make it to a full blown smile. “Gee, thanks,” he replies wryly.
A sweet warmth unfurls in Arielle’s belly as she flushes the saline. Did they just have a moment? She tears open another antiseptic wipe, suddenly confused. Surely she didn’t enjoy the moment?
Mac wanders over, peering at Arielle’s handiwork. “How’s the patient?”
“Grouchy,” Arielle says with a smile as she wipes antiseptic over his wound and Reign frowns.
Mac grins. “Wait till you really get to know him.”
Arielle holds her smile even though Mac’s words strike a chord. Is that what she’s doing? Really getting to know Reign?
Because obnoxious, get-out-of-my-face Reign is, well…obnoxious. Arielle can’t imagine anyone wanting to spend time with that guy. But there are layers to this guy. And the few glimpses she’s had beneath his tough exterior have been…fascinating.
She mentally shakes herself. Her mom is missing, and her angel cousin and her demon boyfriend think the supernatural is involved. Arielle well and truly has enough on her plate right now. She doesn’t need the roller coaster of emotions she’s experienced around Reign any more than she needs to know that vampires or witches or…or reapers exist right now.
She almost shudders. Surely reapers don’t exist.
Reign stands abruptly, his chair scraping over the cement floor. “That’s me. Layers of jerk under a thin veneer of asshole.”
Arielle blinks as she tries to keep up with the change of mood. “I haven’t put a dressing on yet.”
He doesn’t glance at her as he steps back. “This will be fine.” He hesitates. “Thanks.”
