by L. L. Frost
Strain fills his voice. “Yeah, the sooner the better.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.” I pass the phone back to Tally. “Can you handle things for a bit?”
“Yes, of course.” She bites her lip. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know.” Quickly, I grab a pad of paper and double-check the internet before scrawling down the number for HelloHell Deliveries. “This is the number for the imp’s driver. Ask for Philip. He should be back around six, but if anything happens...”
“I can take care of it.” She flaps her hands at me. “Go.”
“Thank you.” I run down the hall and shove open the side door. Wind and rain slap me in the face, and by the time I reach my car, I’m soaked down to the skin.
Lightning flashes overhead, and I dive into my car, shove the key into the ignition, turn the heaters on full blast, then race out of the parking lot.
On a clear day Kellen’s club, Fulcrum, is within easy walking distance of the bakery. The weather means not many want to wait outside to get in, so there’s free parking spots near the front door. My front tire bounces up onto the curb before I slam to a stop.
When I throw my door open, howling wind deafens my ears, and I throw an arm in front of my face as I fight the storm to make it to the front door. The bouncer opens it before I can reach for the handle. He must have had an eye out for me.
He barely spares me a glance before shouting into a walkie-talkie, “Slater, she’s here!”
Slater meets me at the end of the hall where it opens out into the large dance room. Strobe lights flash across a small mass of determined dancers, and a pre-made music mix throbs through the crowd. Instead of trying to talk, Slater grabs my arm and pulls me along the outskirts to the hall marked Employees Only. The noise lessens as we walk past the break room.
Slater releases me with a muttered apology. “Boss is this way.”
Instead of leading me to the office, Slater stops in front of a service door marked Stairs. He pulls it open and goes first. Worried, I follow close on his heels up three flights of steep stairs to the roof access door, legs aching the entire way.
He pauses in front of it, hand on the knob. “I really hope you know what you’re doing.”
I stare at the metal door in trepidation. “What’s going on?”
“You’ll see.” He pushes it open but doesn’t walk through. Instead, he stands off to the side.
Through the opening, I stare out over the rooftop. The stairwell exits off to one side, and the flat expanse of concrete gives Kellen the perfect stage. The fiery-haired demon stands in the middle of the roof, his shirt off and his pants plastered to his body.
I glance at Slater. “What’s he doing?”
He scowls out into the storm. “Wait for it.”
As if on cue, lightning flashes across the sky, and Kellen throws back his head, releasing a howl that crashes like thunder and shakes the building beneath our feet.
I hope you enjoyed the read! See below for information on how to read the next installment in this serial.
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L.L. Frost lives in the Pacific Northwest and graduated from college with a Bachelor’s in English. She is an avid reader of all things paranormal and can frequently be caught curled up in her favorite chair with a nice cup of coffee, a blanket, and her Kindle.
When not reading or writing, she can be found trying to lure the affection of her grumpy cat, who is very good at being just out of reach for snuggle time.
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