Chapter Seven
Gwen
“Okay, it’s only three bodies,” Eve said, pacing my living room. “It’s not like Gwen was trying to open the veil or start a war, right? Ashmedai won’t overreact. It’ll be fine.”
I shivered, the Archdemon’s name enough to make any demon tremble. And while I’d met him once, a few exchanged sentences wouldn’t be enough to save me from his wrath. I possessed no real value to him. There were hundreds more just like me. That made me replaceable. A nuisance, really. Especially with my ties to the slain humans.
“Zeb will handle it,” Eve continued, her jeans swishing as her pace increased across the carpeted floor. “And if he doesn’t, I will.” She faced me, her blue eyes alight with promise. “I won’t let them take you to Hell.”
Xai sighed. “You can’t interfere in demon politics, Evangeline.”
She glared at him. “My history of cleaning up their messes says otherwise.”
“They paid you for that.”
“And they can pay me to do it again. Gwen’s innocent. Banishing her to the underworld won’t fix the dead body issue.”
“Well, it would fix a few,” Gleason interjected, his shoulder resting against the living area wall. He’d returned with Xai and Eve about five minutes after Lord Zebulon disappeared.
They all knew about the fresh kill. And they all knew I wasn’t responsible for it because Gleason had seen the man leave last night shortly before they all arrived. Then I’d spent the evening with them. Which meant I had a solid alibi.
Could that be argued in a demon trial? I wasn’t sure since I’d never experienced one. I supposed it depended on Ashmedai’s mood.
Given the circumstances, he certainly wouldn’t be thrilled.
Three deaths, all bearing my mark, all displayed in a public manner meant to be found.
It broke the covenant of demon law in the human realm—maintain a low profile. Mortals didn’t know angels and demons existed. Sure, they had movies and shows and books that spread rumors of our kind. But it was all marketed as fiction and fantasy. Demons and angels were charged with ensuring it stayed that way.
And dropping a bunch of bodies on a sidewalk with supernatural causes of death, didn’t exactly qualify.
I huffed a breath, annoyed. Who would do this? Why frame me?
My lips twisted to the side as I tried to recall anyone I’d upset lately. Other than Zane, I couldn’t think of a single demon, or anyone else, that I’d even come close to irritating.
Well, except for Xai.
But while he was a superior asshole, he somewhat cared about mortality and wouldn't go around indiscriminately killing in this manner. He also seemed to be looking at me now with a touch of concern.
“You look like you’re thinking about my balls again,” he drawled.
Zane snorted as he entered the room with a cup of coffee in his hand. I’d almost forgotten he was still here. He’d disappeared into the kitchen shortly after Eve and Xai had returned, saying something about how they hadn’t been gone long.
He wasn’t wrong. Apparently, Gleason had received the call about the body, causing them to turn around and come right back here.
“Maybe you should go investigate the crime scene instead of tormenting Guinevere, Xai,” Zane suggested as he held the coffee mug out to me. “Here.”
I frowned at it, confused. “You made me coffee?”
“To go with your cake,” he replied. “I assumed that was your original intent?”
“Y-yes,” I stammered, accepting the cup from him. I wrinkled my nose. “You added cream?”
“And two sugars,” he said.
My brow furrowed. “You know how I take my coffee?”
“Of course I do.” His striking gaze went to Xai and Eve. “Well? Are you going to continue to pace about or go do something useful?”
