Regardless, the thought of Guinevere’s lush thighs wrapped around the Nephilim made me want to castrate him. String him up by the balls from the highest rooftop and let the crows peck out his eyes.
I almost choked on my own hypocrisy.
Jealousy was unbecoming on anybody, but it felt especially uncomfortable to me. I didn’tdojealousy.
With a shake of my head, I stalked over to where Lord Zebulon spoke with Xai off to the side of the road, about ten feet away from the body.
“I agree with ignoring the robe for now,” Xai was saying as I approached. “I would venture to assume it’s a decoy. Perhaps the killer is hoping to bring about war among Hell’s realms?”
Lord Zebulon dipped his chin in agreement. “I had that thought, as well.” His gaze shifted to me. He read the look on my face, as he always could, then said, “Xai, would you excuse us for a moment?”
“Of course.” Xai walked over to stand behind Eve, who’d kneeled low over the body while she spoke with Gleason.
“What is it?” Lord Zebulon asked quietly.
I considered my words, and how to voice the concern I’d been feeling since we discovered this was no longer about Guinevere. “If the culprit knows we’re aware of Guinevere’s innocence, could she potentially be in danger? If this is all about you—a way todistractyou—what’s to stop this demon from hurting Guinevere next to further that distraction?”
“Hurting Guinevere would make trying to solve this crime moot because she wouldn’t be able to show up for her trial.”
“You’re assuming the end game is exonerating Guinevere,” I pointed out. “But doing so means solving this puzzle, which I imagine isn’t something the culprit actually wants.”
Lord Zebulon considered this for a moment, his gaze raking over the murder scene and the team of angels and Nephilim nearby. Nothing showed on his face—he was a master of his emotions, after all—but I caught the subtle tick behind his dark eyes as he thought through every strategic detail.
He cared for Guinevere as much as, if not more than, I did.
And he valued her safety, too.
“She’s alone,” I added softly. “And likely overcome by her guilt. She chose this man for death. Doing so weighed heavily on her prior to his murder. I imagine now…”
If he’d needed convincing, the idea of our dear succubus sitting alone with her guilt seemed to decide it for him. He nodded, his expression grave.
“Go to her,” Lord Zebulon finally said. “We’ll conclude our investigation here without you. I expect you to check in with me once you arrive.”
I bowed to him. “Yes, my lord.”
Leaving him behind with the others, I headed down the darkened sidewalk to where I’d parked my car. The theory that the killer intended to use Guinevere as a means of hurting Lord Zebulon had taken a firm root inside my mind, and I couldn’t shake the unease I felt. I didn’t want her to be alone any longer than she had to be.
Something ominous was coming.
Something meant to rattle the Demonic Lord of North America.
Something more than just setting up a succubus for murders she didn’t commit.
If the goal here was to hurt Lord Zebulon, then Guinevere would be a good start.
Which meant her life, and I supposed mine, could very well be in danger.
Chapter Twelve
Gwen
Being alone felt sinister.Wrong. Which made no sense because I’d asked everyone to leave. I’d never experienced this “off” sensation before, at least not here in the house with Gleason. It always felt like home. Safe. Happy, even.
But not tonight.
Tonight, something didn’t feel right.
Darkness lurked in the air. A presence I didn’t quite understand, but sensed in every step as I paced the hallway by the front door.
