A breeze picked up, rustling her hair. “Looks like I might finally get some answers about where I came from.” She sounded as frightened as she felt. Her whole life had been spent not knowing where she came from or who her parents were. And although she’d always longed for answers, a part of her was scared to know.
Darien must’ve picked up on the unsteady pulsations of her heart, for his eyes softened in understanding. “Your past doesn’t define you, Lola. Remember that.”
Darien’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Loren couldn’t help but bristle, the tension from before they’d come to the National still lingering. It seemed he was getting a lot of phone calls tonight, or perhaps she was just imagining that it was more than usual. Her fear that he would leave at any moment was a tangible thing, and one she was worried he could sense.
He answered the incoming call with a muffled, “Cassel.”
Loren was standing close enough to Darien that she could hear the deep voice on the other end—the voice of Casen Martel, the Butcher—say, “Devil’s Advocate, Witching Hour. This is your only chance.” A pause, and then he added before hanging up, “And bring the girl.”
35
Darien stood in the kitchen at Hell’s Gate with Max and Travis as they waited for the others to finish getting ready so they could head to the Devil’s Advocate. Lace was standing in front of the gilt mirror in the entrance hall, perfecting her lipstick, and Tanner was lounging on the couch in the sitting room, looking like he’d much rather go to sleep than head to a nightclub.
Logan and Sabrine would be meeting them at the Advocate, for the alpha had insisted on being kept in the know regarding anything that might lead to Chrysantha. Usually, Darien preferred to keep the dealings of his Devils on the downlow, but if anyone was owed a favor it was Logan. And if the tables were turned, and it was Ivy who’d gone missing, Darien would’ve wanted the same thing done for him. Plus, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of eyes in a place like the Advocate. There was always shady shit going down there, and he would need as little distractions from Loren and their goal of witnessing the BP deal as possible.
“You think this’ll work?” Travis asked, spinning around a beer bottle by its neck on the kitchen island and nearly tipping it over in the process.
Darien shrugged. “Baylor has a thing for mortal women,” he said, feeling sick to his stomach as the filthy words rolled off his tongue. Using Loren in this way… She’d agreed to every part of this plan, but just because she was willing to help them didn’t make him feel any better about it. “It’s our best chance at seeing who’s buying all those chemicals and Blood Potions.”
Max, picking up on Darien’s tension, said, “Relax, Dare. She’ll be fine.”
Darien threw back the dregs of his beer. He’d hoped the drink would relax him, but it seemed to only make him more agitated. Hopefully there wasn’t a Surge on his horizon any time soon. “I know,” he said. “But just because I know she’ll be fine doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Max made to say something else, but the sound of heels clicking on the floor stilled his tongue.
Ivy, Dallas, and Loren were coming down the stairs, Jack trailing behind them. All three of the girls were dressed to the nines, in clothing that left very little to the imagination. But it was Loren that made Darien’s heart stop in his chest. Stop and then start again, the rhythm erratic and borderline painful.
Her outfit—if you could even call it that—consisted of two pieces cut from sheer fabric that reminded him of a star-dusted night sky. The crop-top was held in place with ultra-thin straps, the top itself barely covering her breasts, and it tied up at the back in a criss-cross pattern. The skirt was ankle-length with a slit that exposed the sweep of her left leg, right up to the hip. Her eyes were lined in kohl, the lids dusted with a color so dark it was almost black. She wore her hair down, the slightly curled ends brushing the small of her back.
Forcing himself to tear his eyes off her, Darien leaned on the island, pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, and swore under his breath.
Travis chuckled.
“You’re just loving this, aren’t you?” Darien muttered without looking at his cousin. Still pinching the bridge of his nose, he glanced up, but he was looking at Max as he shook his head and said, “I don’t think I can do this. I’m going to get into a fight with the first guy who looks at her.”
“No, you’re not,” Max said. He drained the last of his beer and reached over to set the bottle in the sink. “Because that’s exactly the kind of attention we don’t need. If you go around breaking jaws, you’ll clear the place out within minutes. What we need is for Baylor to notice her just enough to bring her into the back.”
“Which hewill,”Travis cut in, an overconfident grin slashing across his face. “Hell,I’dlike to take her into the back.”
Darien let his hand drop from his face, rings clanging against the countertop, and straightened to full height. “You want to be the first guy I fuck up, get in line,” he threatened.
Travis held up his hands in surrender, though he was still laughing under his breath.
Baylor ran the Devil’s Advocate for Randal Slade. It was the filthiest, most dangerous nightclub in the whole city, and it was armed with such a powerful forcefield that not even Tanner could break through it—at least, not without some help. The Butcher had told Darien that the Blood Potions Syndicate often dealt in the back rooms of the Devil’s Advocate. In order to witness the deal, and who was looking to purchase BP and chemicals in such ridiculously high numbers, they would need to get into those back rooms.
And Loren was their key. Their beautiful, mortal key.
Darien didn’t like it. Not one bit. He would’ve preferred if the Butcher had simply known who was buying his shit from him, instead of doing all this extra legwork.
Max shoved away from the island and clapped Darien on the back. “Go talk to her or something and break the tension.” He checked his watch. “We need to leave soon.”
It took Darien longer to gain the courage to go over and talk to Loren than it would have if she were any other woman. But after a moment, he steeled himself and strode into the entrance hall, to where Loren was speaking quietly to Ivy and Dallas. Loren was likely receiving the downlow from Ivy, who Darien had asked to fill Loren in on exactlywhatthey would need to do to get Baylor’s attention.
Darien had to admit, it was a rather…unsavory plan. But it was their only choice. Now, he would find out if Loren would decide to back out of the plan after hearing about all those unsavory details or go forward with it.
Ivy caught sight of Darien approaching and pulled Dallas aside, leaving him alone in the entrance hall with Loren, Lace and Jack also having taken their leave a moment ago. As Ivy and Dallas passed him, Ivy gave Darien an encouraging smile he was too unsettled to return.
When Loren turned to face him, she was trembling delicately, her fingers interlocking before her. Darien had to resist the urge to reach for her; to stop her from teetering in those sky-high heels; to gather her into his arms and never let her go. Gods, she was even more breathtaking up close.
