Heart in her throat, Loren hurried toward the flickering glow of warm light halfway down the alley. Her breath tore apart her lungs in wild gasps. Singer’s hackles were raised, his warm side pressed up against her leg.
If they made a run for it, they might make it to the other end of the alley, toward the brightly lit street beyond. She wrapped the leash around her hand several times to keep from tripping on it.
She was almost beneath the glow of the bulb halfway down the alley. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her sweaty palm as dampening the leash. She was about to pick up speed when two more shadows crept into the mouth of the alley, blocking the path to the safety of the street up ahead.
She froze. There were four of them now.
With deadly clarity, she realized that she and Singer were being herded, and possibly had been for some time now.
The demons moved like a pack of wolves, orienting themselves around the one that was clearly their leader. They were hairless and walked on half-bent hind legs, their postures so hunched, their bony knuckles dragged on the ground before them. The lack of horns on their heads suggested these ones were younger—weaker than some that hunted the streets. But it made no difference to someone like her—they would kill her. And Singer, too. Guttural snarls shook from deep in their fleshy throats, the sound reminding Loren of the laughter of hyenas.
From somewhere far away, Loren saw herself sprinting to the wall, to the warm glow of the light she’d nearly passed. She moved so quickly she slammed into the bricks, directly below the flickering bulb. Singer growled, hackles raised, as he sank into a protective stance before her.
Her fingers shook as she reached into her bag for the pistol Darien had given her before they’d gone to Randal’s lair. There were too many demons for her to handle on her own, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. And they wouldn’t get to Singer. They wouldn’t touch him—not if she could help it.
The light mounted on the wall blinked rapidly, rendering her blind every time the glow waned as it threatened to go out entirely.
And the demons crept closer. Their throats made deep clicking sounds Loren understood was the pack’s form of communication. They had smooth, near-translucent skin and wide maws lined with razor-sharp teeth. Their eyes were nothing but depthless sockets, like stones had been pushed into their misshapen skulls.
The pistol shook in Loren’s hand as she pointed it at the two demons closest to her left. They were inching forward. Testing the ground where shadow ended and light began.
Loren used her free hand to dig her phone out of the pocket of her jeans, her fingers shaking so badly they barely cooperated.
The phone wobbled like jelly as she found his name under the Favorites category. And for the first time in nearly two weeks, she hit CALL.
—
“How does he win even when he’s distracted?” Jack muttered from where he sat across from Darien at the dining room table.
“The man’s a god,” Lace murmured sourly as she threw down her cards.
Ivyana threw hers down as well, where they nearly slid off the table. “How did he get all the brains in the family?”
Darien might’ve smiled, had he not been in such a foul mood. And hewasdistracted, it was true. He honestly had no clue how he’d won this last round of poker, but apparently, he had. Maximus suppressed a smile as he shoved the stacks of mynet his way, while Travis and Tanner, who sat on either side of Darien, grumbled under their breath.
Darien threw back the last of his whiskey. “I’m out.” He set down the empty glass and shoved his chair back. Of the stacks of mynet, he told them, “Keep it.” He was about to stand when his cellphone buzzed on the table.
Assuming it was someone he didn’t feel like talking to, he began to swipe left to reject the call—
But then he saw LOREN CALLA flashing on the screen.
The phone was at his ear instantly. “Loren.”
“I need help.” The panic in those words turned his blood to ice.
Six pairs of eyes snapped to his face, the Devils’ keen hearing picking up on that short, desperate sentence.
Darien was already heading for the door. “Where are you?”
“The Miracle Plaza.” Her breath rattled the phone. “I’m not far from Canopus Street. I’m in an alley…I’m not really sure where—” She broke off with a muffled swear word as Darien snatched his keys out of the bowl in the entrance hall. “Darien, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not answering your calls—”
“Never mind that now. I need you to breathe, Loren.” He thought he should take his own advice, for it felt like no air was entering his lungs. “I need you to focus. You’re going to be fine; do you hear me? I’m going to find and you, and you’re going to be fine.”
A whimper slipped through the phone as Darien shoved his feet into his boots and swung open the front door.
“Dare,” Maximus called. “You need help?”
Darien waved his hand in dismissal and swept out the door. “I need you to turn on the location services on your phone, Loren.” Gravel crunched under his boots as he sprinted to his car.
