Sabrine had been missing for over two weeks. Loren couldn’t erase the feeling that too much time had passed; that they were too late. With a steadying breath, she stared at the amber stripe of sunlight hugging the dark desert mountains in the distance, begging the eight deities of the Scarlet Star that Sabrine would return home safely—and soon.
These past few days, she’d learned that Sabrine was not the only person who’d gone missing. A week before Sabrine disappeared, nineteen-year-old werewolf Chrysantha Sands had been reported missing to the police. Loren didn’t think the cases were linked in any way, considering Sabrine had only been abducted because the Darkslayer and the warlock hadn’t been able to reach the target they were really after. But tonight’s vigil was for them both.
“Any idea where we might find your friend?” Darien asked as they maneuvered the crowd. He was wearing a black button-up shirt with the sleeves pinned at the forearms, dark blue jeans, and wingtip boots. Yet despite the more casual look, Loren didn’t doubt there was at least one weapon on him. If she hadn’t been so distracted by thoughts of Sabrine, she might’ve gawked at him like an idiot. He was ridiculously gorgeous.
“Not really. Somewhere near the front, I guess.”
Shedidend up finding Dallas right near the front of the crowd, where people were leaving candles and other items of sentimental value around two framed photographs, one of Sabrine and one of Chrysantha Sands.
Dallas’s sheet of red hair was loose today, the slightly curled ends falling several inches past the hem of her black leather jacket, the back of which was embroidered with a witch’s symbol of protection. She was crouching down to set her own candle on the sidewalk, along with a bouquet of lilies, Sabrine’s favorite flower.
Dal’s keen witch’s senses alerted her to Loren’s approach, and she lifted herself to her feet, dashing away tears. Beneath the jacket, she wore a white crop top that readWitch Bitchin glittery scrawl. Her jeans rode low on her hips, and the six-inch leather pumps on her feet were redder than her hair.
Dallas faced Loren and forced a smile. “Hey.” She took in Loren’s white shirt with the plunging V-neck and bell sleeves, the hip-hugging blue jeans, and wedge heels. “You look nice.” As if remembering something, she scanned the crowds behind Loren. “I thought you said Darien was coming.”
Loren turned around to see that he was gone. Sometimes that man moved as silently as a ghost. “He must’ve run into someone.”
Dallas’s eyes zeroed in on the tattered elephant that was squished between Loren’s arm and ribs. “I see you found Stumpy.” She laughed sadly. The stuffed animal was missing one of its button eyes and had fluff sticking out of its seams.
Loren shrugged, her throat tightening at the memory of her fifth birthday party, when she’d torn the wrapping paper off a box to find a brand-new Stumpy inside. “I thought Sabrine would like it if I brought him out into the world again. I stopped at the penthouse when Taega was gone and found him in the old toy chest.”
Dallas’s brows flicked up. “You’re lucky she hasn’t caught you sneaking about,” she tsked. Before Loren could say anything, Dallas spoke again. “Did Darien say if he’s followed that lead the graverobber gave him?”
“Not yet,” Loren sighed. “But I overheard him talking with the others, and it sounded like they’re going to see Cain tonight—”
Dallas’s attention was snagged by something—or someone—behind Loren. Loren let her sentence trail off as the witch’s mouth literally popped open.
“Oh. My.Gods.”Judging from the smile on Dallas’s glossy lips, Loren knew exactly who she was looking at. “That’s them, isn’t it?”
At Dallas’s use of the wordthem,Loren turned around and followed her gaze.
Darien was heading this way, but he wasn’t alone. At his side was Maximus. The two wore identical deadly gazes that picked apart the sea of bodies, despite that every person at the vigil was moving aside as much as possible to give them a wider berth.
As soon as the two Devils were within acceptable hearing range, Dallas put her hands on her hips and looked them over, one at a time. “It seems Loren didn’t do you two quite enough justice when she told me how hot you guys are.”
Loren’s mouth popped open in horror. She dropped her gaze to the sidewalk, blushing hard.
She wanted to kick Dallas in the head for saying that. Kick her and pull her hair.
It was Darien who spoke first, for the infamous Maximus Reacher was at a loss for words, gaping at Dallas like a fish washed up on land. It was sort of adorable, Loren had to admit. “You must be Dallas,” Darien said, extending a hand toward the witch.
Dallas shook it, Darien’s hand dwarfing hers. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Darien Cassel,” she said with the quirk of a copper eyebrow. The appreciation in her eyes sharpened as her gaze flicked to Darien’s best friend. “And you must be—hold on, let me guess…Maximus Reacher.” Several people within hearing range sidled away from the mentioning of these two names.
Maximus still couldn’t find words. Darien clapped him on the back so hard it looked like it hurt, and said, “Max seems to have forgotten how to talk to women.”
Max shook his head, as if waking from a daze, and extended a hand to Dallas. “Pleasure to meet you, Dallas.”
Dallas was beaming at him as she shook his hand for longer than what was necessary. “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”
Across their tight circle, Darien caught Loren’s eye and gave her a little smile she found difficult to return.
Her face instantly reddened from the attention, and she broke their eye contact by focusing on the fine silver chains he always wore around his neck. Avoiding him made her a coward, she knew. But she wasn’t feeling up to their usual staring contests, especially not when it involved something other than glaring at each other in annoyance. She wasn’t certain what, exactly, had been written in his expression a moment ago, but it seemed to carry a weight she felt she couldn’t bear tonight.
Darien was still staring at her. She could feel it, but she refused to look up.
A moment later, he cleared his throat. “Does Sabrine have family here?”
Dallas locked eyes with Loren, her frown mirroring the one she now wore. “I doubt it,” Dallas said.
