If we were going for stealth, this was not our night.
“Gray, the safest place for you is here in the van,” Emilio said.
“You’re right,” I said plainly. “The vanisthe safest place for me.”
They gaped at me, clearly shocked that I'd agreed.
“Sitting out, staying out of harm’s way, letting other people fight my battles,” I said. “Definitely safer than jumping headfirst into a trap. But sorry, guys. That’s not what family does.”
Ronan opened his mouth to argue, but I held my hands up again, cutting him off. “Not up for debate.”
I expected more pushback, but surprisingly, they backed off.
“Okay, little brawler,” Darius said. “You say you know how to help Asher, and I’m willing to trust you on that. But you need to trust us, too. That means recognizing when you’re outclassed and not doing anything to put the rest of us at risk.”
“My main objective is Asher,” I assured him. “I’ll leave the carnage and mayhem to the pros.”
Darius smiled. “That’s all I wanted to hear, love.”
“Everyone clear on the plan?” Ronan asked, and we all nodded.
I still wasn’t a hundred percent surehowI was going to spring Asher from the devil’s trap—we hadn’t had a lot of prep time—but a hazy idea had begun to take shape in my mind the moment I’d seen that picture.
A demon’s soul was bound to hell, but the demon himself was still in physical possession of that soul. It lived in the demon’s body, for lack of a better way to describe it.
Liam had once told me that a person’s soul is his very essence. So if that theory held true for demons, then Asher’s soul—not his body—made him a demon.
A few more pieces clicked into place in my mind as I followed the logic. Devil’s traps only work on demons, and demons were only demons because of their souls. So the thing that was keeping Asher locked in that trap was his soul.
Remove that, and there’d be nothing holding him there.
After my experience with Travis, I was pretty sure I could get his soulout. The trouble would be getting it back in.
But… one crisis at a time. Too much longer in that trap, and Asher wouldn’t have a body left to return to.
“Alright. Let’s go,” I said, and we filed out of the van into the sopping wet night.
After a quick scan of the street to confirm we were alone, Emilio stripped naked, tossing his clothes back into the van and shutting the door. His golden skin gleamed in the moonlight, slick with water as rain ran in rivulets down his muscled chest, his abs, finally disappearing into the dark black hair below.
He was… impressive.
“¿Que pasa?” he said when he caught me looking. “No need to ruin perfectly good jeans. They cost a hundred bucks.”
I shook my head, biting back a smile. Emilio had to have known I was checking him out. Which meant he’d said that to cover for me.
Without further ceremony, he crouched down on the ground, his muscles bunching, then elongating. Bones snapped and reformed, and thick, black hair grew over his golden skin, transforming him from man to wolf.
Power clung to his form, sleek and muscular even beneath the thick coat of hair. His beauty made my breath catch.
He nudged my hand with his head, and I rubbed behind his ears, enjoying the feel of his coarse fur on my skin.
“Ready to roll?” Ronan asked, and I nodded, lowering my hand.
Don’t say goodbye,I reminded myself.You’ll see them again soon.
We went our separate ways, Emilio and Darius taking the street entrance while Ronan and I cut through a neighbor’s yard and hit the house from behind. Just past a cemented area set up with a grill and patio furniture, we found the back porch steps, and headed on up. I’d brought my stakes and hunting knife, and now I pulled out the knife, holding it close to my hip.
I was right—the wards were nonexistent—but so were the locks. We walked right through the back door and into the kitchen without issue.
