I sensed Jael felt the same way.
Elena returned from the living room, pulling on her jacket and gloves. “That was Lansky. We just got a hit on Norah Hanson’s credit card.”
“What does that mean?” Jael asked, reaching for another cookie.
“It means you’d better get a doggy bag, Prince.” I grabbed the plate out from under his hand and rose from the table. “We’ve got a rogue witch to track down.”
Ten
Gray
It felt like someone had pulled the plug on my soul, and now I was being sucked down into oblivion, crushed by the weight of too much gravity as I spun and swirled and vanished down some ancient cosmic drain.
But just when I feared my bones would be pulverized, the spinning stopped, and I was breathing again, gulping down the precious air I’d been deprived of. I was alive.
And I was back on the material plane.
When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself resting on cloud-fluffy bedding, gazing up at a pristine white ceiling fitted with a stainless-steel fan that gently stirred the air. I’d been bathed and dressed in soft stretch pants and a loose gray hoodie that smelled like… like Ronan.
Like home.
God, how I wanted to close my eyes and sink back into that dream—the one where none of this was real. Where my rebels and I had never left the safe house, and instead spent our days cooking meals together and drinking good wine and playing Scrabble and making love. So much hot, passionate, incredible, amazing love in a bed big enough for the whole pack.
My core ached to think of it.
But despite the softness of his sweatshirt and the luxurious sheets beneath me, this was no dream. I’d just been betrayed by someone I trusted and evicted from hell, only to end up in a fancy hotel room I could never afford even if Ihadn’tlost my job at Waldrich’s Imports.
Everything about Blackmoon Bay, about my old life, felt like it belonged to someone else.
And now, so did I.
I let out a tired sigh. The Prince of Hell would be expecting me soon, if he wasn’t already. This hotel was probably his property.
Just like me.
Welcome to the first day of the end of your life, Gray Desario.
I waited another beat for the tingling in my arms and legs to subside, then sat up slowly, leaning back against a sleek ebony headboard. The room spun again, and when it finally righted, something else came into sharp focus.
The sight of him stole my breath all over again.
“Ronan,” I gasped.
He stood at the foot of the bed in dark jeans and a black v-neck tee that clung to his muscles, a dark shadow of a beard lining his jaw, his hair practically begging for me to run my fingers through it. I wanted to touch him. To feel his hands and mouth on me.
But something was… different. His face had been bruised, with new, pink scars cutting across his jaw. His rigid, unmoving form was flanked by two terrifying canine beasts I recognized from our previous run-ins. There was no mistaking the matted, coal-black fur, the razor-sharp teeth, the glowing red eyes.
Hellhounds.
Despite the frightening and unexpected appearance of the hounds, a surge of gratitude swept over me. Ronan was here. Alive. He’d made it through the hell portal, and I’d made it back to him, and even if we only had one minute to say our goodbyes, I’d take it.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“Ronan,” I said, finding my full voice. “It’sdamngood to see you.”
But Ronan wasn’t smiling at me in return, or moving to capture me in a passionate kiss, or reaching for his phone to call Emilio and let him know I was okay. He was just standing there, still as a statue, his eyes blazing with fury while the hounds growled menacingly at his sides.
Ronan waited a beat. Two. Three. Made sure I’d finally seen the anger flashing in his eyes. Then, those beautiful hazel eyes that used to look at me as though I were the only person in the universe that mattered, turned demon black.
