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Raze scowled. When it came to Sam’s fixation with that human thief of his, he wished his brother would go back to acting like any other soul’s guardian angel.
Some of the factions mingled with the humans. Raze preferred not to if he could avoid it, but with the success of their casino, he’d discovered that a mortal’s cash was just as good as a paranormal being’s; he wasn’t going to discriminate just because they were short-lived and magic-free. So long as the humans were willing to spend, he was willing to take their money, and the business-minded Raze left it at that.
House of Sin was still a faction-owned and operated facility. Located on the third floor of the Twilight Sphere hotel in the heart of the City of Sin, Raze opened their doors to anyone, though a majority of their customers were paranormal; his staff was completely faction, mostly angel, with shifters, witches, sirens, and other beings reporting to his management team.
The casino wasn’t the only faction-run building in the hotel. There was the Twilight Bar & Grille, the Twilight Nights Club, the Café, and the Twilight Sweets Bakery owned by a curvy fairy named Rhea and her petite demoness partner, Ariel.
Speaking of Ariel—
Taking the phone from Cael, Raze snapped his name. “Raze speaking.”
“Raze. Hi. It’s me. Ariel. You know… from the bakery?”
Though he wasn’t a big dessert guy, Ariel was a whizz when it came to making cupcakes. She also had a way with a paintbrush. He actually had one of her paintings hanging in his living room up in his suite. When he commissioned it from her, he’d offered her as much money as she wanted, but she wasn’t interested in monetary payment. Proving she learned very well from her fairy partner, Ariel requested a favor instead.
“Let me guess,” he drawled. “This is about your favor.”
“You got it.”
That was fine with Raze. He hadn’t liked being in debt to anyone, especially—if he was being honest—a demoness. Ariel was born that way, so she belonged to the demon faction instead of being one of Lucifer’s, but still. He was an angel, and some prejudices died hard.
“Whatever it is, you got it.”
“Now, I know that you said the favor’s not transferable, so I understand if you won’t help her, but I’ve got this friend. A pretty redhead who’s in need. She’s convinced the only one who can help her is an angel and, I thought, I know a guy. If anyone can do what she needs, it’s Raze.”
As if he wasn’t already aggravated with his two brothers, now this. Turning away from Cael and Micah, he said gruffly into the warded phone, “What is it she needs from me?”
“Well, that’s really her story to tell.”
“Then I don’t see—”
“Five minutes,” chirped Ariel in her high-pitched voice. “That’s all I’m asking for. She’s going to be down at the Twilight Bar at seven tonight. She’s a real redhead, but I don’t think you can miss her anyway. Talk to her for five minutes, see what she has to say, and that’s your favor. Deal?”
A deal with a demoness? Well, it was better than owing a favor.
“Fine,” he relented. “Tell your friend I’ll meet her at seven. She gets five minutes of my time and that’s your favor done.”
He could hear the way she was beaming through her words as she said, “Ah. You’re the best, Raze.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He hung up the phone, passing it back to Cael.
“What was that about?” asked Micah.
“That was Ariel.”
“From the bakery?”
How many Ariels did he know? “Yeah. She has a friend who wants a favor from an angel. I’ll give her five minutes, then head out to the casino. See if you can track down Sam, and I’ll meet you on the floor. Okay?”
“Sounds good, Raze.”
“Oh. And Micah?”
“Yeah?”
“Try not to blow up any more phones.”
