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Prologue Two
“Noooooooo!” I roared, my back bowing as I realized that my enemies had found my woman and killed her. “Lucifer!” I screamed, shaking my fist. “Where the fuck are you?”
No answer.
Not a surprise there. That crazy fucker only showed up when he wanted something, usually his contract signed in blood.
“Come on!” I shouted. “You know what I want.”
Silence. Wind.
“Fuck!” I cursed, kicking at a rock.
I rode into the desert after Cindi’s funeral earlier today, pissed off, almost letting my Reaper free to hunt down whoever hurt the mother of my child.
My chest ached, and my lungs burned with every breath I took, knowing that Cindi wasn’t here and my daughter had to live and grow up without her mother.
Hatred, rage, and a need to eviscerate pulsed in my veins. I needed retribution, not inaction.
“Lucifer!”
Just when I thought that crafty motherfucker wouldn’t show, he popped into existence in front of me, leaning against the hood of a bright cherry red Ferrari.
“I do hate being summoned when I’m in the middle of a race.”
Yeah, right.
Lucifer picked at his suit, arranging the jacket, so it perfectly draped his trim, athletic physique. He seemed to like this form the most, showing up either on a motorcycle or in a sports car. No matter what, he was all swagger.
His grin widened when he heard my thoughts, going wider than possible for a human mouth.Fucking freaky.
“Feeling inadequate?” he guessed, highly amused.
“Fuck you.”
“Ouch. If I thought you meant it, I’d oblige.”
Whatever.
“You know,” he began casually, “If you’re pissed about Cindi, just go reap some souls. I’m always hungry.”
“Already did that,” I managed to say through clenched teeth. How he managed to irritate me whenever I saw him was beyond me. I think he excelled at that skill, along with deception. “You know why I called for you.”
