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“Ma’am, you need to get in your car and go,” said an officer. “There is a terrorist cell inside. The bomb squad is on the way.”
“The guy makes suits. There aren’t any terrorists in there.”Unless you count the otherworldly creatures who may or may not be from hell.
“Ma’am, I said turn around and go.”
MF was about to drive away and find a side street to park on so she could sneak around back, but then she remembered something.I’m a fucking vampire! Woo-hoo!
“Hey, sir?” MF said. “I think there’s a piece of shrapnel in my eye. Can you take a look?”
He leaned in, squinting at her face.
She resisted the urge to chomp on him, but luckily, he smelled bad—as in, he was good. Not so tasty.
“Hello, nice man,” she said, hypnotizing him with her eyes. “You are going to walk me to that house. Tell everyone I’m here from…TPD, the Terrorist Peace Department.” Sounded like it could be a thing, right? The government had all sorts of cash-sucking useless departments these days. “Nod if you understand.”
He nodded.
“Great! Let’s go.” She marched toward the front of Damien’s modern-day palace with a breathtaking view of the glittering cityscape below. Once she got to the porch, she sent the officer away and put her hair up in a bun to protect it from the flames inside.
She leaned through the busted doorjamb. “Hello?” Where the hell were Maxton and Damien? Where was the posse? “Bonbon! Gorg! Pet! Are you here?”
Pet appeared drenched in sweat. “MF! You look very sexy as a vampire. May I stroke your fangs?”
“Pet, what the hell is happening?” MF pointed at the ball of fire just off the foyer.
“Oh, that. Cimil accidentally let a rage demon loose. She was supposed to put it in a new body, but it got away. Maxton is fighting it now. Not winning, by the way.”
MF should’ve known this had something to do with Cimil. That goddess was out of control!
“Um, sorry. But what the hell is a rage demon? Never mind.” Maybe it was better just to go and find out for herself. Probably not the brightest idea, given the state of the home, but Maxton was in here. She couldn’t lose him now!
MF entered the living room, which was demolished—every piece of furniture overturned and in flames, walls caved in, and parts of the ceiling missing, exposing the upstairs rooms. “Jesus.”
“Back it into that corner!” a man yelled from somewhere in the house.
“Don’t let him get away this time!” Maxton roared.
“We can’t let him leave!” yelled another guy.
“You come for the fun?” said a sharp female voice behind MF.
She turned her head to find Willa standing amongst the rubble near the kitchen, sipping a martini.
“What are you doing here?” MF asked.
“Waiting.”
“For?” MF asked.
“To finish my drink. Obviously. Duh…”
MF so wanted to snack on this bitch, but Willa wasn’t hers to end. That was—hopefully—Damien’s job. “I don’t know what he sees in you, but you’re definitely a waste of power.”
MF flipped up the collar on her leather jacket to protect her neck, cheeks, and ears and charged through the flames toward the voices into the formal dining area.
She skidded to a halt.Oh boy. I wasnotexpecting this.
Sky was in dirty lavender sweats, sitting on the floor and clinging to Damien’s head as he lay unconscious. Two men, both seven feet tall with turquoise eyes, were bloody and singed and trying to corral something bright red in the corner.
