Demons Like It Hot (Demons Unleashed #2)(23)

“Sounds good. Pleasure doing business.”

Serah nodded, grabbed her cell phone, and mashed the familiar numbers.

“Hello?” Kalli’s voice boomed.

“Kalli. I need someone to pick up a delivery from the clothing store. Can you do it?”

“What’s up?”

“Something came up and this store is about to close.”

“Fine.”

“Thanks! I owe you.”

“Lucy told me about all your IOUs.”

“Whatever, bye.” She clicked the phone shut and shoved it in her purse. She knew she’d been a little short with Kalli. She’d make it up to her later. With that, she opened the door and rushed outside.

The odor clung to the air, burning her nostrils. Her stomach lurched. Like the reek of a giant sack of broccoli and cauliflower gone bad, it would not dissipate. A rotten egg or stink bomb here and there, that she could handle. This scent, however, made the River City sewer system smell like roses. She scooted against the cold concrete wall, her steps stealthy.

Armed with an unexpected burst of confidence, she crept toward the alley, the odor acting like a beacon, drawing her closer.

On quiet tiptoes, she rounded the corner. Ready and alert, she scanned the dark alleyway. Shadowy figures paced back and forth, sizing each other up.

A creepy chuckle chilled her to the core. Evil. Her heart pounded in her chest. Shivers of energy crackled through her. She stood alert… ready. What the hell was going on?

“Would you rather thank God?” The voice, low and sinister, sent her hair prickling on end.

The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the alley. A hint of silver flickered in the moonlight. Matthias’s voice boomed. “I’d rather thank myself.”

What the heck? Thank himself? Why exactly was he here? Serah clenched her fists. She should have known. It was only about his own advancement. At least Rafe had a reason when he came here.

“You could always thank me, you know. I’m the one who made you a cold-blooded killer.”

“I’ve never killed anyone in cold blood. Everyone I’ve fought or killed deserved their fate.”

“So much for that. You’ve gone soft.”

“No, I’ve grown smart.”

“Hardly.”

She scooted along the wall, edging closer. Maybe Nonni’s watch still had some juice left in it. Please?

Scrape! The sound of her heels grinding against pebbles screeched in her ears. Oh, hell no. She scurried backwards. Away from the two demons.

A heavily muscled arm encircled her, pulling her against a brick wall—at least that’s what it felt like. Stony and cold. “Look what we have here.” The voice, deep and sardonic, sent her blood curdling and her stomach heaving. Maybe it was his cologne—or lack of it. “You have upheld your end of the bargain.”

“What bargain?” Serah breathed out.

“You’ll have to ask Matthias,” he whispered, his fetid breath inching along her ear. “Pretty little thing.” He took a strand of hair and curled it around a talon. Sniffing along her neck, he licked his chops. “Good enough to eat.”

The only thing this monster would be eating was a knuckle sandwich. Preferably one served up by her.

She angled a glance toward Matthias. Lips firm and straight, his facade remained stony and indifferent. His dagger was poised, and his intense glare never wavered. What the hell was he doing? Was this all a sick twisted plan? And she’d walked right into their trap. She should’ve known he was too good to be true.

“Are you just going to stand there? You’re a bodyguard. Do something.”

His lips curved slightly into a frown. “I can’t.”

“What the hell?”

The demon’s grip grew tighter. “He really can’t.” He yanked her head to face him. Lips spread wide into a sardonic smile, and his green cat-eyes glinted. “He never finished his last mission.”

She had to do something. Matthias, standing there like a giant pile of granite, wasn’t helping. He obviously had his own agenda. Whatever it was, at this particular point she didn’t care.

“The package was delivered. Let her go.”

“Not to my boss’s specifications.”

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the watch. Perhaps Nonni could guide her and help her out of this mess. After all, she’d helped her out of the dressing room.

And into this walking septic tank’s arms. Then again, she’d done that all by herself. Luckily for her, his scent wasn’t nearly as bad as the last Infernati prick who manhandled her—but not by much. Then again, the more evil you were, the bigger the stink. Made perfect sense.

Serah closed her eyes. Maybe she could channel Nonni again. She had to get out of here. Please, Nonni?

Accept your destiny. Her grandmother’s soothing voice echoed in the breeze. Not this destiny shit again. Even in death, her Nonni’s words always remained cryptic.

Don’t deny yourself like I did. Swear to me.

So she had. Anything to ease her grandmother’s suffering.

But since then, her grandmother’s words haunted her. Almost as if she were there in her mind, spurring her on. Catering was her destiny, though. She had loved cooking, ever since she was a child. Cooking was in her blood—not all this purity stuff. What a crock.