Demons Prefer Blondes (Demons Unleashed #1)(14)

“Fine.” After all, it did beat a thumb war. Lucy held out her fist, waiting for her friend to return the favor. Smiling, she nudged Serah’s with her own.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” they both chanted. Lucy held her hand in perfect scissor position.

Serah, unfortunate gal, held out her paper hand. A large pout quivered on her lips as a loud whoosh of air came from her nose. “I knew I should have called rock.”

“Oh well,” Lucy said with a smirk. Glancing at the dim, reddening moon, she narrowed her eyes. “You know, the moon is getting creepier.”

“I looked up some websites earlier. That’s just the Earth’s reflection.” Serah craned her head to look. “But you’re right. It is creepy.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy said. “So how much longer?” She snuck a glance at the chest, her gut clenching. Not in fear but something more carnal. Like it contained a treasure trove of toys, and not the kind that you give a kid. Had it been that long that she now craved inanimate objects? She needed help.

“Like now,” her friend replied. “It’s two-twenty-five, according to my watch.” Serah held up her hand and twisted her wrist, sparkles glistening against the dimmed lights of the salon. Oh brother, yet another crazy purchase. But if you have the money, you might as well spend it.

“New watch?”

Serah shrugged. “It belonged to my granny. Just wanted to wear it for some reason.”

Lucy smiled and hugged her friend, allowing her comfort. Even though her grandmother had died almost a year ago, Serah still mourned from time to time. It wasn’t her business to pry, but Serah dealt with her grief the only way she could. And truth be told, Lucy wasn’t a psychologist anyway. Much to Mom’s chagrin, of course.

“Let’s do this,” Lucy said, pulling from their friendly embrace. With a quick lick of her lips, she focused her attention back to the chest.

As if a golden orb had surrounded it, the chest glowed. Her body ignored her conscience, disregarding what she knew to be wrong or right. Lucy took slow, almost sensual, steps toward the box. Her lips spread into a devious smile as warmth enveloped her. Never had she felt so alive. Her stomach twisted in knots and her insides throbbed. She had to touch it, and no one would stop her.

Serah’s concerned voice faintly echoed in her mind. “Lucy, are you okay? You’re acting strange.” She reached out to grab her hand.

“I am fine,” Lucy gritted out, digging her nails into Serah’s palm. “I know what I’m doing.” The bad thing was she actually did, but she had no idea how she knew.

“Ouch, that hurts,” Serah yelped and pulled her hand from her superhuman grip. “We should forget this, Lucy. Something isn’t right.”

Lucy turned to face her friend and narrowed her eyes, her glare challenging. With a wide, calculated grin, she reached up to brush a stray hair from Serah’s brow. “No, Serah. Everything is just right.”

With that, she slammed her palm into the handprint and closed her eyes.





Chapter 4


Rafael pushed into the mortal realm, pulling himself from the shadows. He dusted off his black leather trousers and cursed Dominic for dressing him like a bloody biker. Taking in the scene before him, his stomach lurched. The moon hung low in the sky, full and taunting, as if it knew the direness of the situation and welcomed it.

Blasted moon.

Pulling the antique watch from the inner pocket of his black leather pea coat, he flipped it open. He needed to act, and fast. He took long, purposeful strides toward Lucia’s shop. Peering into the window, he groaned. She wasn’t alone.

With a low growl, he clenched his fists. He was no longer welcome in her shop, and she had yet to call for him. He needed in—now. Before it was too late. He raised his fist to rap on the front door.

“Rafe,” came the haunting voice, floating in the air. “Save me… please.”

Coby. His only weakness. His only reason for living the life of the damned. He gulped down the lump in his throat. Curse the angels for giving them each a weakness. It was inevitable that his twin sister would be his. Clenching his fists, he turned toward the sound of her heavenly voice. Yes, she may have been a demon, but her voice belied her species.

“Over here, Rafe,” her voice drifted in the air, luring him across the street. “I need you. Please! Before Belial returns.”

The thought of his sister at Belial’s mercy—even though the fiend more than likely didn’t possess any—spurred him onward. He jogged across the street, following the sound of his sister’s voice.

“Coby?” he called, keeping steady with each movement. “Where are you?”

Her laughter filled the air.

Laughter? She was being held by Belial and she was laughing? The hair at the back of his neck pricked. He clenched his teeth and dug his fingers into his palms. Something wasn’t right.

“Behind you, brother.”

Spinning on his heels, he did what they called a complete one-eighty in this time. Her silver hair whipped around her head as she floated above the ground, her silver gossamer gown fluttering at her feet. A dress? Coby never wore dresses, even though she looked stunning in them. Her eyes, usually silver sparks with life, reminded him of dull pewter.

“Took you long enough, brother.” Her voice, no longer wispy, grated in his ears. Curse his hide, he’d been duped. Before he could reply, Coby lunged at him, her features molding into something more primal.