Demons Prefer Blondes (Demons Unleashed #1)(65)

“Deliver it,” Rafe said through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, Lamia turned around, her serpent tail swishing. She angled her gaze over her shoulder. “Belial wanted to tell you what a gracious guest your sister is. A pity for you, isn’t it?”

Ignoring the scaly bitch, Lucy gripped the dagger. “I have a message for Belial too,” she said, her voice calm yet firm. With cautious steps, she sauntered toward Miss Hiss. She raised her chin and stared her right in the eyes.

“I suppose I can play messenger for a bit.” Lamia grinned, her pointy teeth poking from her mouth. If only she could kick them out.

She bit her tongue, or she would’ve laid some not so pleasant words into this woman. Words she’d never dare speak in public. She’d put her family through hell. She angled a sidelong glance at the man who still stood strong and towering next to her. She’d put Rafe through hell. It was time to return the favor.

Rolling her eyes, she examined her blood red painted claws. They had manicurists in the bowels of hell. Fancy that. “Get on with it already. We don’t have all day.”

Lucy stood nose to nose with her, not even caring that her tail swished up her leg. “Oh yeah. Here’s my message.”

“Lucia…” Rafe cautioned.

Lucia? They were back to formalities again? No thanks to Lamia. She wouldn’t regret this one bit. It was fine to f*ck with her, but involving her friends and family was a whole different story.

“Spit it out.” Lamia’s eyes sparkled like two gaudy rubies.

Oh, she’d spit something out. Right in her smug face. With a quickness she was soon becoming acquainted with, Lucy yanked out the dagger and held it even with snake lady’s heart—if the cold-blooded bitch even had one. She could simply slam the weapon in and send her wherever it was she came from. But now wasn’t the time.

“I should kill you right now for everything you’ve done.” She twisted the knife into Lamia’s gauze-draped gown, her gaze blazing. “But you’re a tool, doing Belial’s dirty work.”

“Belial doesn’t control me!”

Lucy laughed. “Yet here you are, delivering his messages.”

“I wanted to see my old friend.” She whipped her tail from her leg and wrapped it around Rafe’s waist, yanking him up against her lithe body. She was deliberately egging her on—and by the narrowing of Rafe’s eyes, pissing him off. “I see why Amanda chose you. So strong and virile.”

She yanked her gaze back to Lucy, the gauche gems of her eyes still flickering. Curving her lips into a self-satisfied smile, she inched her tail near his equipment. She was going down now.

Lucy poised her hand steady, ready to strike.

“Lucy, don’t,” she heard amongst her swirling emotions. A female voice—her own voice. Her conscience. What a great time for her to make her presence known. Right when her dagger was ready to strike.

“Lucy, don’t,” Rafe echoed, taking her other hand in his. The heat and energy that radiated from him was no longer foreign, but welcome and comforting.

Lamia clapped her hands like a giddy schoolgirl. “Please tell me you haven’t fallen again, Deleon. You’re such a sap.”

“No,” Rafe replied. Despite the denial, he still gripped her hand in his. “I only care about my mission and protecting Lucia.”

“I’ve seen that hunger in your eyes before.” Lamia gazed down at the knife, still poised and ready. “When I sent my precious Amanda to you.”

Now she knew what this bitch was trying to do. No way in hell would she let her manipulate Rafe. She’d injured him enough. Lucy saw it in his eyes. They swirled like two giant storms whenever Lamia said Larissa’s real name. She also saw it when Lamia mentioned his sister. She had to stab this bitch right now.

And that’s what Lamia wanted her to do. Maybe she’d play for a bit; make her think she’d won. But the rage building inside told Lucy something else. She played with fire. Lucy twisted the dagger into the gauzy gown. “If you’re going to visit Michigan in December, try to fit in.” Lucy withdrew the dagger and re-sheathed it. “Next time wear a coat.”

Lamia threw her head back in laughter, the sound crackling in her ears. “The princess has a sense of humor. How divine.”

Princess? She’d been trying to absorb the whole day’s worth of events and it finally caught up with her. Her father was king. She was a princess. Not a princess of anything she’d want to admit to in public, but still a princess.

Bow to me, Lucia, Princess of the Sex Demons.

She wrinkled her nose. Nope, not something she wanted broadcast over the eleven o’clock news. And she wasn’t all that into the bowing thing, anyway. And now she was rambling again. Probably another of Lamia’s tricks. Evil bitch!

“I have more than a sense of humor, but I’ll save that for a different day.” Stuffing the dagger back into her jacket, she backed away. “And here’s my message to Belial: Fuck you.”

Short and to the point. Lucy’s sort of message. With that, she swiveled around and grabbed Rafe’s arm. “Let’s go. The stench here is making me want to yak up my lunch.”

“You don’t know who or what you’re dealing with, Lucia Anne Gregory! You’re making a grave mistake.”