Demons Prefer Blondes (Demons Unleashed #1)(97)
Flapping his wings, Gerardo bound into the air. With a quick flick downward, he descended and motioned to Frankie to join him. “Hop on.”
“You gotta be joking,” Frankie squeaked. “Honey, I like you… but not that much.”
Fists clenched, Gerardo drew his lip straight. “This isn’t a joke. Do you want to help Lucy or not?”
“When you put it that way, how can I refuse?” With a quick jog, he bounded toward Gerardo and grabbed a bunch of feathers from his shirt. Flinging a leg over Gerardo’s back, he climbed on. “I’ll just imagine I’m Perseus riding Pegasus in Clash of the Titans.”
“Whatever floats your boat. Now hold on tight, it’ll be a wild ride.” Without a further utterance, Gerardo flapped his wings and burst up toward the heavens, a streak of dust following in his wake.
“Ooooh-weeeeee!” Frankie’s voice echoed in the distance.
Now came the bigger task. Breaking through Belial’s block. He turned his gaze to Kalli, who paced the snow-blanketed road, her footprints converging on one another. Fists clenched, she grumbled. “Fuck it. I’m calling in the Fore-Demons.”
“No, you’re not,” Rafael growled, grabbing her by the lapels of her trench coat. His gaze blazed. To call in the elders signified defeat. He hadn’t failed Lucy yet. Scratch that. He would not fail her. “I’ll call in Dominic. The three of us should be able to break through the block.” The flame firmly burning beneath his ass, he closed his eyes. “Dominic Duvane!”
“Whoa, buddy,” Kalli said, waving him off with her hands. “Take it easy.”
Rafael unlaced his fingers from leather, smoothing out the wrinkles along the lapel. “Sorry. I just—”
“Love her?” Kalli’s lips swept into a devious smile.
He kept his emotions as tamped down as possible. “I’m supposed to protect her.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Rafe.”
A fierce burst of wind rushed in, sending a knotty strand of Kalli’s hair in a violent barrage against her face. Ice-cold crystals sliced through the air as the winds continued their wanton spinning. Dominic, gaze narrowed, swiped a few snowflakes from his leather-clad arm. Clutching the sword at his side, he scanned the area. “Need help, huh?”
Rafael wasted no words. Time was near extinction. “Belial’s blocked the area. We need your help.”
“If we concentrate, we can push through the block. All three of us are strong enough. Rafe especially, more than he realizes.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow in bemusement. “Oh, is that so?”
“Kalli thinks I’m the chosen.” Rafael snorted. Him? Chosen? But it was supposed to be Coby. He balled his fists. And it still would be. Rafael had never been so sure of anything in his life. He didn’t want to be chosen. He wanted to be loved… by Lucy.
Lucy. Who knew in a matter of a few days he could grow so attached. Who knew a saucy minx of a beautician could wrap him around her finger and then some. Who knew he’d fall in love again. He certainly didn’t.
He’d tried to blame his initial attraction on the untapped sexual energy she radiated. But it wasn’t that at all. This attraction went deeper, under his skin, to his loins… and straight to his heart. Blast it all. He had to save her. His sanity depended on it.
“What are we waiting for?” he barked. “Let’s do this.”
***
Belial, in his swirl of cinnamon and brimstone, hovered over her, the sickening smirk still wide across his face. Had she not been cuffed in silver, she would’ve gladly rearranged that annoying smile.
His long clawed finger traced a lock of hair from her face, sending shivers of revulsion worming their way through every receptor in her body. “I feel your tremors. Excited, are you?”
“Oh, don’t you wish.”
His eyes sparked gold and he clucked his tongue. Lamia stood to his right, arms snaked around each other, annoyance etched firmly into her face. Another countenance she wouldn’t mind reshaping.
“Is that any way to talk to your betrothed, m’dear?” His words, intended to be smooth as honey, scraped like a Brillo pad.
“I’d rather marry lump of steaming horseshit than you.” Lucy jutted her chin out. “Smells better, too.”
Belial shrugged, grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up to face him. His gaze burned like two giant amber flames. A look that would normally send people trembling in their boots only filled her with anger. She clenched her fists, silently cursing the silver cuffs that still bound her wrists.
“So you’re truly part succubus?” His fingertip traced down her cheek and slithered down her neck. Her skin crawled. He threw his head back and chortled, the sound slicing into her eardrums.
Fuck him. It was him and his stupid Infernati that had put her in this mess. She would give this man—demon, rather—a piece of her mind, and, hopefully, more. “What’s it to you, cinna-stank-licious?”
“Everything!” His voice boomed, echoing through the clearing. The tiny pink-trimmed chapel shook in protest. Lucy blinked. Hell had a chapel?
Rubbing her eyes, she scanned the area, surprisingly bright so late at night. Where was all that light coming from?
She spun around. Tall wooden totems with hideously painted faces stood surrounding a rock-lined fire pit. Sitting right in the middle of that pit was that damned—and she meant it in the most literal of ways—chest. She was more than ready to send it back from whence it came. If it weren’t for that chest, the scene would’ve been funny. Like a deleted scene from The Brady Bunch’s Hawaii vacation. Bad juju for sure.