The Devil In Disguise (Bad Things #1)(19)

Oh, damn.

“Happens when I’m angry. It’s not exactly safe to be around me when I’m enraged.”

Right. She already had a mental note going for that one.

“And it happens when I’m aroused.” If possible, his gaze heated even more. “Just so you know, dear Mina, turns out…you arouse me one hell of a lot.”

Before she could speak, there was a fierce pounding from inside—a pounding at her door. Or rather, at Luke’s bedroom door. He whirled away from her and ran back inside.

She followed on his heels, wondering what was happening—and also feeling real grateful for her reprieve.

“Luke!” A man’s voice called. “Get decent and open the door! We have a situation!” A slightly clipped, accented voice. British?

Luke yanked open the door.

A tall, dark-haired man stood there, faint stubble covering his square jaw. “Sorry to interrupt…” His golden stare cut to her.

Gold. Like the panther. It wasn’t the same shade of gold that glowed in Luke’s eyes. Luke’s stare was nearly a yellow-gold, very bright when his power surged. But that British guy’s stare—it was softer, deeper. Not nearly as intense. Or scary.

“But I thought you’d want to know something is happening at Eli’s place,” he added.

“Fuck me, not my whiskey.” Luke said immediately. “He just got in the new shipment!”

She padded to his side. “The whiskey?”

“Eli orders it special for me. You have no idea how hard that shit is to find.” He exhaled. “Whatever. What’s going on? Drunk tourists? Or did one of his exes find him again and—”

“The bar is on fire. Smoke is billowing up. You can see the dark clouds for miles.”

Luke’s whole body tensed. “And Eli?”

“I don’t know…” The man’s gaze jerked back to Luke. “He could…still be in the flames.”

Luke snarled then, a deep, inhuman sound that made chill bumps rise on her arms. She wanted to step back. Wanted to run and hide but…

She reached out to him. “Eli was the bartender, wasn’t he?” Because he’d given Luke whiskey. “He’s your friend?”

Luke turned to look at her—not her eyes, but at the hand she’d curled around his upper arm. “Not a friend, not exactly.” His gaze lifted and she saw the flare of gold once more. Power. “But he’s one of mine.”

A dark paranormal?

“Keep her here,” Luke bit off.

It took a moment too long for those words to sink in for Mina. By the time they did, Luke was already out the door, and the dark-haired, British guy was in her path. “Luke! Wait!”

He did wait, for a moment, long enough to warn, “Her voice is magic, so you’ll probably need to gag her.”

“Luke!” Her voice was a scream then, definitely nothing magical about it. She lunged after him, but the other man grabbed her around the waist, holding her tightly.

Then…the air itself seemed to still. Luke turned toward them and his face had gone hard. Cold. “You will not hurt her, is that clear, Julian? You will not so much as bruise her skin.”

Immediately, the hold on her eased.

“She isn’t to leave the island,” Luke said. “So don’t let her compel you. If she tries her tricks, you can always put her in a cell.”

Oh, the hell, no. Her glare should have burned him. “Luke, you and I are going to have issues over this.”

He smiled at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You wanted payback, sweetheart. This can be step one.”

“I didn’t want—”

He’d walked away. The jerk had just walked down the hallway and left her. “I want to help you!” Mina yelled the words without thinking. “You’re hurting! I see it! I just want to help—”

The man who’d been holding her turned Mina carefully in his arms, making an obvious effort to ‘not so much as bruise’ her. “Trust me, lady,” he said, the British definitely creeping through in his upper crust accent. “Luke isn’t the type to need help.”

“Everyone needs help.” She understood that fact all too well. “Everyone.”

Even the man that the monsters feared.





Chapter Six


The bar was gone. A total loss. The fire truck was still at the scene when Luke arrived and the dark, heavy clouds of smoke hung in the air. When he took a breath, he could taste the fire. The ash burned his mouth.

Cops were at the scene. The local guys who thought they ran the show but didn’t really do jack. A crowd of tourists were staring at the scene with shock evident on their faces.

And there was no sign of Eli.

Had he died in the wreckage? Luke marched toward one of the cops, a guy he’d crossed paths with more than a few times. A guy who had the sense to tense when Luke approached and for fear to flash in his eyes.

“M-Mr. Thorne,” the cop gasped. A decent enough sort, for a human. Wesley Strauss. Once upon a time, Wesley had worked as a homicide detective in Atlanta. But when the bodies had just kept piling up, the guy had fled down to the Keys, probably thinking he’d be doing nothing more strenuous than throwing drunk college kids in jail for some hard sobering up. He’d been wrong.