Sweet Evil (The Sweet Trilogy #1)(106)

The streetlights above began to flicker. None of the humans seemed to notice. The lights flickered again.

“Legionnaires,” Kai whispered, signaling to the sky with an upward jut of his chin.

Hundreds of demon spirits swarmed the air above us, coming in from all directions and blotting out light like fast-moving gray clouds. The street was under attack as demons darted down at random, whispering in unsuspecting ears. The atmosphere on the street immediately changed, and I felt a painful rush of negative emotion rumble through the people.

A fight broke out between two men right in front of us. Kopano had to jump out of the way, and the rest of us swung wide to get around them, while other people were cramming in closer to get a better view. The volume of the crowd increased. Laughter became more raucous, and a woman behind us screamed. I couldn’t tell what had happened. Chaos was taking over. Spirits flipped above us, completely in their element, dive-bombing into the mass of people with evil glee.

“Ready for your first summit, little drinker?” I flinched at the voice in my head and looked up at the grisly face of one of the whisperers from last night’s party. I kept walking.

Something flew through the air and landed right on Blake’s shoulder. Ginger gave an insulted scoff and swatted it off. We stepped over the offending black lace bra.

Blake half grinned and said, “Nice,” before we were jostled and forced to keep moving.

Up ahead we passed the shirtless lady, who was now arguing with a guy. He shoved a shirt at her, attempting to cover her, and she kept pushing it away, opting to throw her head back and spin around instead. The man glowered as onlookers cheered and catcalled.

Kaidan pulled a flask out of his back pocket and guzzled it down. A strong whiff of bourbon wafted over, making me queasy.

The twins veered to the side and stopped in front of a glass door that had been painted black. We were here. This was it. The small sign above the door said sir laughs-a-lot and showed a jolly knight. The Dukes had rented an underground comedy club to hold their summit. The irony of it made me despise them even more than I already did.

As Ginger reached for the door handle I battled a surge of terror. I couldn’t go in there. I took a step back, then another, my breath becoming shallower until I knew I was on the verge of a panic attack. I spun around, prepared to run, only to face a dapper, frowning gentleman in a fine gray suit. He had salt-and-pepper hair and a long, oval face. But his most compelling feature was the giant purple badge in the middle of his chest, like a pulsating, vile eggplant of pride. Rahab, the Duke of Pride.

I spun back around, trying to play it off like I’d not just been planning to run like heck. I stumbled forward a little in my attempt to walk with Mr. Evil Incarnate at my back. The other Neph were already inside. Kaidan stood holding the door open with an expressionless face, eyes averted downward.

“After you, Duke Rahab,” he said. I stepped out of the way and let Rahab pass me with a frigid breeze. Then my eyes met Kaidan’s and we stood there.

“Get in and close the damn door!” an Australian male voice hollered from inside. “You’re lettin’ in a draft.”

There was a tense second when I knew Kaidan thought I might run, and if I did, he would run with me. But I couldn’t do that to him. So I slipped inside and felt him enter the club behind me, closing the door.

I had to adjust my pupils in the dim entryway. The place was dingy and smelled like years of stale smoke and mildew hiding under drab old carpets, but it was warm. Walls were plastered with advertisements for comedians and shows, past and present. The thin hall was empty except for a host podium by the door. Everybody else had already gone in.

“Son of Pharzuph,” said a redheaded male Neph. He was short and lean, but had the body and stance of a fighter. His fiery red hair was buzzed so short it was barely fuzz. In his hand he wielded a metal-detecting wand.

Kaidan returned the greeting with a nod, saying, “Son of Mammon.” So this was the Duke of Greed’s son.

“Arms up, mate. You know the drill.” He spoke with a heavy Aussie accent. Kaidan lifted his arms and widened his feet. I got nervous when the wand passed his pockets, but it didn’t beep. It did beep when it got to his shoes, though.

“Take ’em off,” he told Kaidan, who sighed and bent down to untie his black boots. I wondered whether they had steel in them. I glanced up when I felt the Neph’s eyes on me. He brazenly stared me up and down before giving me a wide-mouthed smile.

“Who’re you?”

“Anna. Belial’s daughter.” I still felt stupid saying, “Daughter of Belial,” like a Beowulf character. The guy stared at my badge.

Kaidan stood up and cleared his throat, making the other Neph return his attention to the boots. He did a halfhearted scan of them before nodding that they were fine and turning his attention back to me.

“Name’s Flynn Frazer,” he said, stepping close.

I took a step outward and raised my arms to the side. He stood a little closer than necessary as he waved the wand over me. And, yeah, he totally patted me down, paying close attention to my hips and bottom, which made Kaidan cross his arms and scowl.

My heart began a fierce pounding as the wand neared my ankle, but it passed over without a sound, and he didn’t touch it. I let out a frayed breath when Flynn stood back up, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Still waitin’ on a few more. See ya down there.” He nodded toward a doorway at the end of the hall. Kaidan took another long drink from a second flask as we walked down the narrow black corridor. I wondered how many flasks he had packed away on himself tonight. I kind of wished right then that I had one myself. But I needed my wits about me.