“Then call him on the phone and tell him to put me down!” So she could go and kick his ass.
Cole shook his head and managed to look exceedingly unconcerned. How many times had he found floating women in his boss’s bedroom? Her jaw clenched so hard that her back teeth ached. Bastard. Was this a normal morning routine?
“I can’t go calling him now. Sorry, ma’am,” he finally drawled. “See . . . Sam doesn’t exactly trust you.”
Good enough for sex, not good enough for trust. Damn him.
Cole’s eyes flashed demon black and his handsome face hardened. “He doesn’t trust you, and neither do I.”
Well, so much for being a succubus beacon. Right then, the guy looked like he could readily kill her.
The humans didn’t lead Sam to Az. They took him to a graveyard instead.
It was still too early for most tourists—he’d noticed they liked to hit the cemeteries in the evening or at night—so the place was deserted. Sam shoved down the kickstand on his motorcycle and waited a beat, then he followed the men past the old, wrought-iron gates.
He’d seen the humans grab a bag before they’d gone inside. He knew he wasn’t the only one hunting this day.
The tourists who came to New Orleans would be freaking terrified if they knew what really waited in those crypts. Then they’d stop leaving their offerings for voodoo queens and stop slipping in for “haunted” tours.
He knew what hid inside the coffins, but didn’t care enough to be terrified.
He watched as the men pried open a door and then slipped in an old vault. One that had been around since the late 1800s. Sam heard the shuffle of footsteps and then the sudden scream that erupted, a scream that seemed to burst from the crypt.
Sam tensed, but then the redhead came flying out of the crypt. His scream. The scream ended abruptly when the guy hit the nearest monument.
Sam guessed the hunters had taken on prey they couldn’t handle.
If that “prey” killed the blonde before Sam got a chance to question him . . . I’ll lose valuable time.
He hated wasting time. Sighing, he rolled his shoulders and stalked forward. He’d just reached the old entrance to the white tomb when the explosion hit him. Fire raced around him—more f**king fire—and the world disappeared in a swirl of red.
Too late, he realized that he’d walked straight into a trap.
Seline fell to the floor. Her hands slapped against the hard wood even as her knees bruised at the jarring impact.
“What the hell?” Cole lunged forward.
Not so fast. She threw up her hand and sent a bolt of power at him. It crackled in the air like electricity, and it arched as it hit him dead center in the chest.
Normally a demon’s power didn’t work so well against another demon. But then, she wasn’t a demon. Not really. Not fully. So those “rules” didn’t work when she was playing.
She shoved back up to her feet even as a bad feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “Why am I free?”
He grunted and rubbed his chest.
Seline lifted her arm. She didn’t like the possibilities that were running through her mind. She liked it even less when Cole snapped—
“You’re free . . . because Sam’s power must have just taken one major hit.”
And Cole wasn’t coming at her to attack. He’d jumped to his feet, and he was running out of the room, leaving her behind.
The right-hand demon, going to protect his big boss.
But if Sam needed protecting . . .
Then my plans are shot to hell.
Seline raced right after Cole, aware that she should still be pissed with the Fallen. But, instead, she was just worried.
Sam’s power must have taken one major hit.
No, dammit, no.
She needed him too much to lose him this quickly.
CHAPTER SIX
The smoke led Seline and Cole to the cemetery. It was pretty hard to miss that giant black cloud of smoke and the screams of all the sirens that filled the streets.
They pushed through the crowd of gawking onlookers, and, oh, hell. It looked like some kind of bomb had gone off. The old mausoleums were savaged. Chunks of marble littered the ground, and yeah, Seline was pretty sure that bones were scattered around the fire.
“Where is he?” she whispered to Cole, keeping close to him. When he’d jumped in his truck, she’d bounded inside with him and rushed to the rescue. Not that she’d given the demon much of a choice in getting her company. She hadn’t planned to be left behind.
A body had been covered on the ground. Not one of the cemetery’s older residents—no, those poor souls would need to be picked up for days and semi-pieced back together—but from the looks of things, the covered body was a fresh arrival.