Chapter 21 #2
He’d burn the world to a crisp just to see her smile. If she wanted Bert’s head, he’d deliver it to her bronzed.
But again, she didn’t need to know that. It made him vulnerable. No one could ever know how much she meant to him.
He was even willing to give up his home.
Not like it was all that great, dipshit.
True, Hell was Hell. While it was a lot colder here, there was a lot to recommend the human world.
Laughter that wasn’t cruel. Sunshine.
Ice cream.
Most of all, friends who weren’t trying to harm him all the time. Yeah, there were some who were demonic little bastards with no understanding of loyalty or decency. Those who’d cut the throats of their own mother.
But there were those like Sorcha and Reyes, too.
Hell, even Rory. Friends who took care of each other. Family that didn’t try to destroy their blood.
As much as he loved his mother, he wasn’t sure if she’d be there for him. The fact that she’d allowed him to be tossed out…
Sorcha’s mom and dad would have been right there with her. They wouldn’t have stood for anyone to do that to their daughter. Not without a brutal fight.
It was why he respected them and why he hated they’d been hurt by the loss of her sister.
The good die young. Usually because they were trusting.
How sad was that?
Sorcha squeezed his hand. “You haven’t answered my question, Luke. What’s changed?”
“Guess I’m like the frog in a pot. Slowly getting boiled and I’m too stupid to realize it.”
“I doubt that would ever happen to you.”
“You’d be surprised. Obviously, my sister figured out how to cook my goose while I wasn’t paying attention.”
She snorted. “You’re going all-in on these clichés, aren’t you?”
He laughed at her use of her own cliché. “What’s good for the goose…”
“The gander yields.” She pulled her phone out and checked it.
All the humor left her features as she gripped the phone.
“What’s wrong?”
She tucked her phone back in her purse. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Yeah, right. Her reaction belied those words. If she were anyone else, he’d dive into their mind and take the answers, but it was Sorcha. His Sorcha. He wouldn’t take what she wasn’t willing to give. “Talk to me, Sorsh. I can’t fix what I don’t know about.”
“I don’t need you to fix this. I can handle it.”
“Can I at least loan you a wrench?”
That succeeded in making her smile. “Only if you let me throw it at someone’s head.”
“Absolutely. You know I’d never protest.”
She patted his hand. What he’d much rather have her do was take it and place it on more tender parts of her body.
Damn.
It was getting harder and harder to pretend he didn’t want her.
Maybe I should let my father have me.
Hell would definitely distract him. Though to be honest, he wasn’t sure he could return home even to be punished. In spite of what Anubis said, he didn’t know what his father wanted or what to believe.
Old Scratch was an irksome bastard. Capricious and twisted. Up and down, often at the same time.
That was part of what he loved about Sorcha. She was even-keeled. She had a bit of a temper, but it wasn’t radical or even catastrophic. She was the epitome of don’t start no shit, won’t be no shit.
Amused, Luke pulled onto the long driveway that led to a good-sized gray ranch home. He could see why a werewolf would live here. As he’d guessed, there were woods surrounding it and a marsh in the back. Good place to roam free without worrying someone would call animal control.
He pulled up to the door and parked.
“You were right about this.”
Luke grinned at Sorcha. “Usually am.”
She snorted. “You’re so arrogant.”
“Don’t forget vain and conceited. Often at the same time.”
Smiling, she got out as he opened his door. Luke joined her and they walked to the door together.
Luke knocked and waited.
“What if he’s at work?” she asked.
“What if he works from home? See how we both can play this game.”
She rolled her eyes just as a middle-aged woman opened the door. “Yes?”
Luke flashed his badge. “We’re here to see…” Shit, he hadn’t looked at the werewolf’s name.
“Faro Bellamy.”
Grateful Sorcha’d been paying attention, he nodded. “Yeah. Him. Is he home?”
For an obvious reason, the woman wasn’t too sure about letting them into her house. “Do you have a badge, too?” she asked Sorcha.
“I do.” Sorcha pulled it out and showed it to her.
“We also have guns.” He sent the woman a wicked smile.
That caused the woman’s brown eyes to flare. “Pardon?”
Sorcha elbowed him. “Forgive my partner. He has a warped sense of humor.”
“I do. I really, really do.”
The woman scowled at Sorcha’s badge. “Never heard of Infernal Affairs. Is this some Sam and Dean scam? What are you trying to pull?”
Luke let out a tired sigh and gave Sorcha a stern frown. “Did you leave your Bikini Inspector badge in the car?”
Before she could answer, he leaned down toward the woman. “Look, Tiffany, I know you’re a werewolf and so is Faro. We’re here about his attack and I need to speak with him. Okay?”
Her face lost all color. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t. Just don’t. We’ve had two Alphas lose their heads. And we were told that Faro almost lost his. Now, you can let us talk to him, or take your chances with whatever is hunting him. I really have no vested interest if Faro lives or dies, but I’m guessing you might.”
“Yes! Sorry. Please, come in.” She stepped back and opened the door.
Luke entered first, then turned back toward her. “For the record, we could have been his attackers. Letting someone in your house unannounced is never a good thing.”
“But you said—”
“You’re safe with us,” Sorcha said quickly before Luke could do any more damage. “He’s just trying to make a point.”
The woman swallowed hard. “A scary one.”
“Sorry.” Luke shrugged. “Sometimes the devil gets the better of me and I just can’t help myself.” He offered her a smile, but she wasn’t buying it.