by L. L. Frost
Gentle, playful Tobias throws me for a loop. I want to explore this new, more open side of him, but following him to the kitchen will just remind me of everything I lost today. So, instead, I turn to help Tally and Jax pick up tables and chairs.
Jax fixes what can be salvaged and hauls what can’t to the dumpster out back. As Tally leaves to bring in the table clothes we bought, Kellen arrives with Slater in tow. When I spot the extra chairs they bring with them from Club Fulcrum, I want to cry all over again. Tobias’s threat holds me back, though. I have full faith he’ll follow through, and he already owns a bunch of my feathers.
As Kellen sets down a stack of four chairs, he looks around the shop, none of his usual playfulness present. “If she shows her face here again, she won’t be getting another easy trip back to the demon plane.”
Slater grunts in agreement. “Though, it was nice to watch her be blown to pieces.”
“Yeah, it had a certain visceral appeal.” Kellen shakes his fiery hair back from his face. “Too temporary, though, obviously.”
“You can’t hurt her. You’re under contract,” I remind him.
Lightning sparks across his pupils. “Don’t worry, honey, I won’t be the one doing the hurting.”
I frown at him. “You can’t order people to do it, either.”
His lashes drop to veil his eyes. “I won’t be ordering, either. The actions others take are their own.”
Slater and Jax carefully keep their attention focused on dispersing the new chairs around the room, pretending they can’t hear Kellen, but that kind of loophole won’t fly with the higher-ups.
Grabbing my storm demon by the collar, I haul him down to my level. “If you get Tally’s witches hurt—”
“My witches,” he reminds me with a humorless grin. “Their lives are mine to do with as I please until they fulfill their contracts.”
“Don’t make me defend my friends, Kellen,” I growl.
“Then don’t make friends with my possessions,” he growls, a rumble of thunder in his voice. “I’ll use any tool at my disposal to protect you.”
Eyes narrowing, I rise onto my toes, puffing out my chest.
Expression grim, he reaches out to grip my shoulders and push me back to my heels. “This is not like using Julian as a scapegoat, Adie. What Cassandra will do to you is not a matter of imprisonment. You will not exist somewhere removed from us where I have the hope to reclaim you. I will not stand aside and let her remove you from existence because of some mandate handed down by the High Council. The witches knew their lives could be forfeit when they signed my contract.”
“What other choice did they have?” I demand.
“They could have stayed where I found them.” Gently, he detaches my hands from his collar and presses a spark filled kiss to my forehead. “They had a price, and I met it. What happens to them is not up to you.”
My hands tremble in his hold, and I pull them away to tuck behind me. “I don’t like this side of you.”
He nods in acceptance and steps back from me. “I don’t either, but it exists.”
“We need to go, boss,” Slater says, his face void of emotion. “You have a meeting in an hour.”
I frown at that. “It’s a bit early in the day for that, isn’t it?”
“Vendors like to meet early.” Kellen runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry I can’t stay to help more.”
“You’ve helped enough.” I look at Slater. “Thank you.”
He nods, his gaze intent. “It’s the least I could do for you.”
My frown deepens. Is he referring to the time he couldn’t protect me from Domnall’s attack and I hid it from Kellen? He’s more than paid me back since then. All the witches have. And I’ll do my damnedest to make sure Kellen doesn’t use them as cannon fodder to distract Cassandra.
Cassandra’s not just my problem, and I plan to make the other succubi and incubi who’ve grown lazy under Landon’s protection aware of their responsibility.
A sense of disquiet fills me as they leave, and Jax stops pretending he’s deaf to face me. “He’s right, you know. We didn’t go into this agreement blind. So, don’t worry about it.”
I cross my arms under my breasts. “And what happens to Tally if you all die? Does she just get sucked back into Dreamland? You’re her anchors, right?”
I’ve never asked for the details of how my friend became the first and only baku to escape Dreamland, but by the way Jax’s gaze drops from mine, I’m not wrong in my guess. Whatever they did, her presence here is tied to them, and if they disappear, so will she.
Ducking down, I snare his gaze once more. “You took on a responsibility when you gave her form. So, don’t be so fast to run to your deaths when it’s not your place, no matter what Kellen may think.”
“What does Kellen think?” Tally asks as she walks back into the room, her arms laden with tablecloths. She glances around the room and brightens. “Did he bring in reinforcements? Is Slater still here?”
“They had to head back right away.” I rush over to take some of her burden. “I’m sure he’ll come back by when he has a break.”
She smiles softly. “Club management keeps him so busy. Kellen should give him more days off.”
My chest tightens, but I force a smile. “I’ll mention that to him.”
Her smile grows. “You’re a good friend.”
The constriction in my chest grows. She wouldn’t look so happy if she knew we’d been discussing the death of her men moments ago. No, she’d pack them up and take them far away from here. And I would help her do it, if I didn’t know Kellen would just track them down.
For the first time in a long while, I’m ashamed to be a demon. People’s lives shouldn’t be ruled by contracts that bind them to promises made when their worlds were different. Our people don’t allow leniency for change or growth. They lock us into moments of time and expect everything to simply stop. But that’s not what life is, nor should we want it to be.
“Don’t frown so much,” Tally chides as she drapes the first table in white cloth. She steps back to admire the effect. “Look how bright the place will look once we’re done.”
“Beautiful,” I agree with a heavy heart.
By the time we finish, it will look like we’re being festive instead of trying to hide the vandalism.
But inside, I know it’s just a temporary mask to hide what’s been broken.
Somehow, Tobias rips out the broken ovens and new, regular ovens arrive thirty minutes before we open. I mourn the loss of Torch’s home, but vow to find the tiny ignis demon a more secure place to live, once we locate him again.
The first delivery of cupcakes and cookies arrive right as Tally unlocks the front door and flips the sign to open.
I fill the display case with the small assortment of vanilla and chocolate cupcakes, along with trays of beautifully painted sugar cookies listed as a featured item. I don’t know how Jessie and Sophia managed to make so many cookies in such a short amount of time, let alone use the new frosting paint I bought to give them holiday-themed designs as if we’d been planning it for months, but I’m eternally grateful.
I sprinkle in the jeweled poinsettia and snowflakes in the empty spaces trays would usually fill to make the lack of offering intentional.
When Kelly returns with the new stand mixer, Tobias hooks it up, then helps the delivery man bring in the new ingredients to replace what had been destroyed.
When the bell over the door tinkles the first welcome for the day, we’re ready with coffee brewing and treats for sale.
As I watch the customer happily leave with a box of four cakes and a coupon with a cookie sample, Tobias rubs the tension from my shoulder. “You did well. Cassandra tried to make a statement by destroying your bakery, and by opening, you’re letting her know her actions mean nothing.”
I reach up to squeeze his hand. “I didn’t do it alone. You will be compensated.”
“Good,” he purrs, send
ing a shiver down my spine. “How about we start this compensation with some tea? I haven’t had my first cup for the day.”
“I’ll make it personally.” I nod to the empty seats. “Go rest your feet. I’ll bring it to you.”
With a hot kiss against my temple, he walks out to the main floor and takes a seat in front of the picture window, which perfectly frames him for every passerby to see.
I both love him for that and hate it. Whenever one of the guys sits there, we always have a large influx of horny women in the store, and while I appreciate the boost in sales, we’re not exactly flush with products right now. But the quiet hum of the mixer tells me we will be soon, and it’s still early for the lunch rush, so we might be safe.
Or not. As I pop a bag of mint tea into a mug, the bell over the door jingles to announce another customer, then jingles again as three more follow her in.
They eye each other then the single empty seat across from Tobias with enough competitiveness that I half expect them to bypass the counter altogether in their rush to gain his attention. But they show some semblance of reason as they make their way to the counter and Kelly takes the first order.
While he does that, I carry the mug over to Tobias’s table and set it in front of him.
When his thick brows shoot up at the tea bag still floating on the surface, I set a small plate and spoon next to him before dragging the extra chair at his table away.
His soft chuckle follows me back to the counter, where I stand behind Kelly and glare at the women, daring them to misread my silent message.
They take the hint and get their orders to go.
But that doesn’t stop the next wave who enters a moment later, rubbernecking as they pass Tobias’s table.
Is he doing this on purpose? Tipping the scales to draw them into the store?
When he casts me an amused glance, I mouth, Stop it.
He shakes his head and fake frowns, as if he doesn’t know exactly what I said.
Annoyed, I pull a cookie from the display case and march it over to him. Thunking it down hard enough to draw attention, I mold myself against his side and say loudly, “Don’t you need to get to the office, darling?”
His arm slips around my waist, his hand dangerously close to the swell of my ass. “The president has things under control, for now, sugar dumpling.”
I’m surprised Emil went into the bank in his current condition, but I guess most of his clients are demons, so it doesn’t really matter.
Reaching out, I pinch Tobias’s cheek. “But surely your time isn’t so free, snookums.”
He smiles up at me. “I always have time for you, kumquat.”
Kumquat? I mouth, and he shrugs as he lifts his teacup.
It freezes halfway to his lips as something catches his attention out on the street. I follow his line of sight in time to catch Detective Sharpe stepping into the bakery, and my stomach sinks.
We really don’t need this right now.
The detective barely glances around the bakery before he zeroes in on us and marches over.
“Detective,” I say stiffly. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
He grabs one of the chairs from the nearest table and sets it down across from Tobias, then sits and looks up at me. “I had a call from the mortuary earlier.”
My grip on Tobias’s shoulder tightens. “Are they releasing Julian’s body for burial?”
“No.” He looks between us, his gaze assessing. “It would seem it went missing last night, sometime around midnight. Care to cast a guess as to where it went?”
Damn Phillip and his inability to follow basic instructions.
“We’re not in charge of keeping track of corpses, Detective Sharpe,” Tobias says smoothly when I don’t answer. “Did you ask the guard on duty? Or view the security recordings?”
“The guard didn’t see anything.” His eyes flick up to me. “But when I viewed the recordings over the last few days, I did see some interesting visitors.”
I release my grip on Tobias to move my hands to my hips. “You have a problem with me bringing a priest to read my friend his last rites?”
Detective Sharpe reaches out and hooks a finger onto the edge of the small plate with Tobias’s cookie and pulls it over to his side of the table as he stares at me. “Yes, Father Hendricks, was it?”
I have no idea what name Flint signed in under and search the Detective’s eyes for any sign of a trap. But he remains frustratingly unreadable, and I know from experience his mind would be impossible to manipulate, even if I had the power to do so. Which I don’t at the moment.
At last, I give a grudging nod.
Detective Sharpe takes a bite from the cookie, and his eyes widen in surprise. “These are pretty good.”
My eyes narrow on him. “I’ll let the baker know.”
“There are three Father Hendricks in town.” He nibbles some more and groans with appreciation before setting the half-eaten cookie down and brushing the crumbs from his fingers. “Do you know what they all have in common?”
“Why don’t you just tell us,” Tobias says as he eyes his stolen treat with annoyance.
Not that he wanted it. He doesn’t like sweets very much. But it was still something I gave him, and only the detective’s humanity stops Tobias from demanding payment of equal value. Which I’m sure he’d price well above the cost of the sugar and butter that went into it.
Detective Sharpe doesn’t look at him as his gaze remains locked on me. “None of them are the person who visited the morgue with you, Ms. Pond. And a close study of the video footage shows a gap in time that’s unaccounted for.”
So much for Flint’s hacker. I want a refund.
I offer the detective my most sympathetic expression. “It must be so hard to find good equipment on your department’s budget.”
He leans forward. “I want the real name and contact information for the man who went with you to the morgue, Ms. Pond.”
“Why?” I tilt my head to the side. “When we left, Julian’s body was still there. What happened to it after that is your issue.”
“Will I find him on the list of Mr. Cassius’s known employees?” he presses.
That depends entirely on how much they’ve linked to Kellen. Do recordings exist somewhere of us with the cleaners? If so, I’m sure they’ll turn up. That’s the kind of luck I have.
“We’ve answered enough of your questions, Detective. I did tell you to bring a warrant next time you wished to speak to any of us. And since I don’t see one...?” Tobias stands. “It’s time for you to leave.”
Instead of standing, Detective Sharpe glances around the shop. “You’ve rearranged in here.”
I stiffen at the implication he’s been here without my knowledge to know what it used to look like. “Tis the season. Now get out.”
His eyes pause on the floor behind me. “Did you have an incident recently, Ms. Pond? Something you’d like to report?”
Twisting, I follow his line of sight to a piece of chair leg that we somehow missed under one of the booths, and my pulse lurches. “Just an accident. Nothing to worry about.”
The phone rings at the counter, the sound sharp against my eardrums before Kelly picks it up. After a moment, he glances at me and wiggles the receiver.
I turn back to the detective. “I have a business to see to. Please escort yourself out.”
Turning, I stride to the counter and grab the phone. “Adie speaking. How may I sweeten your day?”
“I didn’t think you’d be this resilient, Ms. Pond,” a familiar voice crackles from the other end. “Did you enjoy my flowers?”
My hand tightens around the receiver. “Victor Hesse.”
Across the room, Tobias’s head snaps toward me.
“A pity your mentor wasn’t there when I dropped by to pay my respects.” He lets out a bone-cracking laugh. “I was sad we couldn’t visit longer the last time I came to your house. But that’s okay. I have another present for you. One that you’
ll find rather...freeing.”
The blood drains from my face, my numb hand releasing the phone to let it clatter to the counter. Panic rushes through me as I spin toward Tobias and stumble forward a step as the ground rolls beneath me.
For a moment, I think I’m light-headed with fear. Then, the tables and chairs dance across the floor as a loud boom rattles the windows. Customers scream in panic as a second boom sounds, and I struggle to stay on my feet and reach Tobias.
Detective Sharpe leaps to his feet and stands to the side of the window, his eyes locked on the street outside. “Nobody panic. There was an explosion, but it’s not in this immediate area. Police will take care of it. Please, nobody panic.”
His words have the opposite effect as panic pulls me across the room. Club Fulcrum lays in the direction he looks, and Kellen went in early today for a meeting.
I reach Tobias and grip his arm. “Kellen.”
He already has his phone in his hand, and he hits speed dial before lifting it to his ear.
Blood crashes through my veins as I push past him to peer out the window. A large, black cloud of smoke rises into the air from the next block over, right where the club should be.
“Tobias,” I whisper as I turn back to him.
A loud crack of breaking glass ruptures behind me, and Tobias jerks, the phone falling from his hand. Warm droplets of blood splatter my face a moment before a heavy weight knocks me to the ground.
I go down fighting, desperate to reach Tobias as he stumbles a step forward, blood dripping from his chest. Fire sparks at his fingertips as he looks around for an enemy to fight.
“Shooter!” Detective Sharpe yells. “Everyone, get down!”
The sharp crack comes again, and Tobias’s head flies back, thick blood and viscera spraying across the shop as he falls.
“No!” I scream as I try to untangle myself from the detective to reach Tobias.
“Stay down!” Detective Sharpe yells, trying to wrestle me into submission.
Another crack comes, and the display case ruptures, my sigil of protection shattering.
No, this isn’t how demons end. Not by human weapons. This isn’t how we fight, and it’s not what we guard against. We use magic and wield elements. We don’t use guns.