Hope For More (Trinity Book 3)

by Devin Fontaine

  “The trash along here is scattered normally, so whatever blew everything across the back alley didn’t turn the corner,” she said. “Take pictures of all of this. And see if there’s anything in these piles that must needs be taken back to the lab.”

  Seala nodded and waved her partner over. Joan rejoined Joesph as the CSI’s collected evidence.

  “I’m done.” Joseph removed his gloves. “I shall do a spiritual autopsy back at the morgue, but I can tell you, it’s likely this male was killed in an identical manner to the female daemon.”

  Joan already suspected that, but it still hurt to hear. “All right. Thank you.” She forced down her anger, the rage she felt toward the Horseman. They needed, no she needed, to find that bastard and fast before more immortals died. No one knew what kind of power he was getting by devouring the life-forces of immortals. They pretty much assumed that whatever it was, wasn’t good for them.

  Joseph stood and texted on his phone, likely telling his crew to bring a gurney to transport the body. He slid it back in his pocket and looked at her.

  “I know I don’t have to tell you, but this is very bad.”

  “Aye, I know.”

  “Maybe Lukas could be of some help.”

  “Lukas? The physician?” Joan’s eyebrows arched halfway up her forehead.

  “Lukas was around during the Great Battle. He is knowledgeable in the field of immortal death. It was Lukas who tended to injured allies and witnessed the loss of several.” Joseph clapped a hand on her shoulder. “It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him.”

  The rattle of metal and scrape of wheels over pavement signaled the arrival of the gurney.

  “I’ll do that,” Joan said. “Many thanks.”

  He nodded. “I shall have the report for you by the morrow.”

  Joan headed for her car, fighting her way through a throng of reporters that clustered along the edge of the police barrier. They were all human, as immortal news crews couldn’t ask questions in mixed company. Michael would likely hold a press conference for them later. In the meantime, Joan ignored the shouts of the hungry journalists.

  “Detective Puella, is there a serial killer in Eastlake Falls?”

  “Detective! Is it true; someone is killing young singles?”

  “Detective, who do you think is doing this?”

  “Do you have any leads?”

  “Are the citizens of Eastlake Falls safe?”

  With zero finesse, she pushed her way through and climbed in the unmarked car. The engine roared as she stomped on the gas and peeled out. The last thing she wanted to do was listen to idiotic journalists criticize her work. Joan didn’t have Luke’s phone number, so she drove straight to the hospital in the hopes he was working.

  “Afternoon,” a security guard said when she stepped on the sidewalk to enter the emergency room.

  She waved and strode inside. The receptionist was none too pleased when Joan flashed her badge and requested Dr. Christos. She scowled and paged Luke before returning to her phone. Joan noted she was playing some sort of ridiculous game with colored jellybeans all over the screen and scoffed.

  Stultus human.

  “Joan?”

  Thank the Fates. “Hello, Luke. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  Luke grinned and two perfect dimples popped on either cheek. Wow. The good doctor was beautiful, every bit the image of an ancient Greek statue. Heck, he probably modeled for a few as it was the time and place from which he came.

  “Sure. Come with me.”

  The smile never left his face and as a female with functional eyes, Joan couldn’t help but react. The corner of her mouth turned up as she followed Luke through the institutional corridors to his office. He gestured she enter first, and closed the door behind them. Joan felt the wards go up and raised a brow.

  He winked and shot her a heart-stopping smirk. “Figured mayhap we must needs a silencing spell so others cannot eavesdrop.”

  “Um, sure. I mean, that’s good.” She sat in a chair and felt her cheeks heat from tripping over her tongue. A tongue that was all but lolling out of the corner of her mouth, drool dripping from Luke’s subtle flirting.

  He folded his hands on his desk and leaned toward her. “What can I do for you, detective?”

  “Joan,” she blurted out. Luke squinted. “Call me Joan, I mean.”

  That mischievous grin returned, dimples and all. “All right, Joan. How may I be of service?”

  For the love of the Fates.

  Luke’s sexy, teasing tone sent the heat from her flaming face directly to her groin. She shifted and squirmed on the chair. In the past, the two of them always had a sort of playful banter, but this seemed to be a step up from mere joking around. This felt like an attempt to spark a fire from a flint.

  “Uh, well…” Get it together, Joan. She cleared her throat. “What do you know of killing immortals?”

  Luke’s beautiful thick brows scrunched and his sexy smirk turned into a frown. “Killing immortals?”

  “Michael has yet to release any information but…” She choked, coughing and hacking. Her voice box spasmed, rendering her unable to speak.

  Luke leapt from his chair and began patting her back. “Joan? Are you all right?”

  It took a few seconds, but she finally stopped coughing. Her eyes watered and her throat ached. “Water?” she rasped.

  Luke hurried out of his office, quickly returning with a glass. “Here.” She drank the cool water and it soothed her raw throat.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Luke took the glass and placed it on his desk. He leaned a hip on the edge of his desk directly in front of her. “Don’t be sorry. Do you feel okay?” He stared at her with such intensity, Joan’s cheeks flared up again, the burn prickling her skin.

  “I’m fine. So, as I was saying, Michael—”

  Fates, she began to choke again, coughing and gagging as if someone were squeezing her throat. Her hands flew to her neck. Luke’s eyes bugged out and he grabbed her, deftly flipping her around to slap her back. She tried waving him off, because she wasn’t actually choking on anything, but he was undeterred.

  “Fates, Joan.”

  Her throat cleared and she twisted out of his grip.

  “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

  Luke looked panic stricken, his handsome face drained of color. He grabbed her face with both hands and tilted her head back to examine her.

  Fates, he’s tall. And his hands so warm. And big.

  “What the fuck! You’re scaring me.” Luke stared into each of her eyes. Joan didn’t miss the frantic look in his eyes or slight trembling of his arms. “Open your mouth,” he demanded.

  “I’m—”

  “I’m not joking, Joan,” he all but roared.

  Joan was stunned by the outburst. Luke was one of the calmest, most rock-solid immortals she knew. He never folded under pressure. It was what made him a brilliant trauma surgeon and emergency room physician. Off balance by his freak out, she complied and allowed Luke to inspect her mouth and throat. Satisfied, he gently palpitated her neck from her ears to her collarbone.

  “Can I sit now?” she snapped. Why? She had no idea. Mayhap because having Luke’s hands on her was something she could get very used to, very quickly.

  Luke scowled but let go. He didn’t return to his chair, remaining right where he was, half a foot away.

  “What was that? And don’t say nothing because I’m not buying it.”

  She sighed. “A secrecy spell.”

  His frown grew deeper. “Secrecy spell?”

  “Confidential case. I’m sorry. The spell slipped my mind.” Luke seemed hurt she couldn’t share what she knew. It isn’t my fault! Joan huffed and crossed her arms. “Look, mayhap I can ask Michael to lift the spell, but only to include you. In truth, I really do need your help, but until the order is rescinded, I shan’t be able to discuss it. Apologies for coming here and wasting your time.”

  Luke stood silent for a long while. “Fin
e.” He reached behind his back and snagged a pen and paper from his desk. He scrawled on the paper and handed it to her. “This is my personal cell phone. Call when you get everything worked out.”

  “Great. Thanks.” She stood to leave.

  Luke grasped her arm, holding her in place, gaze serious. “I don’t like this, Joan.”

  She tried to smile and strike a casual pose so Luke wouldn’t be overly stressed. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get it taken care of.” She patted his hand and gently pried his fingers from her arm. It killed her to do so, since all she wanted was to hold on tight. Luke grunted his own displeasure, whether at the situation or her removing his hand, she couldn’t be sure. “I’ll call you soon.”

  Luke’s eyes burned with fire as he stared down at her. “You better.”

  I think I internally combusted on the spot.

  “YOU HAVE YOUR ORDERS, DJINN,” Joshua said to the enormous dark-skinned male.

  “Yes, my Prince.”

  He held back the urge to recoil. Not from fear. The day he feared a lowly dog was the day he turned in his crown and became a servant to that pompous Archangel, Michael. Joshua snorted and the djinn gave him a curious look.

  “Make sure you do it right,” he snarled. “I must needs know everything about my cousin’s response to a threat at one of his businesses. You may kill humans if necessary, but I prefer to keep causalities to a minimum. Less violence brings less scrutiny from Michael and his merry band of angels. Cause a disruption and leave. Observe my cousin, Lust, and I shall do the rest.” He stepped right into Thánatos’s face, making sure the djinn got a good look at his glowing yellow eyes. “Do not fuck up or I’ll have Vassago cut off your arm and feed it to your Hounds. I’ve been told it’s quite painful to regenerate a limb.”

  Vassago, who stood to the side of the room, glared at the djinn, but Thánatos didn’t flinch at the threat, which was good. Very good. The weak and cowardly never lasted long. This djinn also pleased him by showing the proper amount of respect for his ruler and Prince. He could see it in his eyes and his stance. Thánatos’s reactions were likely the result of his many decades spent as the previous djinn’s alpha Hound. Djinns are shapeshifters, their non-human form being that of a Hellhound—a large, black, snarling and drooling canine corpse. Intelligence wasn’t one of their more prominent qualities, but they had loyalty in spades.

  Thánatos, as the previous alpha in Balor’s pack, automatically became the new djinn when Balor was banished to the Underworld. The remaining Hellhounds then fought until a new Hound ascended to alpha and the cycle continued. Hellhounds are nasty, smelly beasts of moderate intellect and difficult to train, yet they served Joshua well.

  He should have left a few behind to deal with Michael and his minions when they raided the compound. The thought of the huge black beasts tearing into the flesh of the Archangel’s faithful angels and saints made him smile.

  His attention returned to the djinn, who still stood in front of him. Joshua scowled, impatience and fury burning in his chest. His yellow core flared and his daemon roared his displeasure. If he didn’t acquire his possession soon, he would have to feed.

  “What are you still doing here, dog? I gave you an order.”

  “Aye, my Prince.” The djinn left the room.

  Fuck. He rubbed his temples. That stupid dog better get the job done. On a good day, Joshua had very little patience and zero tolerance for failure. On a bad day? If the djinn were to fail, he should simply turn himself in to Michael and pray for banishment. The Underworld would be a vacation compared to what he would have Vassago do to him. After scouring thousands of pages of ancient volumes, he came up with a spell that he believed had the best chance of incapacitating the class nine sorceress. He was closer than ever to releasing his uncle, with only a few rare ingredients standing between him and opening the portal.

  Joshua pulled his well-used battle sword from its wall-mounted hilt. The heft of the metal felt good in his hands. His daemon agreed and practically purred in delight. They would go to the barracks and instruct three or four daemons to find them some new toys. His daemon was hungry. Having some new possessions would feed his greed… for now.

  They wouldn’t be satisfied until they had their uncle back on the Earthly plane with them.

  “Soon, uncle. Very soon.”

  “DANTE, you can’t keep me here all the time. I have to go to work.” Faith stood with her arms crossed, blue eyes blazing. Her anger pulsed across the soul bond and Dante had to hide a wince.

  “I understand you’re upset, angelus, but I can’t take the chance of you getting hurt or, Fates forbid, killed.” Somehow Dante managed to keep his voice from hitching at the thought of someone harming his mate. When they first bonded, he believed his Faith to be dead and it nearly killed him. He wouldn’t go through that again, and refused to lose her.

  Dante moved toward Faith, but his stubborn soulmate lifted her chin and took a step back. “No. I’m not letting you do this.”

  “Be reasonable.” A bolt of fear streaked through Dante and he knew she must needs feel it. Aye, she did. Her eyes glistened with tears and the rigid pose loosened.

  “Dante, please,” she begged. “I can’t live like this. I’m becoming…” She ducked her head so he couldn’t see her face.

  Fates, Faith didn’t need to tell him how she felt. He knew every emotion his angelus had, as he experienced them along with her through their bond. His mate was depressed and it made his heart ache every time her sadness hit him right smack in the chest.

  “Angelus…”

  Faith saw his hesitation and struck. “Please, Dante?” She stepped close and wrapped her arms around his waist, blinking up at him. Those big, blue-green eyes shone and another wave of misery struck him in his core. “The courthouse is warded. Maybe even more than our home. I’m safe there, love.”

  Fuck! Dante despised being put in this position. He wanted nothing more than to make his soulmate happy, yet her safety must needs be paramount. He exhaled and cupped her face.

  “All right. Courthouse, home. Nowhere else.” Faith smiled. “I mean it. No more trips to the club or to Davin and Verity’s place. Here and work and I’ll be taking you. Only me.”

  Faith nodded eagerly. “Yes. Of course. Thank you.” She stood on her toes and he bent over to give her a kiss. She responded beautifully, sinking into his touch, allowing him to control the pressure and depth. He kept it short, as he had a meeting soon and there was no time for the type of intimacy he desired. Faith stepped out of his arms and hurried to their bedroom to finish getting ready for work.

  Whilst she readied, he paced and worried and began to panic. Was he doing the right thing in keeping her locked up? In allowing her to go to work? He didn’t know, but it must needs be, because he couldn’t live without his soulmate. If Faith died, he would die with her. Death was better than existing without her by his side.

  “I’m ready to go,” Faith said.

  Happiness and gratitude struck him hard. Dante glanced up to find his mate approaching, looking radiant, a far cry from the misery she projected a few minutes ago. Her joy brought a smile to his face. How could he deny Faith anything if it made her look and feel like this?

  They walked to the door and Faith disabled the wards so they could take their leave. In the hall, she put the wards back up and turned to him.

  “Come, altarasha.” He opened his arms and Faith stepped into them. She pressed against his front and made a contented sound right before he dematerialized to the courthouse.

  “GRADY, can you come to my office?”

  The sitri’s voice crackled on the speakerphone. “Be right there.” Dante could tell from his tone that Grady knew exactly why he was being summoned.

  A moment later, there was a knock on the office door. Grady stepped inside without awaiting a response. The beautiful male worked for Dante a long time and he trusted him one hundred percent.

  “Hello.”

  Grady tossed him a sas
sy smirk and sat across from his desk and waited. Sitris were flirts. Their abilities included stirring up sexual desire in humans and immortals, though it was deemed illegal to compel without the subject’s permission. It was no surprise how many partners Grady found that were willing to let him work his powers on them. Sitris knew exactly what they were doing in bed, and it made for an enjoyable experience. Before bonding with Faith, Dante had bedded many sitris over the centuries to feed his lust. Never Grady, as his loyal employee was male and males held no appeal for Dante. Grady’s interests, however, were quite the opposite. The stunning sitri bedded male partners exclusively.

  “I’d like to discuss my new assistant. Or should I say, soon to be ex-assistant?”

  The second the words left his mouth, Grady rolled his eyes and huffed. The playful smile vanished, turning into an adorable pout.

  Yeah, he knows exactly why he’s here, the little shit.

  “Grady, I thought we agreed you would no longer fuck my assistants.” Dante held back the laughter that bubbled up at the sight of his receptionist looking like he sucked on a lemon.

  “He hit on me,” Grady whined. He batted his thick eyelashes, even though he knew Dante to be immune to his charms. Since they bonded, only Dante’s mate could interest him sexually. He didn’t even spare a glance for other females these days.

  Dante sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Grady, I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t have a female assistant because they end up flirting with me to the point they annoy me. I can’t hire males because you inevitably end up seducing them.” He tossed the pen he had been toying with on his desk. “Exactly who am I to hire if I can have neither a male nor a female?”

  Grady sank deep in thought. He curled his lithe legs beneath his body and tapped a finger on his mouth.

  “Oh! I have an idea.” He sat up straight, hazel eyes wide. “I have a brother who needs work.”

  Dante frowned. “A brother? Besides Sam?”

  Sam, also a sitri, is Dante’s cousin Davin’s receptionist at his modeling agency. Sitris are very good at greeting people, they are attractive, charming, and impossible to resist. They are also a rarity in the daemon world, as sitris are born like Dante, not created in the Underworld. Sitris could easily multiply on the Earthly plane by mating with any other fertile being—each other, humans, practitioners, and more.