He nodded. "Makes sense. If you were really evil, your mom would already be in hell, huh?"
"Probably." She hesitated, then pulled away so she could see his face. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. What's up?" He caught a whiff of cedar smoke when he released her. Was that her Satan genes? He liked it. Cedar smoke and strawberries. It fit.
She furrowed her brow. "When Satan said that Satan Jr. had probably made a deal with someone in my life, someone who would want something Satan Jr. could provide... You fit the bill." She sat back, scrutinizing his face.
He gave a small smile even as a tinge of regret tightened in his chest. He'd wondered when she'd make that connection. "You think I'm betraying you to Satan Jr.?"
Her eyes narrowed and she deepened her examination of his face. "Well, you'd be the perfect candidate."
"True." He twirled her hair around one finger. "It would probably work, don't you think? Not a bad idea."
She knocked his hand away. "Cut it out. I'm serious. Did you do it?"
"Do you think I did?"
She lifted a brow. "You didn't answer my question."
Disappointment made his shoulders sag. "You didn't answer mine either." He'd needed her to say she believed in him, that she trusted him. He understood why she wouldn't let herself do it, but that didn't keep him from wanting it.
"Derek. Seriously. I need a straight answer from you."
He sighed and looked directly into her eyes. "It's not me. I swear it."
She smiled, and he felt her relax. "I knew it."
The constriction in his chest dissipated at the conviction in her tone. "Then why'd you ask?"
"If you'd just found out you were half-Satan, wouldn't you start to doubt your own instincts? Wonder if you really had a clean grasp on evil? I mean, for all I know, you could have been a mass murderer, and my half-Satan gut instinct would have thought that made you a perfect candidate for a husband."
Husband? He grinned, and the last of the tension vanished from his body, replaced with a heady energy that had him wanting to jump out of the Uber and run the last few blocks to his condo to shake it off. "Excellent point. I only murder people on Sundays after church, so you can go ahead with your plans to marry me."
"Great. One less thing to worry about then." She lifted her brow. "So what next?"
"Aside from planning our wedding?"
"Uh huh."
"My place. We'll check on Theresa and Mona, get some food, and strategize. The first thing we need to do is figure out who Satan Jr. has working for him, then leverage that into a viable plan of action."
"It's a little vague, but it's a start. I'll keep thinking." She snuggled against him and tucked her head under his chin.
He rested his cheek on her head and spun the information through his mind, trying to work out who might be Satan Jr.'s accomplice. They had to find out who it was and find Satan Jr., because if they failed, one of them was going to die, and he wasn't sure any longer who he would be willing, or even able, to sacrifice.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Given how the last day or so of his life had unfolded, Derek was only mildly surprised to walk into his condo and discover his brother and Wendy pinned in the corner of the kitchen by a fire breathing dragon. Justine's hand went to her gun as Derek nodded at the trio. "Well, hey, there."
"Hey, guys." Theresa waved cheerfully at them while still shooting streams of flames toward her prisoners. "These idiots showed up looking for Derek, so I'm toying with them. I'm pretty sure we ought to kill them, but I was waiting for you so we could share the fun. I was thinking you two could do the girl and I'll do the guy? Sound fair?"
Derek grinned when he saw Quincy's eyes widen. Yeah, he should probably be more sympathetic to his bro, but there was something satisfying about seeing his brother facing down something that he'd claimed repeatedly didn't exist. "I think I'll pass. I'm good. Justine?"
She eyed the duo. "I might let you do both, Theresa. It's been kind of a stressful day. I'm not really in the mood to shoot random strangers."
"You've had a bad day? That's all the more reason for murder, mayhem, and carnage, babe!" Theresa set her claws on her hips and exhaled a fiery sigh of frustration. "Seriously, girl. Have I taught you nothing in the last two hundred years?"
Justine smiled. "You've taught me a lot. You're amazing. I love you."
Theresa beamed at her. "I love you too. Should we kill them, then?"
"Maybe." Justine shrugged. "I'm wondering if we should ask Derek if he knows them before killing them, though."
Theresa frowned. "You think?"
"It's kind of the polite thing to do, you know, given that it's his home and his visitors."
Derek chuckled aloud. God, he loved the two of them. Everyone needed friends like they were for each other. They were so inspiring.
Theresa sighed and looked at Derek. "Well? Do you know these home invaders or am I green-lighted?"
"Do I know them? Interesting question." Derek grinned at Quincy, huddled behind the kitchen chairs. "Hey, Quin. How's it going?" Ah…redemption felt so good. The brother who refused to believe in nonsense like Curses and dragons being held at flame-point. Such beautiful irony.
"Derek! There's a dragon in your kitchen!" Quincy was pale and wielding a wooden spoon like it was a sharp knife.
Derek leaned on the counter and folded his arms casually. "You know that spoon is flammable, right? Not so much protection against a fire breathing dragon."
Quin looked down at the spoon and swore.
"Not that it matters, of course. Dragons don't exist, as I'm sure you know." Derek tossed his house keys on the kitchen counter. "Are you all right, bro? You seem a bit tense. Would a beer help?" He hummed to himself as he grabbed a beer from the fridge and tossed it to his brother.
His terrified brother made no move to get it, so it hit the wall next to Quin's head and landed with a thud on the floor, rolling to a stop by Theresa's clawed feet.
"You need to work on your reflexes." Derek selected a beer for himself and a bottled water for Justine, who was in the doorway still pointing her gun at Quincy.
"Don't kill them just yet." He handed her the water. "I think we both need a drink."
She accepted it. "I can't make any promises about their safety."
"You can always shoot them later." He moved in front of her to block her line to his brother, whistling cheerfully. Somehow, he suspected Quin wouldn't be able to continue with his threats to have Derek locked up in a psychiatric facility anymore, and that felt good.
"Derek?" Wendy cleared her throat. "Can you call off the dragon?"
"I doubt it. She's pretty independent." He turned to Theresa. "Are you going to kill them?"
Theresa's face lit up. "Can I? I'd love to incinerate them, if that's okay." She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. "Justine gets cranky if I burn people up without weighing all my options first. You know, police get all agitated if enough missing persons get tracked to our door."
"If you want to fry these two, go ahead." Justine waved her gun at Quin and Wendy. "I don't like them."
Derek couldn't help but glance at his brother after that remark. Quincy's mouth was hanging open and Wendy was hiding behind him.
"Really?" Theresa looked at Derek hopefully.
"Not yet." He slung his arm over Justine's shoulder, chuckling at Theresa's crestfallen expression. Justine fit perfectly under his arm, and he liked having her there. He could feel the dagger in the sheath beneath her arm, and he stroked his fingers over it. "Why'd you guys stop by, Quin?"
Quincy continued to stare in horror at Theresa.
Wendy elbowed Quincy. "I don't think Derek's going to let it hurt us."
"It?" Theresa shot a flame at Wendy that ignited the ends of her hair. "There is no chance I look like an it? Just because you have breasts and shave your legs doesn't make you some sexy siren. I am way sexier and way more feminine than you, and if you call me an it one more time, I'll—"
&n
bsp; "Wow. Chill out." Wendy patted out the flames. "I apologize. Yeesh." She poked Quincy. "Get up and quit cowering." She stood up, and Derek was not as surprised as he might once have been to see that she was wearing a snug fitting tank top and a short black mini skirt.
Quincy eased to his feet and cleared his throat. "We stopped by because I decoded the encryption you left for me."
"The one on the Curse?" Derek glanced at Justine, and saw his own hope reflected on her face. "What did it say?"
Quin set his briefcase on the table, keeping an eye on Theresa. "It claims to be a Curse by someone named Satan Jr. The encryption wasn't particularly impressive. I translated it for you." He pulled a computer printout from his briefcase and started reading.
* * *
"I am a god. I will inherit the throne. No one shall best me, not even some worthless mortal who can't draw. I curse the worthless mortal, and all his male progeny. Death to you and yours at the same moment the Guardian kills you, until I have the Goblet in my hand and the throne beneath me. Until the Guardian's last breath is gone by your hand. Until I am acknowledged as the ultimate ruler. Yours truly, Satan Jr."
* * *
Quincy looked up. "Is this a joke? An attempt to make me believe there really is a Curse?"
"You're looking at a dragon, Quin. Draw your own conclusions about what's real." Derek sat down at the table and reread Quin's report more carefully. When he finished, he felt even less optimistic than he had when he'd first walked into his condo, which was an impressive feat. "It appears the instructions in the journal were incomplete. We have to set Satan Jr. up on the throne in addition to killing Justine and stealing Mona." Hell. How were they going to make that happen?
"Really?" Justine leaned over him, resting her hand on his shoulder as she read it over. When she finished, she sighed with weariness he felt to his bones. "You're right." She sank down next to him. "So, what do we do? Find Satan Jr. and negotiate him down?"
"I think we have to find a way to get him to take the Curse off. I don't think there's any other way to get it off." Negotiating with Satan's lunatic son? Just the idea of it made his head want to explode. Honest to God, all he really wanted right now was to collapse in a bed with Justine and fall asleep with her scent wrapped around him, but instead, they'd just piled on more crap. "Any suggestions on tactics?"
She rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand and leaned back in her chair, sighing with the same weariness weighing on him. "Well, the three things he wants most are his daddy's acknowledgement, me dead for screwing up his plans, and the throne of hell. If we can get him those three things, he might lose interest in Mona. As long as we can save her, I've done my job."
He didn't like that plan at all, especially the "me dead" part. "Or we could try to save you as well. Just a thought."
"I agree with Derek. I love you, Justine. You need to live, too." Theresa slapped her tail against a cabinet, leaving a dent in the wood. "Listen to the man."
Derek rested his arm on the back of Justine's chair and kneaded the back of her neck. "If we could give him hell, he might be willing to forego your death. Then we'd both get to live past next week."
She shot him a soft smile. "Wouldn't that be something, if we both ended up surviving?"
He met her gaze. "The odds are against it."
"I know." She touched his hand briefly. "I know."
He cleared his throat. "So, first, we need to find him. Any ideas?"
She sighed. "No, but—"
"I can help with that." Wendy was leaning against the counter, her arms folded, her gaze shrewd.
Theresa growled. Quin patted Wendy's arm and looked proud. Justine hooked one arm over the back of the chair and raised her eyebrow at Wendy. "And who, exactly, are you?"
"I'm going to be the next Sheryl Sandberg, except for the social media thing." Wendy fluffed her hair and strutted around the table. "I'm going to be the most powerful, richest, and most influential woman in corporate America. And the most beautiful and the best in the sack, even more than all the Jenners and Kardashians combined." She stroked her waist, and then ran her hands over her butt as if she were trying to seduce the room. "Men will worship me. Women will want to be me. And Wall Street will bug my phone in hopes they can steal some nugget of my brilliance."
Ah. Well, then, wasn't that an interesting world view and impressively grand life plan. Suddenly, Wendy's new persona and attire made a lot more sense to Derek. "Gee," he said, drily. "I can't imagine how you could accomplish all that so quickly."
Wendy snorted. "I have connections."
"Do you?" Justine raised her eyebrows. "Connections like Satan Jr. perhaps?"
Wendy's face lit up. "Damn straight!"
Justine and Derek looked at each other. "Gee, I feel like it's going be so tricky to figure out who's working with Satan Jr. this time around," Justine said.
"Yeah, I know. It's a tough one."
"Hey, you guys deserve a break," Theresa said. "This is great!"
"Hey." Wendy waved her hands. "This moment is about me, thanks. Focus here."
Derek propped his chin up on his hand. "Go ahead. We're listening."
"Yeah, totally." Theresa swished her tail restlessly, while Justine's fingers slid around the handle of her gun again. "G'head."
"Thank you." Wendy set her hands on her hips. "I wanted it all, so I went to the best. I get world domination in exchange for handing over the Goblet and the Guardian. Impressive deal for me, right?"
"Fantastic." Derek nodded.
"Clever," Justine said.
"You're an idiot," Theresa chimed in.
Quincy just stared at her in surprise.
"So, yeah, I've been hanging around the LaValle brothers for like ever, waiting for you guys to finally succeed in your relentless quest to locate the Goblet. Crappiest job ever working as an admin, but so worth it, because you finally came through."
Quincy frowned. "Working for me is a sucky job?"
"Of course it is." Wendy sneered at Theresa. "You're nothing in comparison to me. You see how Quincy fell for me? He's just an example of how the world will be my playground."
Quincy held up his hand. "Excuse me. Are you saying I was...practice?"
"More like a stepstool to get what I really wanted." Wendy chucked him under the chin, and Quincy's eyes narrowed. "I had to get close to you in order to keep tabs on the LaValle men, so Satan Jr. enhanced my sex appeal so you'd be so consumed for me that you'd never slow down enough to realize that everything Derek said was true."
A small groan emerged from Quincy, and he slid down the cabinet to the floor, swearing under his breath. Derek grimaced, not feeling quite as triumphant that his brother could no longer deny the truth. "It's okay, Quin. You couldn't have known."
Quincy looked up at him. "I was a fucking fool."
"Yeah, you were. Totally." Wendy stopped by the refrigerator, set her hands on her hips, spread her feet, and surveyed the room. "But playtime is over now, kiddos. As soon as I deliver you guys to Satan Jr, you'll all be dead, and I'll control corporate America. It's time for a woman to be at the top of all the lists, don't you think?"
Well, yeah, it was high time for some female domination in the world, but Derek kinda felt like maybe this wasn't the best way to make it happen.
A stream of flames shot past Wendy's head and set the paper towels on fire. "You're an idiot," Theresa snarled. "You're nothing more than a little peon with delusions of grandeur. You literally have no chance against us."
Justine jumped up and knocked the flaming paper towels in the sink, which Derek appreciated, given that burning down his condo might not be the best use of time due to their short deadline and all. "Did you send the Penyas after us?"
Wendy shrugged evasively. "I reported my findings to Satan Jr. He did the rest, though he did call off the Penyas when you killed so many of them. Something about pissing off the wrong person. So, technically, I've committed no crime." Wendy gave the room a haughty look. "I know what I�
�m doing. If he gets caught, I'm clean."
"Yes, so clean," Theresa growled. "Like a public sewer."
"So, let me get this clear. Everything we had was a complete lie, both personally and professionally?" Quincy asked again, looking shocked and kind of devastated. "You just used me?"
"Yes, for hell's sake, yes. Get over it already," Wendy snapped. "God, men are so needy."
"I like men the way they are," Theresa said coldly. "So, fuck off."
Shit. Now Derek was mad. There was nothing like learning that your first love is actually a disciple of Satan's asshat son to kill self-confidence. His brother deserved more. He walked over to Quincy. "She's not worth it, bro," he said quietly. "You can do so much better."
"There is literally no one better than me." Wendy surveyed the room. "So, are you all ready to die or what? I'd like to get this show on the road."
"We're not planning to die, but we'd like to talk to Satan Jr." Derek watched as Justine snuck up behind Wendy and pulled out her gun. She motioned for him to continue distracting Wendy. "Can you set up a meeting?" he asked. "Tonight?"
"Of course." At Wendy's reply, Justine lowered her gun and nodded with satisfaction. "He'll enjoy having the chance to kill all of you personally." Wendy glanced over her shoulder, ducking to the side when she realized Justine was behind her with a gun. "He's staying in town. Shall we head over now?"
"Works for me." Justine holstered her gun. "Derek?"
"I'm in."
Theresa's tail switched. "Do you think we should torture her first to make sure we can trust her?"
Wendy paled and moved next to Quincy, who immediately stood up and stalked to the other side of the kitchen. Excellent. Quin was already setting personal boundaries with her. He was going to be all right.
"She's already admitted she's taking us over there so he can kill us," Justine said. "What else would she be hiding?"
"Maybe." Theresa's tail switched again and slammed into Wendy's legs, knocking her to the ground. "Oops. Sorry." Her gold eyes glittered as Wendy dusted herself off. "I'll stay behind and guard Mona."
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