Cayman plopped down in the center of the sectional while I stopped just inside the room. “He’ll be back shortly.” Those odd eyes slid in my direction. “You can come in and sit. I don’t bite.” A slow grin curled his lips. “Unless you like that.”
I tensed.
“Cayman,” Zayne growled out in warning.
The demon ignored him, and I decided I was okay where I was standing. He pouted. “What about you, Zayne?”
“I’m fine. Thanks,” he said, leaning against the wall a few feet from me, hands in the pockets of his jeans and ankles crossed. He looked like he didn’t want to get any closer, and that didn’t make me feel any more comfortable.
“Sorry,” a deep voice interrupted. “Had to take care of a few things.”
My eyes widened as a tall, dark-haired guy entered the room from what I was guessing was the kitchen. He was dressed all in black—black jeans and black shirt. There was a good chance he was even taller than Zayne. Definitely not as broad, but taller. He was too far away for me to make out much of his features.
“Stony, what up?” he asked.
Stony?
I looked at Zayne.
He shot the demon a dark look.
Undaunted by the rather cold greeting, the guy strolled behind the couch and then came to a complete stop as his gaze landed on me.
His head tilted as he took a step closer to me, and then suddenly he was right in front of me, and his features pieced together. He was... He was stunningly attractive, with sharp, angular features and eyes that were golden in color, like Cayman’s, luminous and slightly curved, giving him a feline-like appearance. His lips parted on a sharp, audible inhale.
“What are you doing?” Zayne asked, pushing off the wall.
The guy didn’t answer. He lifted his arm like he was in a trance, his fingers stretching out toward me.
“Don’t touch me.” I staggered to the side, bumping into Zayne.
Zayne hauled me back against him, and within in a heartbeat, I was sandwiched between the two of them, my back warming from the heat Zayne was throwing off, and the same from the guy who stood in front of me. “Remember what I told you. He’s not going to hurt you,” Zayne said. “I was telling you the truth. He’s just being weirder than normal.”
“This is getting bizarre,” Cayman commented from the couch. “And kind of hot, which is not remotely what I expected.”
I blinked.
“What?” The guy in front of me blinked and then looked down at his hand. A look of surprise flickered across his face, as if he just realized what he was doing. His hand curled as he lowered his arm. “Whoa.”
“Whoa what?” Zayne shifted me so that I was somewhat behind him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m coming!” a female voice rang out, and I heard Zayne curse under his breath. “Sorry—”
“Everything is fine,” the new guy called out to her, taking a step back from us. “Don’t come in here, Layla. I mean it. Give me a few seconds.”
My stomach hollowed as the muscles along Zayne’s back tensed. “Shit.”
That also didn’t reassure me.
The demon lifted his chin. “Where did you find her? In a church or something?”
I started to frown. Did Zayne often find people in churches?
“No. I didn’t find her in a church. What kind of question is that?”
“Okay. Well, wherever you found her, you need to put her back, Stony.”
“I’m not a toy,” I snapped, stepping away from Zayne. “Or an inanimate object to be picked up and put back.”
Those fierce amber eyes landed on me. “Oh, I know exactly what you are.”
I went ramrod straight.
“How?” Zayne demanded. “How do you know what she is?”
“I’m not some basic demon, Stony.” His skin seemed to thin and dark shadows blossomed underneath. “I am Astaroth, the Crown Prince of Hell. I know.”
22
Holy canola oil, Zayne brought her to see the Crown Prince of Hell?
What in the holy Hell?
My fingers itched to feel the weight of my blades, but worse yet, I could feel the grace stirring alive in the center of my stomach. I beat it down, but it was still there, demanding to be let loose.
“You’re an actual prince?” I asked.
He inclined his head. “I’m the Crown Prince of Hell.”
My lips parted as I turned to Zayne. “When you dropped the bomb that we were going to see demons, you failed to mention one of them was the Crown Prince.”
“Sorry, I’d hoped Roth would keep that little fact to himself,” Zayne growled. “But he’s...unique like that.”
“That I am,” Roth replied.
“Uniquely annoying,” Zayne added, and when my gaze shot back to Roth, he pouted. “He is the Crown Prince, but he isn’t...all that bad.”
Roth sucked in a breath as he placed his hand over his heart. “Stony, did you just compliment me?”
Zayne ignored him. “He’s not a bad guy,” he repeated.
“Another compliment? Oh, wow, I’m going to blush,” Roth said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m very, very displeased that you brought that into my home.”
Zayne was suddenly in front of me, blocking me completely. “I came to you for help, Roth.”
“You brought that into my house with Layla here?” Roth repeated. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Okay,” Cayman said from somewhere behind them. “I am so curious as to what is going on here.”
Zayne ignored Cayman as I peeked out from behind him. “I know what she is—she knows what she is, but she is no threat to you. We’re here because we need your help.”
“Okay, I’m not waiting any longer, because I swear I hear Zayne’s voice and that—” the female who was probably in the kitchen announced. Roth shouted something before blinking out of existence in front of us. I gasped as he reappeared on other side of the couch just as Zayne stiffened beside me so much that I thought he’d shifted.
I looked up at him. It was like a veil had slipped over his face. If I thought he’d looked devoid of emotion before, I’d been wrong. He looked like a statue now. My gaze followed his to a girl who now stood close to the end of the couch.
The moment I saw her, I couldn’t look away. She was...beautiful in an unreal, ethereal sort of way, and if I hadn’t known what I was and what she was, I would’ve thought she was the Trueborn. With her long, white-blond hair and big, pale blue eyes, she looked like she had more angel blood in her than I did, but I knew what she was.
She was half demon, half Warden, and she had no angelic blood in her.
“Zayne,” she spoke, a smile racing across her face. “I am... I am so happy to see you. It’s been way too long.”
“Yeah. It has been.” His voice was gruff, strangely so. “Trinity? This is Layla. We, uh, grew up together.”
“Her name is Trinity?” Roth sounded like he’d choked, and I ignored that as I focused on someone who was just as rare as I was.
Layla was still staring at Zayne, and I had a feeling she hadn’t even looked at me yet. She reminded me of one of those porcelain dolls, the kind that was beautiful but also slightly creepy and possibly haunted. My gaze shifted to Roth.
What else was creepy was the way Roth was staring at me from where he stood beside Layla. He was looking at me like...like I looked at a plate of cheese fries.
I was really starting to feel superuncomfortable.
Layla finally dragged her gaze from Zayne and looked at me. Her smile faltered and her blue eyes grew wide. “Holy shit,” she whispered.
I froze. “Uh...”
“What do you see?” Roth asked, placing a hand on Layla’s arm.
Wait a second. I could maybe believe that the Crown Prince of Hell could sense what I was, but a hal
f Warden, half demon? That didn’t make any sense to me.
“I don’t know,” Layla said, stepping around Roth, but he didn’t let her get very far, holding on to her arm. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
My brows inched up my forehead.
“I really wish someone would fill me in.” Cayman sighed. “I’m feeling left out over here.”
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked Zayne.
“That’s an incredibly good question I’ve been asking,” Roth remarked, still holding on to Layla, and...and now she was looking at me like I was cheese fries with buttermilk ranch dressing.
“They shouldn’t know what I am,” I continued. “But those two are staring at me in a way that makes me very uncomfortable.”
“They shouldn’t be able to, but Roth is...just so special,” Zayne said. “Apparently.”
“Are you flirting with me, Stony?” Roth asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m doing, Roth.” Zayne turned to me, his gaze searching mine as he spoke, voice low. “I don’t think Layla knows what you are, but...” He glanced over at her. “She’s seeing your soul.”
“What?” My voice turned shrill as I looked back at them. Layla was now straining against Roth’s arm. “Are you really sure they’re good guys?”
Zayne shot Roth a look of warning as he said, “They are. You can trust me. And you can trust them.”
“I don’t know about that.” I stared at them. “They’re looking at me like they want to eat me.”
“Hopefully they’ll stop doing that,” Zayne advised. “Like right now.”
“I see that look,” Cayman commented. “I see it now. Layla, you might want to, you know, pull it back.”
“What?” Layla blinked and looked around the room, her cheeks flushing as she realized how far she’d stretched Roth’s arm. “Oh, wow. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Roth pulled her into his arms, holding her close—the way I’d seen Ty hold Jada. I didn’t understand that, the way he was embracing her. I didn’t understand any of this. “I had the same reaction.”
Layla placed her hands on Roth’s arm. She kept looking around me, seeing...my soul?
“What do you see, Layla?” Zayne asked.
“I see...” She rubbed one hand over Roth’s arm. “I see pure white...and pure black.”
Zayne looked at me, and I had no idea what that meant, but he looked surprised.
“The best of both worlds,” Layla murmured, and I shivered. “What is she?” she repeated, asking in a way that reminded me of a child asking for a snack.
“She’s a Trueborn,” Roth answered, and I felt my stomach pitch. He really did know what I was. “More commonly known as a nephilim.”
Layla’s mouth dropped open.
“Holy shitballs.” Cayman jumped up and vaulted over the couch—actually vaulted to the other side.
I felt rather proud of that reaction, considering the other two looked like they wanted to get really, really close and personal.
Zayne smirked. “Wow, Cayman, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move that fast.”
“What the Hell, Zayne? I told her to sit next to me. Actually sit next to me. That’s messed up,” Cayman said, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen a Trueborn. Jesus.” He backed up, eyes wide. “I am not about this kind of life.”
“I’m...I’m not going to hurt you guys,” I said, feeling sort of like a badass and sort of like a freak. “I mean, I don’t want to.” I looked at Zayne, unsettled by all of this. “Right?”
One side of his lips kicked up. “Right.”
“But you can,” Roth said, resting his chin atop Layla’s head. “There are only two things in this world that even I don’t want to come face-to-face with. Neither of them are a Warden.”
Zayne sighed.
“And one of them is a Trueborn,” Roth said.
I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “What’s the second thing?”
Roth’s smile was like smoke as he stared back at me, causing me to shiver.
“She has no reason to hurt you all,” Zayne said. “So, let’s not give her one, because if you know anything about a Trueborn, you know I’m not going to be able to stop her if you tick her off.”
Roth’s lips thinned. “And yet again, you’d bring her here, putting Layla at risk—”
“We came here for your help—”
“I like when you need me, Stony.” Roth grinned.
“God, I hate you,” Zayne grumbled.
“Hey! That’s the first time you used my name.”
Zayne rolled his eyes. “Anyway, we’re here because I trust that you guys can look past the fact that she’s part angel, especially if she’s looking past the fact that you all are demons.” Zayne’s voice hardened. “So, can we please get back on track?”
No one spoke, so I raised my hand. “I have a question.”
“What?” Zayne let out another sigh that reminded me so much of Misha that it caused my chest to hurt.
I looked over at Layla. “How do you see souls?”
She glanced at Roth before she spoke. “Do you know what I am?”
“Half Warden and half demon?”
“Okay. Do you know who my mother was—and I use the word mother lightly?”
“Lilith?” I said, remembering what Misha had told me. I could feel Zayne’s surprised jerk, but I ignored it. “Your mother is Lilith?”
“Yes, and my mother’s gifts manifested differently in me because of my Warden blood,” she explained, still rubbing Roth’s arms with her two small hands. “I can see souls. They’re like auras to me. White souls are the purest—Wardens and angels and humans without sin have pure souls.” She paused, her gaze flickering around me. “You have a pure soul and...”
“And what?” I squinted, wishing I could see what she saw.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen a soul so dark,” she said, and I blinked. “I mean, like demons don’t have a soul, so there’s nothing there.”
Roth pouted behind her.
“And really bad, really evil humans have very dark souls, but pure black? Pure black and pure white?” A look of wonder crossed her face. “I guess it’s because of what you are and that’s why I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“But why would it also be black?” I asked. “I mean, if the darker the soul means the more evil the person is...”
“I can answer that for you,” Roth offered helpfully. “Probably paying for the sins of your father. Don’t really think angels are supposed to be hooking up with humans.”
“Nah,” Cayman murmured.
“They did for a long time,” I pointed out. “There used to be thousands of my kind.”
“And that was how many hundreds of years ago? Things have changed since then. Procreation between angels and humans has been forbidden,” Roth replied.
“How do you know that?” Zayne asked.
“I’m a demon. I’m the Crown Prince. I know what is forbidden and what’s not.” His smile was smug. “Which makes me wonder why an angel would break that cardinal rule, create you and let you live.”
I lifted a brow at the whole let you live part.
“And it also begs the question of who your father is,” Roth said.
“Do you have other abilities like your mother?” I asked Layla, ignoring Roth’s question. “Like, can you take souls?”
“I can, but I don’t do it,” she said, meeting my gaze and obviously seeing the doubt there. “I mean, I try not to. There’ve been a few missteps in the past...” Her gaze flicked to Zayne, and I knew it in my bones. Misha had been right about Zayne missing a part of his soul. And I knew it had been Layla who had taken it. “But I do everything in my power not to do it.”
“And she’s almost always successful.” Roth dropped a kiss on top of Layla’
s head. “And even when she’s not,” Roth continued, “she’s still perfect.”
A soft smile pulled at Layla’s lips as she tipped her head back. The kiss Roth dropped was light and quick, but still floored me. I was thrown by the affection, at the obvious love between them. I was so confused.
I’d never been taught that demons could...love. Yes, they could experience lust, but love? Every lesson I’d had implied that they were incapable of such a human emotion.
Angels, pure-blooded ones, couldn’t love like humans. Hell, in the very beginning, Wardens couldn’t even experience it. They’d learned to love through interaction with humans. Over hundreds of years, it became a learned behavior. Had it been the same for demons?
I glanced at Zayne and he was quiet and tense, watching them through thick, lowered lashes.
A long moment passed and the demon prince led Layla over to the couch and pulled her down so she was sitting beside him. “Sit, Trinity. Apparently we all need to chat.”
I didn’t want to sit.
Zayne nudged me gently. “Go ahead.”
Resisting the urge to protest, I shuffled over to the couch and sat while Cayman stopped looking like he was trying to disappear into the wall. Instead, he appeared curious again.
Roth leaned forward, his gaze flicking from me to Zayne. “So, Trinity who may or may not be holy, how did you meet Stony over there? I am dying to hear the story.”
“Me, too,” murmured Layla.
I glanced at Zayne. His chin had dipped and he looked like he was a second from ripping the bookcase off the wall and launching it at Roth’s head.
“How we met isn’t really important at the moment,” Zayne said, his voice tight with impatience.
“Actually, I think it is important. I want to know how you two met,” Layla chimed in, her gaze shifting to mine.
I took a shallow breath. “He...he came to the community where I live.”
“You live in a community—a Warden community?” Surprise colored her tone.
“At the regional seat,” I said, not elaborating further, but Layla seemed to know what that meant.
Her eyes got even bigger. “And how long have you lived there?”
“Since I was young—seven or eight,” I admitted, unsure of what I could share that wouldn’t be betraying the clan that had protected me. “I was...hidden there. Very few knew what I am.”
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