Remembering his cock inside me, I grinned. He was a brutal man, but I would willingly take on his beast any day. The color of his tux brought out the blue streaks in his hair. Much like my own.
I shook my head, clearing it, when the elevator stopped in the lobby, which I’d never seen since we always went straight to the parking garage. We walked out into the foyer as a group, and I held back my gasp at the sight, eyes wide. The grand space was beautiful luxury, all whites and blacks spread around the furniture and architecture. A room off to the side looked to hold a bar with couches and high-top tables that I wanted to explore, but we had places to go and Lanier was at my back, nudging me toward the exit.
At the front was a doorman, holding open the door for us. I nodded at the older gentleman, dressed in a black and white uniform, pressed and wrinkle free. His gray hair peeked out the back of his black and green flat top hat. He nodded and smiled politely at me.
I didn’t smile back.
There was a black stretch limo waiting at the curb, a tall man dressed in an all black suit, standing at the curb and holding the back door open for us. I looked at the guys, each one of them wearing steely expressions, dark and dangerous.
It was showtime.
They all moved aside for me to get in first, Cabe giving me a comforting wink as I walked past him. I looked the driver up and down, feeling the gun that Lanier strapped to my calf, under the length of the dress. I wanted to put it higher on my thigh, but he said that it would show if I bent down or moved too quickly, as the dress was basically molded to my body.
The inside of the limo looked like the ones I’d seen on TV, dimly lit with black leather seating and silver accents running along the ceiling. There was a bottle of champagne and four glasses sitting on top of a little bar that sat between two seats across from me.
Cabe sat down on one side of me, Quint on the other, and Lanier took a seat on the cushions at the back of the car.
“How long do you think it’ll take to get there?” I asked, not liking the silence. I was antsy since my power had been layering and layering over the last couple of hours. It was anxious to be let out, my fangs vibrating in my gums, the bond shaking and aware, Bestia pacing rapidly in the back of my mind.
“Ironically, Father owns a church,” Quint said, grabbing my hand and inspecting the lace attached to the ring on my middle finger. It fit perfectly, as if Lucifer had known my ring size. Fucking creepy. “It’s about fifteen minutes from here, and I’m willing to bet that’s where we’re going.”
“He owns a church?” I asked, shocked and confused. “He’s the Devil…”
“Who was once an Angel,” Lanier supplied.
I thought about that, pausing briefly. None of this world made sense to me, but I could feel the rightness, the truth of it, as the guys spoke. This was all real, and I was about to meet the Devil. I turned to Quint, asking, “Since Lucifer was originally an Angel, don’t you have Angel blood too?”
“No,” he spat, dropping my hand. I looked down at my empty palm and frowned.
I really didn’t like that…
His emotions took a hit, causing hot anger to flash in my mind, bitter resentment following suit. I looked to Cabe and found him staring at me, blue eyes open, soul blazing.
For the first time, I was able to see what made the three of them a family, brothers.
They all had come to resent what they were. Nephilim. A Warlock.
Lanier wanted to Fall out of guilt, hating the race of creatures that killed his father, Quint hated that he was a Demon, and Cabe spent eleven years watching me, forced to endure all that time feeling helpless and angry. All of them held hate in their hearts for…The Maker.
“What?” Lanier questioned. I realized I must have said that last part out loud.
“The Maker. Guys…” I put my head in my hands for a moment, trying to center my thoughts. I was figuring something out, I just didn’t know how important it was—if it was important at all. I looked back up, all of their eyes trained on my face with concern and confusion written in their features. “All of us are the same. We all carry hate in our hearts; we all resent the lives we were given.”
“Not me,” Cabe replied, sitting forward. “I never really planned to Fall, I just wanted to find you and, at the time, I thought you were Human, so it would have been easier for me to protect you if I remained Nephilim.”
“And now?” I pressed, knowing the truth.
He sat back and dropped his head, looking down at his hands as if he were ashamed of the truth. “And…and now I’m angry.” He looked back up, this time it was clear that he understood where I was going with my thought. His face turned to stone. “I had no idea you were Nephilim. I thought that you were a Human and I didn’t know how to explain what I was to you. If I had known that all this time, we were the same I would have come to you sooner, I would have found you. But I was tricked by my visions, kept in the dark for a reason.”
“Exactly,” I stated, sitting up farther, gaining all of their attention. “All of the events that have taken place this week have been set in motion specifically to get us all together. Don’t you see it? Lucifer—who knows what The Maker is up to—decides that he wants me safe, so he sends the three of you to find me. Only for Cabe to find out that he’s known the girl you were sent to find all long, even though I’m different than what he expected. Now he also harbors hate for his situation. All of us are angry, all of us have pain, all of us have been through shit. Now we’re all sitting here, bonded, confused, and on our way to meet with the Devil. Are you telling me that this wasn’t planned? Orchestrated from the beginning? Why else would Cabe have visions of me for as long as he did? Why haven’t we questioned that yet?”
“Whoa, calm down, Pup.” Quint put a hand on my back, snapping out of the dark place my question took him to and now wholly focusing on me. I was getting worked up because it made sense. We were in this together for a reason, and the Devil was about to tell us why. “We can speculate all we want, but we won’t know until we get there.”
“I know,” I sighed. “I’m just trying to figure out if there is anything we missed. I can’t help but think we’re walking into a trap.”
“We are,” Lanier’s voice was full of shadows, layered and altogether terrifying. “But we won’t fall for it. We’re smart. We’re stronger than he thinks.”
“We better be, because we’re here,” Quint said, his voice sounding similar to Lanier’s.
The bond bucked and pulled between us. My power went on the defense, my fangs dropping without permission. This was most definitely a trap.
The door was opened by the driver, who had yet to say a word to us, and we all stepped out. The summer air was balmy against my skin, it tasted wrong, the pit in my stomach bleeding nausea into my system. The sun was still out but from the angle it was at in the sky, the giant church in front of us looked like a shadowed nightmare.
Tall, dark, gothic, and full of inky shadows, the building was made of old stone. Gargoyles lined the many ridges and grooves. They sat, hardened in concrete, in front of towers that jutted out, and the windows along the top of the building sat barricaded by iron bars. On the lower floors, the windows were made of thick stained glass, and I wondered why iron bars were only necessary on the top floors, but I was distracted by the cobblestone walkway in front of us, leading to a set of stairs. Huge wide double doors sat at the top, welcoming anyone who dared to knock.