“Yeah, moving on,” I said. I didn’t like to think too closely about my value to Lucifer and my consequent dead-or-alive value to his enemies. That way lay indigestion and sleepless nights. “Look, the last two times there were deaths outside of the natural order it was because of Lucifer’s sons, so I can see why you and J.B. would think it would have something to do with him again. But really—how many more sons could he have floating around?”

Beezle arched his brow at me pointedly. “Lucifer has been alive for millennia.”

And therefore would have had millennia to reap and sow, as it were, I thought. Was I really going to have to go through this again—stumbling onto more secrets in Lucifer’s kingdom, hunting down another of his children? How many innocents would die before I figured things out?

We all stood silently, each of us brooding on our thoughts. The doorbell rang. Beezle fluttered up and away from the sink, clearly thrilled to have a reason to leave the dishes.

“I’d better see who it is,” he said, speeding toward the window.

“You have to finish the washing when you come back!” I shouted after him.

“With any luck, it will be something horrible and you’ll be distracted for the next several hours,” Beezle snapped back over his shoulder.

I looked at Gabriel, who gave me a sad little half smile. Beezle was probably right. My doorbell rang only when bad things were about to happen. Maybe I should tear the stupid thing off.

Beezle zipped back in through the kitchen window, pulling it shut behind him. “It’s cold out there. It’s Jude at the door.”

I frowned. Jude was a werewolf that I had met about a month ago. I was friendly with Wade, Jude’s alpha, but Jude himself didn’t think very much of me. He hated anyone related to Lucifer.

I trooped downstairs to see what Jude wanted. My household entourage followed me, Gabriel and Samiel crowding on the stairs and Beezle plunking himself on my shoulder.

“Hasn’t anyone in this house ever heard of privacy?” I muttered.

“No,” Beezle said. “Your business is my business, and you’re only going to tell the other two anyway.”

And if Jude was there to claw me to death, Gabriel and Samiel could probably intervene before too much bodily damage occurred.

I swung the door open and saw Jude through the exterior door standing outside on the porch with his back to us. This was standard for supernatural creatures—they couldn’t cross the threshold of my house without my permission. I pushed open the exterior door and tried not to think about the fact that Gabriel was standing right behind me, the warmth of his body radiating into my skin and making my clothes feel uncomfortably tight.

Jude turned when he heard the door open, and I gasped. His face and hands were covered in blood and his eyes were wild.

“You have to come. Wade’s missing.”

2

“I KNEW THERE WOULD BE SOME TRAGEDY FOR YOU TO attend to,” Beezle said.

“Shush,” I said, my stomach knotted. I liked Wade. He was straightforward and compassionate, two traits that were sadly lacking in most supernatural creatures that I met. “What happened, Jude?”

“Perhaps he should come inside,” Gabriel said. “Lest we draw the attention of your neighbors.”

Jude ran his hands through his shock of red hair. “I don’t have time for tea and biscuits. Wade’s missing and he told me to get her. So come now.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s going on,” I said, “and Wade wouldn’t want you running off without a plan. So come inside.”

Jude looked mutinous, like he might bolt off the porch just to spite me.

“Please,” I said, summoning up all my patience. Jude didn’t like me, and I didn’t think too much of him generally, but I respected Wade. I could be patient for Wade if not for his second-in-command.

Jude looked down at his hands, seeming to realize for the first time that they were covered in gore. “They attacked us in the night. They took so many.”

There was a universe of pain in his voice. Something inside me softened toward him. Whatever he might think of me, he obviously cared about his pack.

“Come inside,” I said again, and I took him by the arm. It was a mark of how lost he was that he even let me touch him in the first place.

He shook his head as he crossed the threshold, and then he looked down at my hand on his arm. “I’m okay.”

I correctly took that to mean that he wanted my hand off him, and I complied. We all climbed the stairs again—Samiel in the lead, followed by Gabriel, Jude, and me, lugging Beezle on my shoulder.

“Do you want to wash your face and hands?” I asked when we got upstairs. I really hoped he would. It was kind of hard to look at his face in its current condition.

“Yeah,” he said, and then he unerringly went down the hall to the bathroom and shut the door, like he’d been there before.

“He can probably smell the soap,” Beezle said knowingly.

We all sat around my dining room table and waited for Jude to return. A few minutes later he came back in, his hair damp, his face clean and smelling of the citrusy body wash that I used in the shower.

He sat down at the head of the table and looked at me with his eerie blue-gray eyes. Jude’s eyes are like a Siberian husky’s—pale with a dark rim. The color and his way of staring at you like he could see through to your soul always made me feel vaguely unsettled.