“You did what?”

“I know. But I was desperate. He was going to kill himself. If you saw what he can do with that blade. Oh, did I mention his ginormous sword? And, no, I’m not speaking metaphorically. Though, I gotta say—”

“Charley, wait,” she said, interrupting again. “You bound him? What exactly does that entail?”

“You’re not usually this slow.”

“You’re freaking me out!” she literally screamed at me, and I realized we should have had this conversation face-to-face. I could hardly read her emotions over the phone. She really should take that into consideration.

“I know, sorry.” Maybe I needed to explain myself better. “Well, in other words, he can’t leave his physical body. He’s bound to it. And now Reyes Farrow, one of the most powerful beings in the universe, wants to talk.” My stomach clenched every time I thought about it. “And!” I added, almost forgetting the best part. “Dad comes into the office this morning and wants me to quit.”

“Seeing the son of Satan?”

“No, my investigations business.”

“Oh, right.”

“So what do you think?”

“About Dad?”

“No, I’ll deal with Dad.” Though, maybe I should worry. The last time he was behaving strangely, a man attacked me with a butcher’s knife. A sharp one. The knife, not the man. “About Reyes. I’m on my way to see him as we speak.”

“Charley, I can barely wrap my head around this, and my nine o’clock is here.”

“Seriously? You’re going to leave me now?”

“For the time being, I’d say run. But that’s just me. Call me in an hour.”

“Not likely,” I said, but she’d already hung up. Geez. I was totally counting on her.

It was a lot to take in. I understood that. Heck, Reyes Farrow was a lot to take in. And right now, I needed to be concentrating on Dr. Yost’s missing wife instead of traipsing about the country, hoping for an audience with the prince of the underworld. He was so angry after I bound him that he’d refused to see me. Thus my surprise when Neil Gossett called.

And now, everything was coming to the surface. All the emotion surrounding Reyes bubbled and simmered inside me. I had searched for him for so long, kept him in my prayers every night, only to find that he’d been in prison for over ten years for murder. I was disappointed, but for purely selfish reasons. I’d wanted to be with him. I’d wanted to save him that night when Gem and I were in high school, to take him away from that horrible situation, that horrible man. But he’d refused our offer of help. When I learned that he’d killed the very man who’d beaten him so badly that night, I felt like I’d failed. And I didn’t even know who he was at the time, that he was literally the son of Satan. I’d only recently found out.

“Being raised in hell had to suck,” I said aloud.

“Are you talking to yourself again?”

I looked over at the thirteen-year-old departed gangbanger who’d popped into the passenger’s seat. “Hey, Angel. How’re things on the other side?”

I’d met Angel the same night I met Reyes. He died over a decade ago when his best friend decided to do a drive-by without consulting him first. Since he was the driver, he was a tad surprised when his friend started firing out the window of his mother’s stolen car. In an effort to stop him, Angel paid the ultimate price. But the way I saw it, the price I paid on a daily basis was much heavier. No idea what I did to deserve the little shit. Not that I’d trade a single minute.

“Pretty cool,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore a dirty T-shirt and a red bandanna to frame a face caught between childhood innocence and teenage hellion. “My mom’s getting all kinds of new clients. She got this review or something in the paper, and they said she was the best cosmetologist in the city when it came to the pixie, whatever that is.”

“Wow, that’s awesome.” I socked him on the shoulder and he grinned in sheepish agreement.

“I guess,” he said. “So we got a case?”

“We do indeed. There’s a doctor near the university who tried to off his wife.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“A rich guy?”

“Yep.”

“And he committed a crime? Get outta here.”

I nodded and let Angel gloat. Nothing pleased him more than rich people doing stupid things. “Are you done?” I asked after he went into all the reasons rich people should get harsher sentences than poor ones instead of vice versa.

“There should be a scale. The richer you are, the more you risk.”

“Are you finished now?”

“I guess.”

“Do you feel better?”

“I would if you’d let me see you naked.”

“So this doctor,” I said, interrupting before he got too carried away, “he did something to his wife, then reported her missing. We don’t have a body, so I need you to follow him.”

“Did he get the job done?”

“That’s what I need you to find out. I’m hoping he’ll lead us right to her. You know, like revisit the crime scene or something.” I gave him all the info on Dr. Nathan Yost, including a physical description and his home address.

“Okay, but if he did it, why not just arrest him?”

“I don’t arrest people.”

“Then what are you good for?” he asked teasingly.

I offered him my best smile. The award-winning one, not that abominable runner-up. “That is a topic of great debate, handsome man.”

“Well, I don’t think this is a good idea.” He was playing with the air-conditioning vent, the sprinkling of potential along his chin and above his upper lip giving him that almost-a-man look. He had rich brown eyes with thick eyelashes and a square jaw any cholo would be proud of.

“You might be right,” I said, turning back to a motorcyclist with a death wish, if his swerving in and out of traffic was any indication. “He might not lead us anywhere, but it’s all I’ve got at the moment and I really want to jump on this.”

“No, you. Going to see him.”

Angel had never taken to Reyes. He didn’t seem able to see past the whole son-of-Satan thing. “Why do you say that?”