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Authors: Cynthia Garner

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As was the shock, fear, and guilt at taking over an innocent’s life here on Earth, a woman who’d been a wife and mother. A
queen. Granted, she had been queen of one of numerous Bronze Age tribes that inhabited Ireland back then, but she’d been a
queen nevertheless. And while the queen no longer had control of her own body, her personality—her
soul
—had become woven with Keira’s to make her the woman she was today.

A woman who wanted to do better. To
be
better.

He shifted on his seat. “Imagine what being imprisoned for thousands of years would be like. Think of what that could do to
someone’s psyche.”

She couldn’t picture it. She thought someone locked away, no freedom of choice, would indeed have damage to their emotional
well-being. It would make her insane, that was certain.

As the waiter came to the table, Finn let go of her hand. He lifted his hip and pulled out his wallet. After looking over
the bill, he fished out two twenties. He handed them to the young man with a murmured “Keep the change.”

“I didn’t invite you to lunch so you’d pick up the tab,” Keira said. She looked at the waiter and held out one hand. “May
I see the bill, please? I’d like to pay my half.”

“I’ve got it, Keira.” Finn motioned the server to leave. The young man walked away and Finn said, “Let me be chivalrous for
once, okay? I don’t get that many opportunities.”

She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Fine. Far be it from me to insist on my independence at the cost of your
male ego.” She smiled to soften her teasing. “Thank you.”

His answering smile reflected in his eyes. “My pleasure.” He leaned closer and cupped his palm around the nape of her neck.
His thumb rubbed lightly against the base of her head. The warmth and weight of his hand against her skin made her feel feminine
and cherished. “So,” he said softly, snagging her gaze with his, “will I see you later?”

She’d promised Javier she’d meet him at the club this evening—he’d said he had a message for her from Stefan—but she couldn’t tell Finn that. He hadn’t been too pleased to see her go off with the vampire before. He certainly wouldn’t
understand it now, and she couldn’t explain why she was doing it.

“I have plans tonight,” she murmured and tried to keep from moaning at his touch. Despite her efforts she couldn’t keep herself
from tilting her head to give him better access to muscles that were tight from stress. But it was more than that. She loved
his touch, the feel of his strong fingers kneading her flesh. Taking a deep breath, she straightened and looked him in the
eyes. “Finn, what are we doing?”

He cocked a brow. “I’m giving you a little neck massage, and you seem to be enjoying it.”

“I am, but that’s not what I meant.” She reluctantly pulled away. She couldn’t think straight with his hands on her. “Where
are things going with us?”

She half expected him to prevaricate, to say something like
Where do you want things to go?
Instead, he studied her, his eyes dark, intent, and interested. He leaned toward her and brought his hand to her face, cupping
her jaw. Her heart quickened as she waited for his reply.

His phone buzzed. “Hang on a sec.” He pulled his hand away and fished his phone from the pocket of his jeans. It vibrated
again before he pressed a button and stared down at the screen. His face twisted into a scowl. “Damn it.” Looking up at her,
he said, “I’m sorry, I have to go.” He held up his phone. “Duty calls.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “But I guarantee
we’ll finish this conversation soon.” He bent and cupped her face in one broad palm, and pressed his mouth to hers, a long,
lingering melding of lips that stole her breath as they always did. He straightened, letting his hand linger against her jaw
a moment before his mouth twisted with regret and he turned away.

Keira watched him walk out, wondering what the text was about to put such a dark look on his face. Of course, with secrets
of her own, she couldn’t begrudge him his. With a sigh she took her napkin off her lap and placed it on the table, then stood
and headed toward the door. She had more jewelers to hang out with this afternoon.

Joy.

F
inn swung his leg over his bike and sat on the leather seat, wincing as heat bit through his jeans. The text he’d received
was from Lucifer, telling him to call. Apparently his father had gotten tired of him not answering his phone.

He pressed the three-digit speed dial and waited for Lucifer to answer. When he did, Finn said, “What’s up?”

“We’ve just got report of a demon attack against a human near Fashion Square mall,” Lucifer said, his voice taut. “I want
you to check out the crime scene. Discreetly, of course.”

“Of course.” Finn frowned. Keira came out of the restaurant and lifted her hand in a wave before turning and walking away.
Where was she going, anyway? She’d been evasive at lunch, though that was nothing new with her, especially lately. She seemed
to love to tease him, which he didn’t mind in the least. Someone who liked you well enough to tease you without malicious
intent, well, there was promise of something more there. Something deeper.

Which he couldn’t give her, he reminded himself. She already had more of a hold on him than anyone else ever had, and it made
him jittery. He didn’t like feeling jittery. If things went further between them, well, he had a lot of enemies. Someone could
decide to use her to even a score.

With his gaze centered on her swaying ass, Finn asked his father, “Since when do we go check out anything at a crime scene?
We don’t report to the council, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.” His father’s aggravation came over the line with clarity. “But the closer the next rift gets, the more
volatile things are between humans and prets. And since most humans are still ignorant of demons’ true existence, I’d like
to keep it that way. It’s better for them. It’s definitely better for us.”

“Right.” Finn watched Keira until she turned a corner and went out of sight. He’d figure her out one day. He focused his full
attention back on the phone call. “It won’t do for humans to start thinking that maybe their holy books are actually true.”

Lucifer heaved a sigh. “Do you remember what happened when they became aware for the first time that vampires and werewolves
were real? And living next door? Fathers set sons on fire. Sons staked fathers through the heart. Special orders of silver
bullets went through the roof.” He paused then said quietly, “What do you think will happen when they realize that demons
who tempt them to wickedness, who thwart God’s will at every turn, as they believe, are real?”

The reaction wouldn’t be pretty. “And in order to downplay that, you stuck with the name Lucifer Demonicus?” Finn couldn’t
wait for his father to wiggle out of that one.

Another long-suffering sigh. “Up to this point people have thought it was my shtick. A gimmick. Besides, how many dealings
do I have with humans? Very few. A miniscule amount, really, and usually by accident.”

He was right. Most of the companies Lucifer controlled that had anything to do with humans were set up very carefully to keep
his name off the record. Ninety-nine percent of humans had no idea that Lucifer existed, let alone that he owned the company
that built the mall they shopped at, or held major shares in the company that financed their home mortgage.

As long as those companies operated legitimately, and Lucifer was adamant that they did, his name was never brought up. He’d
grown quite wealthy over the millennia directing things from behind the scenes, and Finn knew he aimed to keep it that way.
Those who knew him regarded him with respect. Those who didn’t know him, had heard of him and held him in awe. And fear.

Which was the way Lucifer preferred it.

“Where’s the crime scene?” Finn asked. After his father gave the address, he ended the call. Finn slipped his phone into the
back pocket of his jeans and started up his bike. The throaty roar of the bike’s engine and the raw, powerful vibration beneath
his body was the reason he had a bike and not a car. It somehow made him feel invincible and unrestricted.

After only a few minutes he pulled his motorcycle up to the curb in front of a vacant dirt lot on North Scottsdale Road as
one of the human liaisons, Piper Peterson, got out of her car. She was in her usual attire, a dark gray pant suit with a no-nonsense
button-down white blouse. Black boots with clunky heels completed the professional outfit. He didn’t know her well, but every
time he saw her he thought she needed to loosen up a bit. She ducked beneath the yellow tape that cordoned off the scene and
began talking to a uniformed officer who stood just inside the perimeter.

Finn approached the area and saw the demon, shoulders slouched, sitting off to one side on the tailgate of a battered pickup
truck. The truck had a bright orange sticker on the driver’s-side window, signaling that it was an abandoned vehicle and was
due to be towed. The human was in the back of an ambulance, blood on his face and hands, and a perpetual wince on his battered
face.

As Finn started to stoop to go under the police tape, another uniformed officer stopped him. “This is a crime scene, sir,”
he said. “Only law enforcement personnel are allowed.”

That drew Piper’s attention. “Finn,” she greeted him. She thumbed over her shoulder at the demon. “I just got here myself.
Is he one of yours?”

“Yep.” Finn stared at the police officer and then looked at Piper again. “I was asked to check things out.”

“I’ll vouch for him,” she said to the uniform. “Let him in.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He lifted the tape without a word.

“Thanks,” Finn murmured. He walked toward Piper, his boots kicking up dust as he went. “What’s the story?”

 She started heading toward the pickup truck where the demon waited. Finn fell into step beside her. “According to the first
officer on scene,” she said, “the man over there”—she gestured toward the ambulance—“was walking through this lot, minding
his own business, and your demon attacked him without provocation.”

“Uh-huh.” Rarely did demons attack without provocation of any sort, but it wasn’t impossible.

“The human has a broken nose and a few cracked ribs. Contusions and abrasions on his knuckles where he fought back. Nothing
serious, though.”

“Whether the attack was provoked or not, he should consider himself lucky his injuries weren’t more severe,” Finn muttered.
Not many humans tangled with a demon and were able to walk away from the encounter.

“Yeah, well, you’d better keep that opinion to yourself. It won’t go over well with the victim. And since you’re here acting
in the role of liaison, you should know that part of a liaison’s job is to try to smooth things over. You know, rather than
further enflame the situation.” She shot him a sidelong glance.

“Funny.” It was, actually. He’d had no idea Piper had such a dry sense of humor. “I’ll do my best not to escalate things.”

“Thanks. That’ll make my job easier.”

She turned and headed toward the ambulance. Finn kept going until he reached the pickup truck. “I’m Finn Evnissyen,” he said.

The demon straightened from his slouch. His alarmed expression told Finn the guy knew who he was and, more important, what
he did. “I didn’t start it, I swear,” the demon said. “That guy jumped me. I was only defendin’ myself.”

“Let’s start with something simple,” Finn said. “Like your name.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I’m Sam Wiseman.”

“All right, Sam. Tell me what happened.”

As Sam began his story, Finn tapped into his chameleon heritage and took on the abilities of a vampire. Not anything physical,
but rather dipping into the way vampires could use their senses. This meant he could see little fluctuations of body temperature,
blood flow and micro-expressions on the demon’s face, and thus know when the guy was lying. Throughout Sam’s explanation,
from everything Finn was reading, the demon was telling the truth.

Finn dropped the chameleon routine and went back to his normal self. Sam glanced around, his brows drawn low over his eyes.

“What is it?” Finn asked.

“I thought…” The guy shook his head. “I could’ve sworn I got a whiff of vamp. Faint, and only for a few seconds, but it was
there.”

That was one of the hazards of drawing on his chameleon abilities. Whatever type of preternatural he drew from, the scent
of that pret came along with it. Being only half-chameleon, Finn didn’t have enough natural energy to hide the scent like
a full-blood chameleon demon could. So any pret with a sensitive schnoz could smell him without much difficulty at all. Since
few in the demon community knew about chameleons, and hardly any outside of demons knew about them, Finn had to play it cool.
It was to his advantage to keep his abilities secret. “I didn’t smell anything,” he said with a dismissive shrug. Which wasn’t
untrue; he could never smell himself when he walked in another pret’s skin, so to speak. He always had to assume the odor
was there and try to deal with it the best way he could.

“Oh. Well, maybe it was a residual thing. A vamp could’ve passed this way a while ago.”

“That’s probably it,” Finn said. It actually was a logical explanation. He’d heard plenty of shapeshifters talk about all
the various scents they could pick up, some new, some hours old. “Look, you can go ahead and leave,” he added. He pulled a
small notepad out of his back pocket along with the stub of a pencil. “Write down your address. And let me give you some advice.”
He leaned forward and looked into Sam’s eyes. Lowering his voice, he said, “Walk the ol’ straight and narrow for the time
being, or you and I will have another chat. And next time I won’t be so friendly.”

This was the first time he’d been asked to investigate a crime scene, and he hoped it’d be the last. If he didn’t know better,
he’d think his father was running scared, having him come down here to smooth things over. Since when did they care if the
preternatural community or humans got upset?

Of course, there was the incentive of keeping the existence of demons on the down low. It was a sound strategy, he admitted,
one that had allowed him certain latitudes over the centuries. If no one knew you existed, you could pull all sorts of crap
and blame it on the other guy.

Sam jumped off the tailgate. He wrote his name and address on the pad and handed paper and pencil back to Finn while glancing
at the ambulance. “Look, uh, Lucifer doesn’t need to know about this, right? We can keep it between you and me?” He swung
his gaze back to Finn.

Finn would say one thing for dear old dad. He still had the respect, and fear, of most in the demon community. “I hate to
break it to you, buddy, but who do you think told me to come over here? I don’t normally do liaison work, you know.”

“Oh. Right.” Sam met Finn’s eyes. “Thanks. And don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope we never meet again.”

Finn grinned. “I agree.” He sobered and put one hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Seriously, don’t fuck up again, Sam. We don’t
want humans to start getting itchy trigger fingers, you know what I mean? From now on, some human gets mouthy with you, you
walk away. You get me?”

“Yeah, I got you.” A muscle twitched in Sam’s jaw and finally he started acting more like a demon. “It’s hard, though. Letting
some puny human spout a bunch of tripe and not do anything to make him regret it.”

“For now, that’s how it has to be.” And for a split second Finn wondered why. Preternaturals were stronger than humans and
in most cases more intelligent, more capable. After all, they’d come from technologically advanced people in the other dimension.
Maybe keeping the rift open longer wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Finn pondered that for a moment, and as Sam walked away he decided that his father was right, about the rift at least. Maintaining
the status quo with humanity was the best way to keep everyone in the preternatural community safe, including demons.

But as soon as he was done with this final mission for his father, he was done with being told what to do. He’d be the boss,
and others could do the legwork.

“What’s your guy’s story?”

He turned to see Piper standing a few feet away. She had her own pad and pen in hand.

“The human attacked him, not the other way around. He defended himself enough to get the guy off him.”

“Huh.” She glanced back at the ambulance. “And yet your guy walks away without a scratch, while the alleged attacker sits
in the back of an ambulance with a broken nose and busted ribs.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if
your
guy can’t hold his own in a brawl. He should be more careful who he picks fights with.” He walked until he could see the
human. “Sam told me the truth when he said the human started it.”

“How do you know that?” she asked. Her head tilted to one side. “You carry a box with you?”

Finn had been around enough law enforcement officers to know when they referred to a “box,” it was shorthand for a polygraph
machine.

Since Piper knew he was a demon, he didn’t mind giving up some information. “In a way.” He shrugged. “I just know when someone’s
lying.”

“That’s a handy little trick to have.”

“You can’t tell me you’ve never seen it done. Vamps do it all the time. You’ve surely seen Knox do it,” he said, referring
to one of the quadrant’s vampire liaisons. “Or even Tobias Caine,” he added. “You know him, right?”

“Yeah, I know him. I worked with him, briefly, on a case several months ago. I haven’t seen much of him lately, though, now
that he’s a council member.” She put one hand on her hip, and it drew his attention to the gun holstered at her waist. He
had a feeling she was as sharp with that gun as she was at doing her job.

“What do you need from me?” he asked.

She sighed. “Nothing, really.” She directed a frown at the man in the back of the ambulance. “I tripped him up and he admitted
he jumped the demon first. Not knowing, of course, that he was a demon.”

“And does he know now?”

Piper shook her head. “I know how secretive you guys are.”

“I’m gonna take off, then,” he said. “If you want, I’ll e-mail you a report of sorts.”

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