Soul Surrender (25 page)

“N
ot even twenty-four hours we've been broken up and you're already in his arms.” Damien chewed the corner of his mouth. His fitted polo was clinging to clenched muscles, and his hands were clutching his hips with tight, white-knuckled fists.

“What?” Drew pulled back, examining me.

“What?” Kayce chorused.

Well, shit. “What are you doing here, Damien?”

His badge was clipped to his black pants pocket and he fiddled with it, puffing an exasperated breath through tight lips. “I don't know about coffee man there, but Kayce called me. She said you needed help.”

“Same here,” Drew said. “She picked me up on her way over.”

I shot her a look, to which she responded with a shrug. “How was I to know you just broke up? You didn't say anything!”

She was right. I knew that. “Look, I don't think we're going to find anything in there,” I said. “I just talked to Mia, and it was made very clear that she has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Listen, y'all. I don't frequent these demon bars much.” Grayson stepped close, lowering his voice. “But something here smells different. I can smell the summoner who was at the mine. He's in there . . . and I'll bet the ranch that if we find him, we'll find Lucien.”

Ink barreled out the door to the bar, rushing toward me. “Oh, good. You're still here. You left this on the bar.” He waved my clutch and handed it to me. Flipping his long inky braid over a shoulder, he huffed back into the bar.

“Um, y'all . . . I hate to break up this fun,” Grayson said. “But, that guy—the one who gave you your purse back? That's our summoner.”

“I
nk?” I whispered, careful to keep my voice down.

“How do you know?” Kayce asked.

Grayson's response was an exaggerated eye roll and a tap to his nose. “Y'all have seriously got to stop questioning the schnoz.”

“So,” Damien growled, sending me one last hatred-filled glare. “Ink is the human responsible. But that doesn't lead us to the main suspects.”

I stole a glance at Jules, who seemed lost in thought. “Mia had an interesting theory.” I cleared my throat and proceeded to fill the gang in on her ideas about Heaven perhaps being responsible.

“It's preposterous,” Jules whispered.

“Look,” Damien said, swiping his hand through dark hair. “If we watch him, we can follow him and maybe he'll lead us either to someone of importance—or to Lucien directly.”

“There are way too many of us for a stakeout. We'll stand out to him in seconds.” I stated the obvious, and the group fell silent.

“We'll split up,” Damien said quietly. “The most pertinent parties in the stakeout are Monica and Grayson, right?” He scanned the group, and everyone nodded. “Fine. Monica, Grayson, and I will follow this Ink guy. The rest of you stay close, but not too close. We'll be in touch at each place.”

“What about George?” Kayce interjected. “He'll want to be here for this.”

Damien nodded. “Give him a call and let him know we may need his help.”

“Why do you get to go with Monica and Grayson?” Drew asked, eyes darkening.

“I'm sorry,” Damien quipped, bitterness cracking at the back of his throat. He looked back to me and Grayson. “Either of you ever done a stakeout before?” We were both silent, and he continued. “Either of you know how to follow someone without being spotted?”

Again, silence. Damien nodded, looking back to Drew. “Just as I thought.”

Kayce lifted a finger, quietly adding. “I have a suggestion . . . one that's probably not going to be popular.”

Damien raised an eyebrow at her. “Let's hear it.”

“George and I can both teleport anywhere. As can Julian and Mia. Drew cannot . . .”

“So?” Damien snipped.

Oh, shit. I knew where this was going. “So, it makes sense that he goes on the stakeout with the rest of you. Otherwise, if you need backup, it'll take us twice as long to get to you.”

Damien was quiet for a thoughtful moment before he grunted something that sounded vaguely like “Fine.”

 

Two hours later, four of us were tucked into my Toyota with Damien at the wheel. It was apparently less conspicuous than Damien's monster truck. A couple of times, I slid a glance to Drew in the backseat. He twitched a smile back to me; that same little half smile I'd grown to love so much through the years. Excitement pulsed through me—Drew and I had a chance at a real relationship now. One not hindered by my stealing pieces of his life. Or constantly needing to sleep with other men. We could be faithful. I could get my energy from him and not risk his life in the process. The thought still made me tingle. Tingly and nervous and excited all at once.

But neither of us dared to speak. Not with Damien right here—it just felt wrong.

“Man, it is quiet in here,” Grayson finally blurted out, stretching his lean, muscled body in the backseat. “I mean, I thought things were quiet on the ranch, but at least there you had the sounds from the animals.” He paused, glancing between everyone. “I mean, it's clear the three of you have somethin' to work out.”

“We have nothing to work out,” Damien grumbled.

I looked at my lap, fiddling with my cuticles. This was the last conversation I wanted to have with both guys right here.

“It's obvious,” Damien continued, hands gripping the wheel at ten and two. “Monica's done with me. And she's moved on to you. That was always kind of the plan, wasn't it?” He shot me a glance, and though his face was hard, the slightest sheen of moisture glassed over his eyes.

“Oh, Damien,” I whispered. “For once in my life, I was trying to handle things the right way. Coming and talking to you first instead of just running away or acting rash.” I swallowed, my chest tightening. “I'm sorry I hurt you. But you can't be mad at me for being honest with you.”

“Honest? Is that what you call it?” Damien swallowed a harsh laugh. “How long have you been fucking him?”

“Oh, come on, man!” Drew finally exploded into the conversation. “We haven't done anything. The moment you saw just—”

“Shut up!” Damien said.

“Don't tell me to shut up—”

“No, I mean it! Shut up!” Damien was rasping a whisper. “Ink's right there! Sure he's human, but he still might have good hearing.”

The car fell silent for what felt like the millionth time in the past two hours. He walked directly in front of the car, eyes glued to his phone, and we all ducked down.

“Oh, yeah,” Grayson whispered. “That's the scent from the mine. I'm sure of it.”

Ink stopped in front of a yellow Pantera and pressed his phone to his ear.

“Now, how in the Hell can a bartender at a Suck bar afford such an expensive car?” I asked quietly.

“Look, I can't find it!” Ink shouted into his phone, then looked around the parking lot with a quick glance. He yanked open his car door, then slid inside, clamping the phone between his shoulder and his ear while sticking the key in the ignition. “Fine, fine. I'll check again. But I'm telling you, it ain't there.”

His engine revved, and he tossed the phone into the passenger seat. His car glided out of the lot and onto the road.

After a few seconds, Damien crept onto the road. “Off we go,” he said, staying two cars behind Ink.

After about twenty minutes of driving, I had to admit that I was rather impressed by Damien's tracking skills. He always managed to stay just far enough behind that it wouldn't look suspicious. “You're really good at this,” I finally said aloud.

Damien snorted, a barely visible shake of his head. “Yeah,” he grunted. “I'm good at chasing what I want.”

After an inward sigh, I gave up on the chitchat. Another few minutes passed, and I was zoning out watching the desert whiz past us. Finally, my blood turned cold. “Wait—are we going—”

“Well, I'll be damned,” Damien said. The Pantera slowed and turned right into Hell's Lair.

“W
ell, granted most of what I know about our legal system comes from reruns of
Law & Order,
” Grayson said, “but this don't look good for Ink, here.”

“This is perfect,” I said. “It won't be suspicious at all if I'm in there!” I threw off my seat belt as Damien's hand clamped around my wrist.

“Wait,” he growled. “Just hold on. If this guy meant to capture you, not Lucien, it's best if you don't rush on in there.”

“Don't be ridiculous. There are a ton of people who know me in there!”

“You know where else there were a ton of people? Buckley's magic show didn't exactly stop anyone. . . .”

“I think Damien's right, Mon,” Drew said from the backseat.

“Shut up.” Damien shot a dagger-filled look in the rearview mirror.

“I was agreeing with you!”

“I don't care.”

“Oh, for fuck sake.” I rolled my eyes and hopped out of the car. “I'm going in. Worst-case scenario, I turn invisible.”

Damien muttered a curse and scrambled out of the car, too. “We'll be right behind you. Three dudes off to see some strippers.” He turned his attention to Grayson. “You'll be able to locate her scent even if she's invisible, right?”

His smirk widened, and he looked at me as though I were his next meal. “Oh, yeah. I've done it before. . . .”

I hung behind as Ink slipped past T and into the club. As I entered, I gave T a small wave, and he nodded in response.

“Haven't seen you around much the past couple of days.”

“I've been keeping busy,” I said while scanning the crowd for Ink.

“I'm not asking,” T said as his lips tugged to his eyes. It was subtle, but the smile was there. Barely.

The club's crowd was thinning out. I finally spied Ink at the bar. He, too, was cruising the room, seemingly looking for someone. His gaze swept to my right, and I quickly ducked into a corner before he could see me. Again, not that it would matter. But I'd mostly rather not be spotted.

I ducked behind T and shifted myself invisible.

“Nope,” T said to nobody. “I am definitely not asking.”

When I peeked around the corner, I spotted Ink's jet-black hair as he was slinking into Lucien's office. I managed to slip through the door before it closed behind him.

For my vision, the blackness of the room was fine. But I saw Ink walk right into a small office chair, slamming his shin into the hard wood.

“Fuck!” he hissed, shoving the chair out of his way. After knocking over another notebook he finally reached a desk lamp, which he switched on.

Oh, shit. The Newton's Cradle, one of the few items that will react when an immortal being is present, moved with my presence. The metal balls wildly clacked, swinging from side to side.

Ink's gaze darted back and forth, eyes wide and frightened. “Who's there?” he whispered. “Come on . . . show yourself.”

I tiptoed to the Newton's Cradle and placed my hands on it. It recalibrated to my powers, and the balls slowed to a stop. I held my breath, and finally Ink relaxed, puffing a breath out through his lips.

“I'm fucking losing it.” He ran a hand across his face, taking a moment to rub his eyes.

He opened some drawers, rummaging around the various pens and invoices tucked in there. “Shit,” he said, slamming the top one shut.

“Who's in here!?” A voice boomed from the other side of the door as it swung open.

Ink fell to the floor, rolling under the desk. Lenny stormed in, clicking on the overhead light.

Ink was a pretty large man, and his feet hung out from the other side of the desk more than a little. “Jesus Christ, man. Get up,” Lenny snarled in his nasally voice, shutting the door behind him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ink pushed to his feet, brushing some dirt off his pants. “Sorry—they're on my ass to find that stupid stone,” he grunted. “I didn't think people would notice me slipping in.”

“Lucky for you, no one did. But how stupid can you be, turning on the light in here? Use a flashlight, dumbass.”

I'd never heard Lenny be the alpha. He was always the sniveling little lackey, never the brains behind the operation. Something here wasn't sitting right.

“Besides—I told you. I checked everything. It's not here.”

Ink folded his muscled arms. “I can't believe what a little Houdini this succubus is. I swear—she's either a genius or the fucking luckiest demon I've ever known.”

“Believe me,” Lenny snorted. “She's no genius. She's a bitch whose luck is about to run out.”

My stomach rolled in my belly like a cold, dying fish. There was no way Lenny was smart enough to be behind all this.

“Call the girl. Arrange a meeting with the big guy,” said Lenny.

“But—he only wants to see me if I can provide the sunstone. . . .”

“Don't argue with me!” Lenny snapped, and ran a hand across his shiny, balding head. “We need more time. Lucien's not giving anything up. And he's the only one who can provide the extension. I'll go check the theater again; maybe it was on him at the time of the summoning. You go check the mine once more.”

Ink tugged his phone out of his back pocket and muttered a few choice words to Lenny as he dialed. “Hi,” he said. His voice was lower than normal and took on a more menacing tone. “I need to arrange a meeting with you know who. At the mine. Yes . . . tell him to meet me there in thirty.”

When I snuck out of Lucien's office with Ink, I found the boys sitting at the bar. Grayson inhaled, eyes blinking. “She's back,” he said. They all swallowed their drinks in a gulp, and together we rushed back to our car.

 

After a minimal time spent arguing, we decided to stay on Ink's tail instead of half of us breaking off to follow Lenny. Since we knew where Ink was going this time, we could let him get ahead of us without concern. Finally, once we arrived at the Valley, we parked and walked up to where he had done the summonings.

“Does anyone have a plan if we find Lucien?” Grayson asked.

“We fight like Hell and save him,” I said.

Grayson shot me a glance that was more than a little doubtful. “There's only one way to get Lucien out of his imprisonment. And that's to summon him.”

I raised an eyebrow at Damien. “Well, then, it's a damn good thing we've got a summoner here with us.”

Damien rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. “I need salt. A circle. Fire . . . how do expect me to just do these things without talking about it first? Communication. It's one of your biggest problems,” he grunted with a condescending head shake.

“Look. We can draw a circle in the dirt. I've got a lighter on me. . . .”

“Salt?” Drew asked doubtfully.

My heart plummeted.

“Oh. Right,” Grayson said, and tugged a fistful of something from his back pocket. “I always steal these from fast-food joints. I like my fries salty with ketchup.” He opened his fist to reveal a few packets of ketchup and three packets of salt. My grin sliced across my face, and I raised my eyebrows at Damien.

“Will that work?”

He took the salt and my lighter, rolling the items over his fingers. “I don't know. But it's worth a try if it comes to it.”

We were almost to the mine, and up ahead I could see the circular glow of a flashlight scanning the perimeter. “I should call Kayce,” I said. “Let her know that we're here. She should probably join us sooner than later.”

Drew nodded and pressed his phone to his ear. “I got it,” he said. “Might as well be useful for something.”

I tilted my head and offered him a half smile. A snort from my right broke the spell of the moment, and I withdrew my hand, stopping myself before I squeezed Drew's hand or offered any sort of affection that Damien might take the wrong way.

“Kayce got to George, and they're teleporting in at the parking lot so no one hears them,” Drew said, hanging up. Within a few minutes, they were walking up behind us.

George had his arm slinked around Kayce's svelte waist, and she draped hers across his shoulders. “What do you say we go kick some ass?” she said with a grin.

As we walked closer, I saw Ink on his hands and knees, looking under rocks and such. A
crack
sounded through the air, and I gasped at the noise, freezing. Everyone in the group heard it as well, and we all crouched behind some rocks. There, walking up to Ink, was Adrienne.

Her platinum blond hair was twisted into a sophisticated bun, and she wore a flowing white skirt with a blue tank. She folded her arms underneath her breasts. “You called?”