The Devil's in the Details (26 page)

But then she pulled away. Samael stiffened. And I was left to wonder if all that Red Bull was making me hallucinate.

“It’s not enough that she’s taking control,” Lucy went on. “She wants to rub everyone’s nose in it. Even the judge looks pissed.”

I turned my attention to the man sitting on my mother’s right. Judge Landon Parks, aka chief demon of slavery and oppression. He had salt-and-pepper hair, regal features, and a grim expression that
said he’d like to slap a pair of handcuffs on whoever was responsible for the plate in front of him.

I swallowed. Hard.

“Maybe ma changed the menu because she really likes salmon,” I heard myself say.

“And maybe Bella will make a heartfelt toast to the happy couple.” Lucy motioned to her sister, who sat across the table looking as gloomy as ever in her usual old-lady black dress. Her eyes blazed with fury.

Eyes that were trained solely on me.

Uh-oh.

“I’ll be right back. I need to check on the dessert.” I retreated into the kitchen, only to run smack-dab into the young Legion rookie who’d become my shadow over the past few days.

Could my night get
any
worse?

“Are you crazy?” I gripped Smith’s arm and tried to steer him toward the back door, but he wouldn’t budge. “There are two dozen hungry demons in the next room who would love to rip off your head and have it as the main entrée.”

“So?” He shrugged away and puffed out his chest. “I’m not scared.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m not. Really.” He glanced nervously around at the prep cooks, who seemed oblivious to us as they rushed to plate the entrée. “I need to talk to you.”

“It’ll have to wait. I’m in the middle of a rehearsal dinner.”

“I know. Satan’s getting married and you’re in charge. This is important.” His mouth tightened as he seemed to gather his courage. “I’ve got a message from Cutter.”

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the statement hadn’t snagged anyone’s attention, and then I grabbed Smith by the arm and steered him into a nearby walk-in refrigerator.

My teeth started to chatter as soon as I pushed the door shut behind us. Hey, it’s a demon thing. Any cold is too cold, which meant the fridge was the safest place for this conversation.

I hugged my arms and nodded. “You’ve got five minutes.”

“It’s about the plan for tomorrow.”

“What does he want me to do?” I managed, my teeth knocking as I tried to get the words out.

“When the target shows up at the wedding, your job is to steer him outside into a waiting car.”

“I’m supposed to send him away when the whole point is for him to be at the wedding in the first place?”

He nodded. “Tell him he was only invited to the reception, not the actual ceremony. Brides do that all the time, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Tell him you’re sending him for cocktails or something at a different location until it’s time for the reception. Tell him you’ve got limos shuttling everyone over. We’ll have one there to pick him up and drive him to a takedown location.”

“Where?”

“Someplace dark and empty.”

“What if Azazel realizes that something is up?”

“He won’t. Not until he’s in the car, and then it’ll be too late. I’ll be following just in case.” When I arched an eyebrow, he added, “I can handle myself.”

“Will there be other backup?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “The thing is, this isn’t technically a Legion-sanctioned kill. Not that they don’t want Azazel dead. It’s just that Cutter can’t risk bringing anyone else in. He can’t risk another Legion officer making the actual kill.”

Because in order to gain his soul, Cutter had to be the one to deal the final blow to Azazel.

“You’re involved,” I pointed out.

“True, but I’m not an official slayer.” He actually looked sheepish. “Cutter’s been training me for tryouts when I turn twenty-one, but I’m still a civilian. Which is why I’m the one watching you. There are some bad forces out there and Cutter didn’t want to draw any more unwanted attention to you. Putting a bona fide demon hunter on your tail would have been a red flag, and it would have meant alerting other Legion members.”

Any more unwanted attention?
My brain snagged on the words and my chest tightened. Had I already drawn someone’s attention? That would explain the threats and confirm the nagging feeling that my family wasn’t really out to kill me.

It was someone else. Another demon? Or a Legion member?

I opened my mouth to beg for more info, but Smith reached for the door. “I have to get out of here. I’ve already said way too much—”

“Wait.” I grabbed his arm. “I need to talk to Cutter.”

“Do you have questions about the plan?”

I shook my head. I didn’t have questions so much as comments.
Be safe. Watch your back. I miss you.
“Where is he?”

“Still off the grid, and he’ll stay that way until tomorrow night.”

“I need help with these plates!” The headwaiter’s voice boomed nearby.

As much as I wanted to keep Smith there and grill him for more information, I knew it wasn’t safe. “You should go before the entrées get sent out.” I ducked my head outside the fridge to make sure the coast was clear. “I have a feeling the natives are going to riot.” I walked out first, blocking the way so he could scoot by and slip out the back door.

I spent the next two hours scarfing down ladyfingers—soaked sponge cake, thankfully, since my mother had ditched the real thing—and praying for divine intervention.

I know, right? But let’s face it, the forces of evil, all of whom were less than ten feet away, cared little about my success. I needed something bigger on my side, so I sent up a prayer to the Big Guy that I made it through tonight and tomorrow in one piece, and that Cutter stayed safe and sound and managed to reclaim his soul.
And
that my ma never found out I’d gone over her head on this one.

Ask and ye shall receive.

At least when it came to tonight. Other than a small fire at the head table (Aunt Bella) and a sword fight between Samael and the best man (his brother Mordrad), the rest of the evening was pretty uneventful.

Even Cheryl, who’d been the only human in attendance, looked pleased as she steered my mother and Samael toward a waiting car. “I wasn’t too sure about tonight, but you pulled it off without a hitch,” she told me after the door had shut and she was just about to climb in next to the driver.

“Don’t kid yourself. We were in a roomful of bloodthirsty demons. The salmon was a definite hitch.”

“Maybe, but it went well, all things considered. Let’s hope tomorrow is the same.” She drew a deep breath as if saying her own silent prayer.
Attagirl, Cheryl.
“Speaking of which, I’ve got to have your mother at the salon by two. All the bridesmaids are meeting there to get ready as well.” A shudder ripped through her and I knew she was envisioning what three hours smack-dab in the middle of the crown princesses of Hell would be like. Forget the paraffin wax. Tomorrow’s special would surely be a bloodbath.

She seemed to shake away the thought. “Your grandfather flies in at two thirty. That was the earliest flight he could manage since he refuses to miss the celebratory breakfast after today’s tournament win.”

The win was a given. I wanted to point out that Gramps could also pop in and out anytime he wanted, but I had a feeling Cheryl had already thought of that.

“He insisted on flying in with his golf buddies.” She waved a hand. “You know how he is about golf. Anyhow, I’ll have my hands full, so can you pick him up and drop him at the Hyatt? I would send a car, but your mother wants the VIP treatment.”

“I’m on it.”

That is, if whoever was after me didn’t kill me in my sleep tonight. A definite possibility, too, since I was still flying solo sans my coveted demon-busting powder. I seriously doubted my newly acquired collection of Vera Bradley was going to ward off any evil spirits.

Cheryl must have noted my sudden worry because she tried for a smile despite her own obvious misgivings. “Keep your chin up,” she said as she climbed in next to the driver. At least you get to see your sweetie tomorrow night. Maybe he’ll even bring his pooch.”

Azazel.

The name echoed in my head as I watched the car pull away.

I glanced at the Datsun parked across the street. Smith sat behind the wheel, a slice of pizza in one hand, binoculars hanging around his neck. I gave him a small wave and he waved back.

A sliver of comfort stole through me. Cutter was out there somewhere, still keeping an eye on me even if it was through the Legion’s most inexperienced man.

I marched back inside, back to the kitchen where the dishes were being washed and put away, and pulled out my phone. I spent the next few minutes on the phone with Blythe going over the plan to detour Azazel. If I had to pick up Gramps from the airport, I’d need someone else to catch Azazel when he arrived at the Bell Tower.

“Sounds so James Bond-ey,” Blythe murmured, her voice unusually breathless.

I heard a muffled giggle, followed by a deep, guttural, “I’ve got a big surprise for ye.”

Ugh. Too much info.

“Blythe? Is someone there with you?”

“Of course not.” Another giggle. “I mean, um, yeah. But it’s just Agarth. We’re messing around. It’s nothing serious. So, um, why not just have Cutter intercept Azazel at the Bell Tower? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“If I wanted a knock-down, drag-out in the middle of my mom’s wedding, which I don’t. Can you do this for me?
Please…
”

“Okay, but when this is over you’re going to owe me big-time for all the favors.”

And I knew just how I was going to pay her back—with free planning and a discount on all wedding services.

That is, if she ever admitted that Agarth was more than just an FWB.

I spent the next thirty minutes boxing up the rented linens and dinnerware. I was making one last pass through the restaurant when I noticed that Landon Parks was still sitting in the small bar area near the front entrance, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Big day tomorrow,” I said, and he nodded. “Shouldn’t you call it a night?”

“Not just yet.” He eyed the bartender at the far end. “After that atrocious dinner, I need some sort of sustenance.”

“But he’s a demon,” I quickly pointed out.

“Perhaps.” His gaze shifted to the wall of windows just beyond the bartender. “But he isn’t.” The beat-up Datsun sat across the street. I watched Smith reach for another slice of pizza.

A growl vibrated in my ear and my attention shifted back to Landon. “He looks so innocent, doesn’t he?” His eyes gleamed as he licked his lips, and my stomach did a somersault because I knew what he had in mind.

He was the chief demon of slavery and oppression. Which meant he would more than likely tie Smith up and force him into a lifetime of servitude. That is, if he didn’t eat him first.

He downed the whiskey with one large gulp and slid off the bar stool. “Time to have some real fun.”

I had a gruesome vision of poor Smith wearing a leather bondage suit. “You can’t leave yet.” I dogged the judge toward the door. “We need to go over the vows for tomorrow.”

“Already done.”

“What about the reception?” I grabbed his arm and held tight.

He tried to shrug me loose. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t know where you’re supposed to sit.”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do. Let’s go back to the kitchen where I’ve got my iPad. You can take a look at the seating chart and I’ll show you—”

“
Let go.
” The deep, guttural voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

Cold horror washed through me and the air lodged in my chest. My gaze shot to Landon, but he looked as surprised as I felt.

Because the voice hadn’t come from him.

My mind raced. Aunt Bella?

Maybe. Hopefully.

My head snapped around. My gaze traveled through the dimly lit room. Other than the bartender, who seemed oblivious to what was happening, there was no one else there.

My grip on Landon tightened, and he tried to pull free. “Release me,” he growled.

“I can’t.”

“Nonsense. Just loosen your hand.”

“No, really. I can’t.” My fingers contracted of their own will, desperate to cling to something, to fight for survival against the panic punching through me.

Coldness slithered over my feet. I glanced down to see dozens of deadly reptiles circling my ankles. My calves. My knees.

Snakes. Honest-to-goodness
snakes
.

“What the hell?” Landon’s voice echoed and my head swiveled sideways in time to see he had his own troubles. The serpents surrounded him too, moving higher, winding tighter.

My ribs seemed to cave under the viselike pressure, and I fought for a breath. Then it felt as if someone yanked the floor out from under me and I started to fall.

My head slammed against the hardwood and bright specks of light exploded behind my eyes. I felt a quick nanosecond of hope. Smith was right outside. He would see what was happening and call Cutter and—

The speeding train of thought shattered as pain slashed through me. And then everything went black.