“I hate to defend the demon, Delaney, but I have to side with the lackey here,” Kellen offered in a dry response, pulling napkins from a holder on the table and wiping his pants.
Clyde’s tongue rolled on the inside of his cheek, his fists balled by his sides. “I’d refrain from using words like lackey when referring to me. I’m no one’s lackey. That’s a polite request, but I’ll back it up if I have to. You’re Delaney’s brother and for the most part, Delaney’s been pretty decent to me if I don’t grudge and hold the salt and the prism thing against her. I’m trying very hard to respect her relationship to you,” Clyde said, directing his pointed gaze at Kellen. A tic in his jaw pumped furiously as the air between the two men filled with the pungent scent of a point being made.
Kellen scowled at Clyde, his shoulders slinging back when he rose from the table. “And you’ll do what if I don’t? Set me on fire?”
Delaney was between them in a shot, backing up against the table to glare at Clyde, reaching behind her to hold off her brother. “How about we go all Neanderthal another time? I have a spirit world that needs me. The one I can’t seem to communicate with these days because everything’s all fucked up. Adding more chaos by throwing down will just piss me off. You don’t want to do that. I’m raw, boys. Fragile. Teetering even. All made worse by threats from Lucifer. Now sit—”
Kellen put a hand on her shoulder, the concern on his face clouding his eyes. “Threat? Lucifer made a direct threat?”
Delaney nodded. “Hoo, yeah. And we need to talk. So let’s go do that. Clyde? If the headless dude shows back up again, call me.”
She pulled Kellen through his living room and into the bedroom, sitting down on the edge of his bed. She held out her hand to him. “Sit next to me. We have trouble. Clyde brought me a message from Hell. He just doesn’t know the depth of it.”
Kellen’s eyes grew stormy and dark with disbelief and anger. “And you know he’s telling the truth how, D? He’s a demon, for Christ’s sake! According to you, they’re all liars. Oh, except Marcella. She just got a crappy deal, right?” he said with a sarcastic grunt.
Her eyes began to water at the mention of Marcella’s name. Fuck. “Leave her out of this. Please.”
Kellen threw his hands up like white flags. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Did you two have a fight?”
“No, I sent her away.”
“What?” The surprise on his face was evident, but there was more than just the shock of hearing she’d sent her friend packing. And that only confirmed her suspicions, which would leave her pleased under any other circumstances but the one Marcella was in—doomed for eternity. “What the hell happened?”
She toyed with the line of bracelets on her arm, the jingle of them soothing her. “Listen to what I have to tell you and you’ll understand.”
While she explained what Clyde had told her and her pseudo argument with Marcella, minus what she suspected was some kind of binding spell, she kept an eye on her demon, pacing up and down the wide expanse of Kellen’s living room.
“This has to go back to Vincent,” Kellen said with a sneer and clenched fists. “That son of a fucking bitch.”
She leaned her head on Kellen’s shoulder. Recalling that night brought nothing but heartache and pure terror. All because she’d defied Satan. Because she had, she’d dragged Kellen by proxy into something he shouldn’t have ever been involved in. “I guess so. You heard what the pitchfork lover said that night as well as I did. He said he’d see me in Hell and basically said he’d take anyone I loved with him, too, and if what Clyde says is true, I guess he meant it.”
“But it’s been almost fifteen years, Delaney. And how do we know this Clyde’s telling the truth? If all demons are liars, why isn’t he?”
“Look at him.” Delaney pointed a finger out in the direction of the living room.
“He’s kind of hard to take seriously. He’s got on a fuzzy, beat-to-shit bathrobe. A pink one. So what am I looking at?”
“Look at your cats.” Kellen’s cats, Vern and Shirley, swirled their tails around Clyde’s bare ankles while he stroked their backs. It wasn’t easy to admit, but that he liked animals, and they liked him back, was a huge plus on Clyde’s scorecard of pros.
“Yeah, and . . . ?”
“They don’t hate him, do they? They don’t hate Marcella either,” she said pointedly. “As a matter of fact, they don’t like a lot of strangers, but they sure are clinging to Clyde the demon.”