The twins veered to the side and stopped in front of a glass door that had been painted black. We were here. This was it. The small sign above the door said sir laughs-a-lot and showed a jolly knight. The Dukes had rented an underground comedy club to hold their summit. The irony of it made me despise them even more than I already did.
As Ginger reached for the door handle I battled a surge of terror. I couldn’t go in there. I took a step back, then another, my breath becoming shallower until I knew I was on the verge of a panic attack. I spun around, prepared to run, only to face a dapper, frowning gentleman in a fine gray suit. He had salt-and-pepper hair and a long, oval face. But his most compelling feature was the giant purple badge in the middle of his chest, like a pulsating, vile eggplant of pride. Rahab, the Duke of Pride.
I spun back around, trying to play it off like I’d not just been planning to run like heck. I stumbled forward a little in my attempt to walk with Mr. Evil Incarnate at my back. The other Neph were already inside. Kaidan stood holding the door open with an expressionless face, eyes averted downward.
“After you, Duke Rahab,” he said. I stepped out of the way and let Rahab pass me with a frigid breeze. Then my eyes met Kaidan’s and we stood there.
“Get in and close the damn door!” an Australian male voice hollered from inside. “You’re lettin’ in a draft.”
There was a tense second when I knew Kaidan thought I might run, and if I did, he would run with me. But I couldn’t do that to him. So I slipped inside and felt him enter the club behind me, closing the door.
I had to adjust my pupils in the dim entryway. The place was dingy and smelled like years of stale smoke and mildew hiding under drab old carpets, but it was warm. Walls were plastered with advertisements for comedians and shows, past and present. The thin hall was empty except for a host podium by the door. Everybody else had already gone in.
“Son of Pharzuph,” said a redheaded male Neph. He was short and lean, but had the body and stance of a fighter. His fiery red hair was buzzed so short it was barely fuzz. In his hand he wielded a metal-detecting wand.
Kaidan returned the greeting with a nod, saying, “Son of Mammon.” So this was the Duke of Greed’s son.
“Arms up, mate. You know the drill.” He spoke with a heavy Aussie accent. Kaidan lifted his arms and widened his feet. I got nervous when the wand passed his pockets, but it didn’t beep. It did beep when it got to his shoes, though.
“Take ’em off,” he told Kaidan, who sighed and bent down to untie his black boots. I wondered whether they had steel in them. I glanced up when I felt the Neph’s eyes on me. He brazenly stared me up and down before giving me a wide-mouthed smile.
“Who’re you?”
“Anna. Belial’s daughter.” I still felt stupid saying, “Daughter of Belial,” like a Beowulf character. The guy stared at my badge.
Kaidan stood up and cleared his throat, making the other Neph return his attention to the boots. He did a halfhearted scan of them before nodding that they were fine and turning his attention back to me.
“Name’s Flynn Frazer,” he said, stepping close.
I took a step outward and raised my arms to the side. He stood a little closer than necessary as he waved the wand over me. And, yeah, he totally patted me down, paying close attention to my hips and bottom, which made Kaidan cross his arms and scowl.
My heart began a fierce pounding as the wand neared my ankle, but it passed over without a sound, and he didn’t touch it. I let out a frayed breath when Flynn stood back up, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Still waitin’ on a few more. See ya down there.” He nodded toward a doorway at the end of the hall. Kaidan took another long drink from a second flask as we walked down the narrow black corridor. I wondered how many flasks he had packed away on himself tonight. I kind of wished right then that I had one myself. But I needed my wits about me.
At the end of the walkway I put my hand on the glass door’s handle and took a deep, calming breath. I felt Kaidan’s warm presence close behind me. Eight months of memories tumbled into my heart right then. Just eight short months ago I didn’t know who or what I was. I’d never been passionately kissed. If someone had told me then that I would soon be dying at the hands of demons posing as gentlemen, I would have laughed and questioned their sanity. How quickly life could change.
I pulled the door open and music bounded up the dark stairs. The Dukes listened to techno? That seemed so weird that I almost burst into an inappropriate moment of nervous laughter. But I caught myself and choked it back. Time to move. One foot in front of the other.