He rose to his feet, as did Father O’Brien. “May the Lord be with you and may he open your eyes to the truth.”
Faith bit back the urge to tell him to piss off. She watched as they walked out the door unable to stifle the feeling that that wasn’t the last she would see of them. The thought made her uncomfortable. She dismissed their talk of evidence. She doubted they would have anything that could make a dent in her firm conviction that the supernatural world was a load of bullshit. There was no such thing as vampires or witches, only individuals who couldn’t deal with the fact that people could be more evil than any monster they could invent. As for God and the devil—more crap.
She rubbed her forehead. At least the meeting had taken her mind off the bomb in her brain. But something told her that her time was running out. If she wanted to solve this case, she’d better get a move on. She also wanted to talk to Ryan, warn him about what was going on. He’d been a great detective and given nearly twenty years to the force. He didn’t deserve to be under suspicion now, and she wanted to give him a heads-up.
And she reckoned she had a way to do both, warn Ryan and get a handle on her case. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and punched in a number.
“Jessica, it’s Detective Connolly. I think I’ve found your mystery woman.”
…
“Are you done yet?” Asmodai made no attempt to keep the impatience from his voice. Probably not wise considering whom he was dealing with, but Lucifer’s expression showed nothing but amusement.
“This is so good,” he murmured as he glanced up from where he was bent over the table, working on the talisman.
“It is?” Asmodai’s question came out as a snarl and Luc’s lips twitched. Great.
“Yeah. Asmodai, the big bad demon, Prince of Darkness, brought to his knees by an itty-bitty girl.”
“Tara is my daughter, and I’m not on my knees.”
“Maybe not yet, but I could put you there any time I like.”
“Piss off.” Unfortunately, though, it was true; he’d put himself under Luc’s power by asking for this favor. But his daughter was in danger. Raphael had been spotted, and rumor had it that there were Avenging Angels on the loose, and while they weren’t specifically after Tara, she could be harmed in the cross fire. He needed to get her what protection he could, regardless of the price. All the same, his fingers trembled with the need to rub the demon’s sigil wrapped around his upper arm—the mark of his debt, which would remain until that debt was paid. Hopefully, soon and not too painfully.
Finally, Luc straightened, the talisman dangling from one long finger—a black, heart-shaped crystal on a white-gold chain. Asmodai stepped forward to take it, and a shiver of magic ran through him as Luc laid the jewel on his palm. He closed his fist around it.
“So you think this will make a difference?” Luc asked. “That your daughter will forgive you in exchange for such a trivial thing.”
“Hardly trivial.”
“She’s half fae,” Luc continued. “They’re vindictive bastards.”
“She’s also half demon.”
“Yeah, right, and of course we’re known for our forgiving natures.” The tone was definitely sarcastic. “Isn’t that what got you into this? Trying to get your revenge on Christian Roth?”
Christian Roth was his daughter’s husband. But that was a recent occurrence. Twenty-three years ago, during the last demon war, he’d been head of The Order of the Shadow Accords, the organization set up over a thousand years ago to police the supernatural world and ensure the demons and fae didn’t destroy humanity with their perpetual wars.
At the end of the war, Roth had stripped Asmodai of his powers and banished him to the Abyss. Lillian, his wife, was pure fae and unable to follow. She’d been stranded on Earth alone and pregnant.
Asmodai had believed both she and their child had perished, and he had held Christian Roth responsible. As soon as he’d regained his powers, he’d gone after the vampire. Needing him to feel the same pain, he’d sent minions after the people Christian loved. One of those people had been Tara, though Asmodai hadn’t known then that she was his daughter. Tara had survived, but her best friend had been killed in her stead. It hadn’t been a good death and Tara, quite rightly, blamed him.
It wasn’t in his nature to feel remorse, but he wanted his daughter’s love and her safety. Hence this deal.
“You’ll be in touch when you want your…payment.”
“As it happens, I have a job for you right now.”
“You do?”
“Someone has approached me for a demon representative for their new committee.”
Asmodai cast him a look of disbelief. “I don’t do fucking committees. I don’t play well with others. You should know that.”
Luc smirked. “You will now, old friend. Actually, I’m doing you a favor. This should fit right in with your plans.”
“It should?” Why did he doubt that?