The afternoon passed in a blur as I thought about Rysten’s parting words: soon. That could mean a lot of things, and I was pretty sure our next encounter would not be alone. He mentioned that there were…others. Including the one I already met. The thought sent shivers running down my spine.

“Moira!” I called, and she poked her head around my office door. “My schedule is clear, yeah? I’m going to leave for the night. Feeling a little under the weather.” It wasn’t a complete lie. I really was feeling strange, just not of the sickly variety.

Moira narrowed her seafoam green eyes. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that guy from this morning, would it?” she asked.

Nosy banshee.

“Why would it have anything to do with him?” I asked, as good a non-answer as I could get. I didn’t like lying to her, but I was in no position to handle an interrogation right now.

“You’ve been acting weird since he left.”

Weird. That was one way to put it. I was freaked the fuck out. I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t want to bring it up to her. It was one thing for me to worry when Rysten, and probably Allistair, would show back up for devil knows what. It was an entirely different thing to be calming Moira in that process. She was possessive. She’d hunt them down if she thought they meant to do me harm.

No. Until I knew what they wanted, I wasn’t involving her.

I lifted the corners of my mouth in a tired smile and went to retrieve Bandit from his hidey-hole in the cat tower. He practically sprang at me, locking his arms around my neck like a sloth in a tree. “Bandit’s been feeling a bit antsy today. I thought getting him out of the house would help, but it’s not.” I shrugged and turned for the door, hoping that was enough to satisfy her. As far as non-lie-lies go, it was golden. Moira’s eyes flicked to him and softened, just a little. Inwardly, I snickered. She could call him a trash panda all she wanted, but I knew the truth. He’d grown on her.

“Get him a can of sardines. He’ll be fine,” she said indifferently. Bandit started chittering at the mention of his favorite little fish. Damned raccoon. Food was always the number one priority. Now he’d be yapping in my ear the whole way home.

I grabbed my purse off the desk and headed out. “I’ll see you at home. Don’t forget to lock up.” She shooed us out with a hard look and wave of her pen.

Outside, the cool October air hit me full force, my teeth chattering as my breath fogged white. Bandit curled tighter around me, swinging his tail around my neck like a scarf. Crossing my arms to keep warm, I clutched my purse tighter as I cut down the alleyway that led to the parking lot. The ominous Cimmerian skies were heavy with rain waiting to fall. I trudged on through the grey bleakness, jumping when a large rat scurried past me and into the sewer drain.

My breath came in hot, heavy bursts as I stopped. Paranoia was eating at the edge of my already frazzled mind. I took a hazard glance behind me, just to soothe my beating heart.

Click.

The wrong end of Glock 19 pressed against my forehead.

“Gimme your purse,” he said. My attacker couldn’t have been older than twenty. The hoodie he wore wasn’t inconspicuous in the slightest. Black and white skulls covered the damn thing like they were meant to inflict fear, but how could anyone be afraid when he wore his nose ring like a cow? I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped my lips.

“You laughin’? What you laughin’ at, bitch?” He waved his other hand around in some kind of gang symbol and it looked suspiciously like the sign for ‘off the hook’. I couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t ridiculous if my life depended on it. Clearly.

“Hey! I said why the fuck you laughin’?” He raised his voice, moving the gun like he was going to slam the butt of it into my head.

Bandit didn’t take kindly to most people, and he sure as hell didn’t tolerate wannabe thugs attacking me. In the time it took to cock his hand back, my raccoon flung at him, landing on his face with his claws out and teeth snapping.

I grabbed the wrist of his hand that was holding the gun. No way was I going to let him start firing that thing blindly. He screamed while Bandit bit down on his nose.

“Motherfucker!” he cried.

Yeah, kid, you’re a mother fucking idiot. I slammed my knee into his groin. As I stepped to the side, he fell forward, his hand losing its grip on the gun, dropping it to the ground.

“That’s enough,” I said to Bandit. Even hissing and spitting, he listened to me, detaching himself from the kid’s face. With considerable force, I brought my elbow down on the base of his skull. He let out a muffled cry and collapsed on the ground, unconscious.

I squatted down and picked up the gun. Hopefully, that taught the kid a lesson in trying to rob people, but just in case, I was confiscating the weapon. He didn’t need to be running around killing people in alleyways. If I was an unforgiving demon, he wouldn’t be leaving this encounter alive.

I reached over and turned his head to the side. The punk had some pretty gnarly scratches that would need stitches, and his entire nose was gone. I glanced over at Bandit. Next to him lay the boy’s chunk of nose, with the cow ring still in it.

Ouch. With one hand, I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed 911.

“Operator. What’s your emergency?” I rattled off the street location and left it at that. The cops would find him soon enough and take him to a hospital to get his nose reattached. I didn’t want to feel any guilt over his injuries. I mean, he was going to rob me. I seriously doubt he would have killed me, but you never know.

I sighed, letting go of the blame as I turned to Bandit. His teeth were bared, still hissing at the unconscious boy. He didn’t even notice me until I shuffled a foot or two closer, both hands held out, palms open.

“Come here, boy,” I murmured. I made little shh sounds until he calmed enough to run up my arm and perch himself on my shoulder. The pricks of his claws stung a bit, but I ignored it as I rose to my feet.

I gathered my purse and stored the gun in my waistband, ready to go home and see this day to an end. As I turned to leave the alleyway, I saw that Rysten had made good on his promise. With him was Allistair and another male demon that radiated immense power, even from several yards away.

Shit.

“Hey, there…” I said awkwardly, trying to figure out how to go for the gun without being obvious. Unlike the kid that attacked me, I was smart enough to know when I was overpowered.

They started walking towards me and I panicked, grabbing for the gun.

I held it up, aiming at the three of them, not realizing how much space they’d crossed while I was pulling it out. Only three feet away from the barrel, they surrounded me in a semi-circle.

“Don’t come any closer!” I said. My hands visibly shook, making the barrel wobble about unsteadily.

“We’re not here to hurt you, Ruby,” Rysten said. He held up his hands in a show of surrender, but I wasn’t a fool. Any demon worth their salt didn’t need their hands.

“Who are you and why the fuck are you following me?” I demanded, swinging the gun towards Allistair as he took a step closer. He looked much the same as yesterday, with his tailored suit and styled hair. But his eyes…he looked pissed from the moment I saw him. Great. I’m going to be incubus dinner.

“Ruby, it’s time to calm down,” Allistair said. His eyes glowed amber and a sudden ease spread through me. I lowered the head of the gun slowly, until it was pointed at his knee instead of between his eyes. “That’s right, just calm down. It’s all going to be alright.” The drowsiness intensified, and it was only Bandit’s hissing that brought back a modicum of clarity.

“Stop trying to persuade me, demon, or I will blow your fucking knee cap out,” I threatened, knowing full well he could probably kill me before that ever came to pass.

“Allistair, back up. You’re making her nervous,” the third one said. I turned my eyes on him, only to be struck by the similarities he and Rysten shared. His hair was the lightest shade of blonde I’d ever seen; so blonde it could pass for white. They had the same dark green eyes and light skin, but where Rysten had this hot-boy-next-door thing, this guy had an edge of beauty that was intense. His cheek bones were sharper. His teeth, whiter. His skin didn’t have a single imperfection, and the power that rolled off him was not something that wanted to be contained. Couldn’t be contained. That insight was all it took for the barrel of the gun to go from Allistair to the unknown guy in front of me. Panic surged at the swell of power that threatened to consume me, making the air hard to breathe. Bandit trembled against my shoulder. His fear consumed me, feeding into my own.

Without realizing it, I pulled the trigger, shooting him right between the eyes.

He didn’t even bat an eyelash as it popped right out of his head and clanged against the asphalt. The gun slipped from my fingers and I choked out the only words I could manage to process.

“Who are you?”

“The world knows me as Death, but you can call me Julian.”

Holy. Shit. Devil have me, because I think my brain just short-circuited.

“Is this the part where you kill me?” I blurted. I couldn’t stop the word vomit that came after. “Because if you do, please don’t hurt Bandit. He’s a good raccoon, really. My friend Moira says she doesn’t like him, but she really does, and she would take care of him and everything—”

“We’re not here to kill you, Ruby,” Rysten said.

“What?” I asked, looking between the three faces. My eyes landed on the one I’d shot. Julian.

“We’re here to protect you, Ruby, and right now, that means we need to get out of here,” he said.

“So you can kidnap me,” I stated bluntly. Allistair growled under his breath, making me jump back. Julian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Sirens blared in the distance.

“No, because you called the police to help the worthless human,” Julian said. I blinked, only then registering where he was going. “You don’t want to be found here with your raccoon that tore his nose off, his gun in your hands, and him unconscious,” he continued slowly, as though he was giving instructions to a child.

“Right,” I drawled. I picked up the gun, flicked the safety on, and tucked it in my waistband. Rysten bent down and retrieved the bullet, putting it in his pocket.

“You okay, love?” he asked. I glared up at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Cut it out, Rysten. We need to get her home,” Julian said. I turned my incredulity on him.

Take me home?

“I can take myself home just fine,” I said stiffly.

“No.”

No? Who the hell did he think he was?

I opened my mouth to argue and he stepped forward into my bubble of ill-conceived safety. Standing close to that cold persona, that raw power staring down at me, every word I had just dried up.

“You have two choices: I can either throw you over my shoulder and carry you to your home, or we can drive there. Your decision,” he said.

Was he joking? No. Definitely not joking.

“Drive,” I ground out. I think the ghost of a smirk crossed his lips as we left the alleyway.