“I’m not in a mood, I’m pissed because I’m soaked in coffee.”
“Are we still on that?”
Harper raised a hand. “I need to go change. First, who’s pulling Crow’s strings?”
Lou shrugged, seeming surprised by the question. “How would I know?”
“You’re the Devil. Don’t you keep a close watch on our kind?”
“I have a life, you know,” he replied, affronted. “Hell is filled with things to do. Besides, people aren’t very interesting to watch. All they really do is eat, sleep, and shit. But a baby with the power to decimate the universe – now that would be entertaining. And you really should call it Lucifer.” He pounded his fist on his chest. “It’s a good, strong name.”
Harper looked at Knox. “He really is serious about that, isn’t he?”
“Deadly,” Knox confirmed, surreal as it was.
“Evil kids can be real cute, you know,” said Lou. “Haven’t you seen Stephen King’s Pet Sematary? When that little boy goes after his mother with a scalpel… wow, totally cute. You can’t help but want to hug him.” He tilted his head. “I wonder why King deliberately spelled ‘Sematary’ wrong. I’ll Google it later.”
Harper shook her head in exasperation. The guy was wacked. “Off the topic of babies, you must know about the demons calling themselves the Four Horsemen. Well, three Horsemen now that Isla’s dead. Who are the others?”
Lou’s brows pulled together. “There are demons genuinely calling themselves the Four Horsemen? How uninventive. And why would they want the apocalypse to come calling?”
“They don’t,” she told him. “They want to see the US Primes fall.”
“Well, that’s not very ambitious.”
“So you have no idea who they are?”
“Nope.” And Lou clearly wasn’t concerned about it either.
Harper’s shoulders slumped. “What about Crow? Do you know where he is?”
“Like I said, I have a life. I’m not like the big G,” Lou added, pointing to the sky. “I’m not interested in keeping tabs on people.”
“You just like appearing at their side and startling the shit out of them, making them soak themselves in coffee,” said Harper dryly.
“Are we back to that again?”
“We never left it.”
Knox moved closer to Lou, arms folded. “I have a question for you. How could someone have got inside my prison and taken Crow?”
“They couldn’t have,” replied Lou. “But they could have extracted him by magickal means. It wouldn’t have been easy. Probably would have taken blood magick.”
Knox narrowed his eyes. “So the person responsible is either an incantor or a dark practitioner.” One that was powerful, since blood magick was no simple thing to perform.
Harper planted her hands on her hips. “The question is… were they hired by the Horsemen, or are they one of the Horsemen?”
The answer was… Knox had no idea.
She plucked at her wet shirt again, lip curled in distaste. “I really need to change out of this shirt.”
Lou stood upright. “Before you start riding my ass about that again I’m off. Got stuff to do. People to torment. Harper, don’t forget to jazz up my jacket. I’ll see you both at the big party.”
Knox frowned. “Who invited you?”
“I did,” said Lou. He pointed at Harper. “Be safe. We don’t want anything to stop Baby Lucifer’s conception.”
Harper looked at Knox. “If you don’t kill him, I will.”
But Lou was already gone; the echo of his laughter was in the air.
Knox crossed to her and sank his fingers into her hair. “There are times when I wonder if he might actually like you.” He kissed the pout right off her face. “You’re going to sow pink sequins on his jacket, aren’t you?”
She placed her hands on his chest. “Yep. But considering he’s an absolute nut job, it really wouldn’t surprise me if the weird bastard liked them.”
Knox twisted his mouth. “Yeah, it wouldn’t surprise me much either.”
Since she had to change her shirt, Harper was a little late walking into the coffeehouse. The door chimed as she pushed it open, and the girls somehow heard it over the whirr of machines, the chatter of customers, the dishes clattering, and the staff calling out orders. It had become a regular routine for them to meet there before heading into their new studio. She liked it.
As Harper crossed to the bistro table near the large window with Tanner in tow, Devon pointed to a steaming mug and said, “We ordered your usual caramel latte. I even drizzled chocolate all over the froth for you.”
“And that’s why I love you.” Harper really didn’t feel like joining that eternally long queue.
Tanner’s brow furrowed. “Hey, what about my cappuccino?”
Devon gave him a blank look. “What about it?”
Raini gestured to the mug near the free seat between her and Harper. “It’s right here. Before you ask, no, I will not move so you can sit next to Devon and torture her.”
“You’re no fun,” complained Tanner.
Fairly plonking herself on the padded seat, Harper sighed happily. She loved coffeehouses. Loved the scent of fresh-brewed coffee, warm caramel, and the pastries in the glass case beneath the cash register.