Ding. Ding. Ding. Give the man a prize. He’d worked out exactly how fucked he was.
Now we just had to wait and see what he chose. Give Beelzebub up.
Or continue to lie through his pointed teeth.
Chapter
Seventeen
Roxy
* * *
Dinner had been long and exhausting, but now I knew for sure that Drake, the idiot, had Lucifer’s number one most wanted squirreled away somewhere in this creepy freaking house. Either he wised up and handed Beelzebub over, or we would tear this place apart until we found him.
I glanced over at Lothar again. He stood just inside the bathroom, holding Beelzebub’s shirt again. His feet were bare and on the stone floor, and he was trying to tap into the house’s vibrations and, hopefully, pinpoint where B was hiding. If we were going to take the lord of Hell by force, it would be handy to know where possible danger lurked, but more importantly, where our target was. Distance could make it more difficult, especially if someone was blocking him, but we were within the same walls, I was sure of it, and Lothar said if he was close, he might be able to break through whatever was surrounding B and pinpoint him. I really freaking hoped he was right.
Lothar’s eyes were closed, his head tipped back, the same way I’d seen him standing in the forest when we were in Limbo. His throat, thick and corded, worked when he swallowed, and I did the same, my mouth suddenly going dry. His jaw was square, strong under his beard. I bit my lip. Yeah, I wanted to climb him like a tree and sink my teeth into him. I wanted to lick him, kiss him everywhere, wrap myself around him and cling to him like a freaking limpet and never let go…
Stop.
I dragged in a deep breath, pulling myself back from the edge, or at least tried to.
Lothar finally lowered his chin and opened his glowing, golden eyes. They looked distant, as if he wasn’t here in this room with me but somewhere else. Until he blinked.
As soon as his focus was back, that gaze burned into me. My belly swirled. “Anything?”
He lifted a hand to the doorframe, and his bicep threatened the seams of his shirt. “Think I’ve found him. Unless Drake’s playing some kind of game.”
Shit. “Are you locked on to him?”
“Yeah.”
I paced to the window and back. We needed a game plan, but our options were limited. “We have two choices: hunt him down in this house, whatever it takes, and drag him back to Hell…or give Drake some time, a chance to do the right thing.”
“Drake betrayed Lucifer by hiding that fucker here, why give him an out?” Lothar screwed up his nose, then pressed it to his sleeve.
“I can’t see Drake risking his alliance with Lucifer easily. Maybe B has something over him? Or maybe he’s just made a really stupid mistake. B could have convinced him he’s not trying to overthrow Lucifer and Drake believed his friend?”
“Or maybe he’s a traitorous fuck as well?”
He crossed his arms, and I was momentarily distracted by their bulging magnificence. He quirked a brow, waiting for me to say something, and I shook off my ever-growing lust. “Yes, you could be right, but all I know is, as soon as we take the choice from Drake, we’re all but signing his death warrant. I’ve killed, many times, but in cases like this, I don’t like to kill without just cause. At least if Drake hands over B himself, he could survive this.” It would also make our task a hell of a lot easier, but more importantly, end it.
Lothar grunted, then scowled and sniffed the shirt again. His scowl deepened, and he literally tore it off and tossed it aside with obvious disgust.
I winced. “Sorry, is my stench all over it?”
Lothar’s chin jerked back, his brows lowering. “No, it’s not you.” He shook his head. “Honestly, I think I’m starting to get used to your scent…you smell, I don’t know, different now.” He kicked the shirt he’d shredded into the corner. “It’s Grimmel, the fucking weirdo kept touching us whenever he served our meals.” Lothar seemed to be fighting his instincts again. He bared his teeth and his fangs elongated a moment before his eyes flashed red. “Fuck, I can smell you all over me?—”
“Sorry—”
“No, I told you, that’s not the problem. I want you all over me. I…fuck, I like it. A lot. What I don’t like is Grimmel’s scent on me as well, near yours. It’s messing with the beast for some reason.” He reached over and turned on the shower.
Holy shit. His back and shoulders rolled like waves. “Lothar? Are you okay?”
His chest vibrated, I could see it moving as a rumbling growl reverberated from him like rolling thunder. “If I don’t get that fucker off me now, I might have to kill him.”
I realized he was stone-cold serious when he quickly stripped off the rest of his clothes and, eyes still glowing red, got in the shower and started scrubbing the hell out of his skin and hair. It was as if he’d forgotten I was even there, so focused on washing Grimmel’s scent off his skin.
