Spencer eyed the ceiling. The antechamber appeared stable enough. “Let’s move some of the rocks. You can get a shot of Alan moving the last few, and then I’ll pretend to come through. The editors can make it look believable.”
“You’re a genius. This is why we’re best friends. I’ve got this. Back up.” Alan shifted into his sasquatch, his body sprouting dark brown fur, his size more than doubling as his beast took control. He went to town on the rubble, lifting a three-foot boulder with ease. Five minutes later, his superstrength had enabled him to remove half the pile, and he returned to his human form.
Rebecca filmed the shots the editors would need, and they high-tailed it back to the hotel. That was enough excitement for one day. Spencer couldn’t wait to get cleaned up and then stretch his wings beneath the moonlight.
After a hot shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and found his phone ringing on the nightstand, Mandy’s name lighting up the screen. He smiled and picked up the device. “Hey, sis. How’s it going?”
“I’m good. How are you?” He could hear the smile in her voice.
“Oh, you know. Just working. Same old, same old.”
She laughed. “Your job is never the same old anything. When will you be back?”
He glanced in the mirror on the dresser and tousled his damp hair. “We’re heading home tomorrow.”
“Perfect. You’re going out with me Wednesday night.”
“Oh?” He sank onto the edge of the bed. “Where to?”
“The Fang and Flask. We’re going speed dating.”
“The hell we are.” He was still licking his wounds from Isabella’s betrayal. He wasn’t about to open himself up to dating anytime soon…if ever again.
“Please? Kathy was supposed to go with me, but she bailed. I really want to do this, and all my other friends are in relationships. Pretty please? For your favorite little sister?”
“Mandy…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m happy to hang out with you, but…”
“Fine. I’ll go by myself. Hopefully there aren’t any creeps attending. I’d hate to get abducted on my way home.”
“You watch way too many crime shows.”
“So do you, and you know what could happen to a pretty, young woman on the streets of L.A. all alone. Especially at a place that caters to demons downstairs.”
He closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. “What time should I meet you?”
“Pick me up at seven.”
“See you then.” He mashed the End button and tossed the phone onto the nightstand. This was one adventure he was not looking forward to.
CHAPTER THREE
Lucifer was right. Not that Lilith stank. Aside from the whole drinking blood for survival thing, she was designed to be sheer perfection. Almost. Luce refused to give her wings when he took her in and made her irresistible to men, but otherwise, she could give Venus a run for her money in the looks and wiles department.
No, Lucifer was right about her becoming a miserable wretch.
She showered anyway—it had been a few days—and dressed in her favorite black catsuit. Esther still lay coiled beneath her heat lamp, and Lilith put a freeze-dried mouse in the terrarium before heading out the door. “Come, Percival.”
Her crow flew after her, circling above her head as she made her way through the village. She would never get used to The Underworld’s new aesthetic, but if Lucifer could find happiness, so could she. Figuring out where the elusive emotion was hiding might be a problem, but Azrael could help her with that.
Holding her head high, she walked like a woman on a mission, her long strides carrying her down the street at a fast clip. The “sky” resembled daytime, with puffy white clouds dotting the fabricated blue background, and demons milled about, taking a break from whatever debauchery they should have been up to.
A beefy fiend with short black horns and fiery red eyes turned the corner and sauntered toward her on the sidewalk, walking right down the middle as if he owned the slab of concrete beneath his feet. He looked at her and continued his trek, fully expecting her to step aside like a good girl and let him pass.
“I am so not in the mood for playing chicken.” She stopped and rested a hand on her hip.
The demon halted in front of her, holding out his hands in a what the fuck are you doing? gesture while simultaneously manspreading so she’d have to either step into the street or slither up the wall to move out of his way.
She didn’t, of course, and instead offered a polite, “Excuse me.”
