Endless meetings with politicians in D.C., then a stop at Angel headquarters, trying to placate them, even though the more I try to, the more I have a weird, sinking conviction that they’re pulling the strings.
No one but Devil is supposed to pull the strings.
But I trust Vale. I have to. He’s a Devil, after all. Once a Devil, always a Devil. Devil protects its own.
I’m aware how lucky I am to have Logan on my side, though. Even though sometimes he gets just a bit overprotective.
Over the years, he’s had a tendency to go nuts when he’s sensed threats to me, real or imagined. Mostly, I’m thankful for it. A guy in my position is always one switch blade away from losing it all.
Right now, the real exhaustion comes from trying to keep the Feds at bay. We have pull in this state. A lot of pull. But nothing at the national level. I’ve spent the past few days meeting one politician after another, renewing relationships with old friends, bribing new ones.
Things have been so busy, I haven’t even had time to get a guy to repair the fourth-floor cameras. There was some technical failure, Logan told me, and the cameras have been turned off. I wonder what my little pet has been up to.
The thought that she’s probably struggling, just a bit, from my prolonged absence, especially after that balcony incident, makes me feel oddly satisfied. Not that I actually want to cause her pain, well, not the emotional kind. But she seems to thrive on pain and fear. My absence is the only thing that seems to have any effect on her. To keep her in her place. To remind her who owns her.
And the truth is, if I were back at Devil Tower, I probably wouldn’t be able to stay away. My obsession is slowly becoming tinged with something deeper, something dangerous. Something I desperately need to quell.
Not only because Damien Wells doesn’t do feelings. But also, because I need to protect her. How the fuck am I supposed to protect her from Vale and the other sharks out there if I’m falling for her?
Plus, when I saw her studying me, I got the uncomfortable feeling that she was growing... a little curious.
In this line of business, curiosity gets you killed. I’m doing everything I can to keep her completely out of the loop. But if shestarts asking questions... sooner or later, she’s bound to find out something.
And if that happens, she’s as good as dead.
“Here you go, boss,” says Vincent, handing me a cup of coffee. “Careful, it’s hot.”
I snort and gulp it down, welcoming the burning sensation down my throat. Vincent is a sweet kid. He shouldn’t be here. Hell, he shouldn’t be anywhere in a five-mile radius of us. Too bad he’s ambitious.
I walk into the conference room where all five of us Devils are meeting, as we do most mornings. The others are already there, Vale typing fast on his phone, Everest hunched over a sugarless caramel macchiato, his go-to order.
Logan’s sitting on the far side of the table, his feet kicked up on another chair, a cup of black coffee in his hands. For once, he looks more tired than me. Dark circles under his eyes mar the usual slick handsomeness of his face.
“Rough night?” I tease, sitting down in front of him.
He shrugs and doesn’t answer, which feels even more out-of-character.
“Not in a joking mood?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
I know times are serious, but that doesn’t usually prevent Logan from cracking a joke or two.
“This isn’t the time for jokes,” says Vale, his brusque voice making me feel, as I often do, that he doesn’t quite belong. He just doesn’t get it. “Anyway,” says Everest, flipping open his laptop, “let’s talk about the situation.”
“What exactly do the Feds know?” asks Logan, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Too much,” mutters Vale.
“We still have a hold on the situation,” says Everest, “thanks to Damien. He’s been leaning on our contacts. We’ve built up a good wall. It would take some serious persistence for them to get anywhere close.”
“The Feds are nothing if not persistent,” growls Vale.
“I have a feeling they wouldn’t be so persistent if someone wasn’t feeding them information,” comments Logan bitterly.
Vale’s brow furrows furiously. “You’d better take that back. I’m sick and tired of your insinuations. I’m a Devil.”
“I was talking about the rat who continues to elude us, and our friends,” cuts in Logan quickly. “Angel.”
Vale relaxes at once. “I don’t see why Angel would feed anyone information.”
