CHAPTER1
Lore
The silence pushesin on my ears when I cut off the engine of my bike. Considering the number of other motorcycles already surrounding the club, it’s clear I’m the last one to arrive, not that I give a damn.
My boots track soundlessly across the street as I head to the brick building that’s acted as the Obsidian Angels’ clubhouse for nearly a century. I like going unnoticed. Harlow says it’s because I can’t be bothered with people and I don’t have the patience for civility. That may be true, but I also like being underestimated.
In a world where most creatures wear their armor and weapons for everyone to see, I look weak in comparison…until my skin shifts, and they find out what’s truly under this soft flesh.
Every head turns in my direction when I pull the door open. It makes me uncomfortable, but I don’t let them see it. Instead, I cast my yellow gaze over the crowd, pausing on the ones who dare to hold my stare. I may like to go unnoticed, but I never back down from a challenge, and suddenly, I feel like I’m being measured.
“Lore,” Salvador intones from the back of the room. Anyone who was unlucky enough to stumble in uninvited would think they wandered into a bar, and while there is a bar, this place is so much more.
With my chin lifted high and my deep plum braid trailing down the back of my leathers, I tread up the aisle the soldiers create as they part so I can answer to a man who’s like an uncle to me.
I don’t dare call him Salvador here, not in front of all these members. Here, he’s Reaper. It’s a road title that’s been rightfully earned. “What’s going on?” I ask when I see the president’s empty chair.
“The boss hasn’t returned.” Salvador lowers his chin a little bit, almost defensively. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask where he should have returned from, since I didn’t know he was going away, but it’s not as if he shares everything with me. Secrets are like currency in our world. Just like Salvador is one of the few people who know thatthe boss, Harlow, is my father.
I feel the skin along my back twitch with the need to unfurl my wings, and I fight the urge to harden my skin, balling my hands into fists at my sides. “How long has he been gone?” My voice is gravelly, like whispers over stone.
“Six days.”
My foot slides back when my rigid stance falters. It’s the only outward sign that Salvador’s words surprised me. One thing is true of all gargoyles—the longer we are away from our home, our power base, the weaker we grow. Six days is far too long for one as ancient as my father.
“Why wasn’t I notified sooner?” As an enforcer for the Obsidian Angels, I should have been made aware of this, and as his daughter, I should have known first.
“He asked for time,” Salvador replies cryptically.
I take a half step forward. He’s holding something back. “Why are you telling me this here now?” In front of the entire club.
“We need to find him.” Salvador hooks his thumb in the front pocket of his dark jeans, but his casual stance feels forced.No shit, Sherlock.I don’t bother hiding the aggravation on my face. “And we need a leader.”
“Fuck that. He’ll be back.” I glare at Salvador, wondering where the hell his loyalty is. I’m not going to be part of selecting a leader, even an interim one. I don’t give a shit if it’s part of my duties as an enforcer. I will find my dad though.
“Lore,” Reaper warns, and it was the wrong fucking move.
My wings snap out of my back, and my vision goes gray as my skin hardens to stone. The only items that remain on my body are my blessed blades strapped across the small of my back—a divine gift that defies explanation and the laws of transition.
I don’t reach for them now, but I do take a step toward the man my father trusted without fail.
“You must take his place,” Salvador insists, holding his ground, even when I get close enough to slit his throat with the claw on the tip of my wing. “At least until we find him.”
Whispers roll out behind me like a babbling brook. Very few of them have ever seen my true form. I’m displeased that they have now, but some things aren’t as important as they would have seemed only minutes ago.
“Lorelei, you’re his heir and who he would have chosen to replace him,” Reaper argues as more murmurings about my lineage explode behind me.
“He wouldn’t have. He knew I would never want this,” I spit out.
“You know better than that, Lorelei,” Salvador chastises, and I notice the slump in his wide shoulders and the way the demon’s ochre skin seems to have more of an orange hue than usual. He doesn’t look good.
I do know better than that. My dad would do what he thought was right, what was best for everyone, no matter who disagreed with him.Fuck.
“You need to get someone else until he gets back. I’m going to find him,” I argue.
“I’ve already informed the Syndicate that you’ll be taking his place until…we have another solution.”
I react in a flash, closing the distance between my father’s best friend and me. My blade is poised at Salvador’s throat, and my wings curl around us so no one can interfere. “You did what?” I snarl in his face.
