Luc reached him and, in one smooth motion, knocked him down with a solid blow to his jaw. He stepped over the prone body in pursuit of the other two.
“Luc!” Nadia’s shaky yell caught his attention. “Let them go.”
“No. They threatened you, Nadia. They will pay.”
“Please. I don’t want you to chase them. Someone could get hurt.”
“They threatened you!” His voice echoed off the brick, rivaling the thunder. “They must pay.”
The soft plea in her wide, troubled eyes tempered his fury to the smallest degree, but his desire for vengeance was overpowering. And when next the demon Belthas stood before him, Luc would discover the identities of his cohorts.
Her fingers tugged at his sleeve, and she attempted to uncurl his fist.
“Let them go. Please.”
“Fine,” he snapped, already knowing he’d grant her request but not happy in the least.
But there would be a reckoning.
If too much time passed between this incident and taking Belthas to task, those who served him would believe he’d gone soft. As the king of the unruly, Lucifer always had to be alert to rebellion. Squashing these unauthorized attacks on mortals was paramount, or he’d be dealing with insurrection and true hell on earth.
“Will you help me find the cat?” Nadia asked.
“What cat?”
“They were about to torture the poor thing. It’s why I demanded we stop.”
Luc sighed and dropped his chin to his chest.
“A cat, Nadia?”
“Please?” she begged.
As if he could deny her anything.
“What does this creature look like?”
As she described it, he plucked the image from her memory.
“Behind the dumpster. There.” He pointed, not having seen it but sensing its life force.
Nadia rushed over, but it took his strength to move the large green monstrosity enough for her to wedge behind it. She retrieved a cream-colored tabby, unbothered by the hissing.
“Hey there, sweet baby. I’ve got a nice warm place for you to sleep tonight.”
Luc snorted. “Not without a bath and flea collar.”
“No one uses flea collars anymore,” she said over her shoulder, not sparing him a glance as she marched toward the road. “Are you from the damned dark ages?”
It took all he had to curb his compulsion to reveal the truth—if only to enjoy her incredulous reaction.
“I’ve only had dogs,” he replied.
Hellhounds counted as dogs, right?
Cats were outside his experience because he preferred not to associate with them. They were contrary creatures, lacking discipline.
Not unlike himself.
