“Yes,” I said. “Exactly.”
She muttered, “Uh huh,” and turned her attention back to the computer.
I stared out the window for a while as we rolled through L.A. It was light out and seemed to be early morning, but I’d lost all sense of time. After a while, I murmured, “What if we’re wrong, and they stayed on the east coast? We just assumed they’d come back to L.A., but we don’t really know that.”
“Cain is definitely in his compound,” Desiree said. “One of my people spotted him early this morning. Word on the street is, he was mega-pissed about the way Elias turned against him, and he’s a real vindictive fucker. I’m sure he’s going to want a piece of the torturing action, which means they’re definitely bringing him back here.”
“Okay. I mean, that’s terrible, but at least we’re in the right place.”
She squinted at me and asked, “So, do you actually like your mate now? Because you spent the last century dodging his ass, but all of a sudden you’re concerned about his well-being.”
“Yes. I actually like my mate now.”
Desiree looked impressed. “Well, damn. You must have gotten some good dick on that island to make a turn-around like that in twenty-four hours.” I couldn’t help but grin a little.
When we reached my house, Carter muttered, “Whose car is that?” A fully restored black 1970 Chevelle was parked next to my Barracuda.
I’d actually done some work on that car, so I told him, “That belongs to one of Griffin’s friends.”
Carter glanced at the house and said, “There are two vampires inside. Which reminds me, I forgot to restore your wards after I tore them apart.”
A moment later, Griffin’s friend Tinder flung open the front door, flashed me a smile, and asked, “Dude, where have you been? Griffin called out the cavalry thinking something bad happened to you. But here you are, rolling up in a limo with a beautiful woman and some guy who feels like the prince of darkness—which is totally badass, by the way.”
Desiree hoisted a big handbag onto her shoulder and said, “I like this guy,” as she preceded me up the stairs.
I asked, “When did you talk to Griffin?”
“Last night,” Tinder said, as he pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “He had a premonition of sorts and thought you might be in trouble, so he tried calling you. Your phone went right to voicemail and you didn’t answer the land line, so he asked August and me to check on you. When we got here, we discovered your wards were all fucked up, and the place gave off this weird energy. The whole thing felt like a supernatural crime scene, so we called Griffin and Ari back, and they hopped on the first available flight.”
“Really? They’re on their way back from France?” When Tinder nodded, I murmured, “Thank god.”
As we all went into the house, he asked, “What’s going on?”
Meanwhile, Desiree stuck her head in the pastel, floral living room and muttered, “Christ almighty. It looks like a whole pack of old white ladies threw up in here.”
“Let’s go back to the den,” I said, “and I’ll explain everything. I’m replying to Tinder, by the way, not justifying my home decor.”
She turned to the vampire and raised a brow. “Why are you named after a dating app?”
He grinned at her. “I was named way before the app existed. My real name’s Tyler, but my brother gave me the nickname when we were kids, because it was so easy to ignite my temper.”
“Okay, that’s good,” she said, as she started down the hallway. “I had some concerns for a minute there, but you’re alright.”
We found Tinder’s husband in the kitchen, perusing the bottles of wine on the table. “August and Tinder, meet Desiree and Carter,” I said. “She’s a witch and he’s a demon, in case you were wondering. Carter, these are the two vampire-warlock hybrids I mentioned.”
“Fascinating,” August said, as he stepped forward and shook Carter’s hand. “I’ve never met a demon before.”
Desiree glared at him and asked, “What am I, chopped liver?”
“Apologies,” August said, laying on the charm as he took her hand. He kissed the back of it, then said, “I was momentarily distracted by your unique counterpart, but let me make it up to you. Would you like a glass of Mateo’s strikingly mediocre wine?”
“I guess I forgive you, mostly because you’re fine. You look and sound like that English dude who plays Lucifer on TV. And yes, I would like some wine. I’ll take the rosé, and I’ll be in there. It seems to be the only room in this place that wasn’t decorated by a geriatric sister-wife.” She went into the den with Carter while August unscrewed the lid on the rosé.
While he poured the wine, I explained the situation to August and his husband as concisely as I could. When I finished, Tinder said, “We’ve been hearing some pretty gruesome rumors about a pair of demons over the last couple of months, everything from enslaving humans to killing vampires for sport. We haven’t found any actual witnesses though, so it’s tough to know how much to believe.”