Wicked Road to Hel (League of Guardians 1)

“The dude I was trying to impress last week? He owns it.” Francesca scowled.

“I find it hard to believe a portal to the underworld exists in a diner.”

Francesca shrugged. “Believe what you will, but the demon lord comes back week after week.”

“Any particular reason?” Ana shook her head as the two women slid into the night.

“Samael likes the poutine.”

Chapter 18

The Grease Pit lived up to its name. It was a hole in the wall and if you weren’t looking for it specifically, you’d never find it. Yet early evening found the place full. There were several booths to their right, a smattering of tables in the middle of the space, and a long counter running the length of the room.

Ana’s first impression was dull. Gray. There was no color to dress the dingy walls.

She spied an overly large man stuffing a shitload of syrup-soaked pancakes into his mouth. She grimaced. Ambience was at the low end of the priority list in this place. What kind of establishment served breakfast crap at dinnertime?

Ana followed Francesca inside. She wasn’t sure what she abhorred more, the sickly sweet smell of sugar from the pastry rack to her left or the heavy scent of greasy bacon.

She took a second, her gaze sweeping the entire area, but there were no otherworld creatures present. In fact, there was nothing whatsoever that indicated the place was anything more than a greasy spoon.

All the stools at the counter were occupied save for the last one on the left. Francesca leaned against it and Ana slid in beside her.

The necromancer was shivering. Light rain had soaked them both, though Ana welcomed the coolness of it against her skin. One of the perks of being vampire. The ability to regulate your body temp to whatever the hell was in play.

A young teenaged couple caught Ana’s eye and she watched them kiss and play footsies underneath the table as they waited for their food. She thought of Kaden. What did his future hold? A girlfriend? Date nights? A lover?

Heartache and pain?

“So why are you risking your life for these kids?”

Ana turned at Francesca’s soft question. “It’s what I do. What I was brought back for . . . the saving of children or whoever else is in trouble.”

“Brought back?” Francesca’s brows furled.

“It’s a long story,” Ana murmured.

“Kaden means a lot to you.” An astute observation.

Ana bit her lip. “He does.” She nodded. “At first he was just a boy I was asked to protect but . . .”

“But?” Francesca prodded.

She shrugged. “He’s special and he’s alone and he’s had a shitty go of it. If I ever had a son, I’d want him to be like Kaden.”

Like Declan. Ana’s heart constricted at the thought. Kaden reminded her of the man she loved . . . and of a child that would never be.

Declan owned her heart and since he was not vampire she would never know the joy of holding her own child. Vampires could not reproduce with anyone other than their own kind.

“What’s the deal with you and the sorcerer?”

Ana was getting annoyed. She hated questions. “I’m not looking for a heart-to-heart girlie talk. There is no deal. Declan is nothing more than a complication and I—”

“Holy crap. What the hell is that on your neck?”

Ana was thankful for the interruption and turned to the waitress behind the counter. She was young, most likely close to Francesca’s age. Bright pink lipstick was slapped onto overly ripe lips, and her breasts nearly fell from the too-small tank top she wore.

Francesca’s hand fell to Samael’s slave collar, her fingers running along the skin nervously. “It’s a tattoo.”