Rage and Ruin (The Harbinger 2)

I wanted to go outside. To roam. To explore. To be out there with people. To watch and see, before...

Before I couldn’t see anymore.

I crossed my arms as indecisiveness filled me. I’d been out there enough times with Zayne that I was pretty confident I could find my way around without getting seriously lost, but considering my eyeballs, getting lost was a scary thing to think about. I’d have to rely on strangers to help me read street signs or my phone, if I used one of those map apps, and people were, well, not always helpful to those in need.

But I could walk at least a couple of blocks, if not a little more. I could do it.

My stomach dropped precariously the moment that thought finished. I started nibbling on my thumbnail. Just last night I’d told Zayne that I wanted to be independent, needed to be, and yet here I was, afraid to go out by myself.

Maybe I should check out that girl Peanut had been visiting. That seemed a more important and easier thing to do. But I needed to get ready first. Whipping around, I headed for the bathroom and took a ten-year-long shower. As I wrapped a towel around me, a text alert pinged from my phone. I shuffled back into the bedroom, where it was charging on the nightstand, and picked it up. Not recognizing the number, I opened the text.

It’s me, your friendly neighborhood Demon Prince. I’m about to call you.

My lips parted in surprise. Roth, the actual Crown Prince of Hell, had texted me.

Was there some kind of universal Hell and Heaven phone book? Because I doubted Zayne had given him my number.

Obviously, I didn’t have a problem with Roth, but tiny knots filled my stomach with uncertainty as I stared at the phone.

It suddenly rang in my hand, startling me. I answered with a cautious “Hello?”

“Zayne’s not there, right?” was Roth’s greeting.

My brows pinched as I moseyed back into the bathroom. “No, he’s not here. Are you trying to get ahold of him?”

“No.”

Then why had he asked about Zayne?

“You busy?” he asked.

“Uh...” I looked around as if I’d find my answer there while I clutched the two halves of the towel together. Were Stacey and Layla hanging out again, and Roth was once more bored and in need of company? “Not particularly. You?”

There was a deep, rasping chuckle. “About to be. So are you.”

“I am?”

“Yes. I’m coming to pick you up. We now have plans.”

“We do?” I blinked once and then twice at my fuzzy reflection in the bathroom mirror. “I just got out of the shower.”

“Well, you’re going to need to put some clothes on, because I doubt Layla will be thrilled if I pick you up and you’re naked as the day you were hatched out of a little Trueborn egg.”

I was so not hatched from an egg, and he knew that.

“Is...?” I trailed off, suddenly unable to say her name as I stared into the mirror. I squeezed my eyes shut tight.

Layla.

Layla.

Layla.

A flash of envy mixed with anger in my chest, and I hated that I felt that way. That I was being so dumb about her past with Zayne.

When I reopened my eyes, she hadn’t appeared like some new, updated and totally personalized version of Bloody Mary.

I wrinkled my nose at my reflection. There was something seriously wrong with me. I knew what it was. The green-eyed monster. Jealousy. And why was jealousy a green-eyed monster? Why did people say “green with envy”? What was wrong with the color green? Was it because some money was green? I really needed to google this, as—

“You still there?” Roth’s voice snagged me from my thoughts, thank God. “Or did you hang up on me? That wouldn’t be nice. My feelings would be hurt.”

“I’m still here. Is Layla with you?” I asked.

“No,” he answered. “She can’t be a part of this.”

I turned from the mirror, hand tightening around the phone. Peanut reappeared suddenly through the wall, pirouetting like a ballerina across the bedroom and through the bed.

“What makes you think I want to be a part of whatever this is?” I demanded.

“Because you owe me a favor, and it’s time I collect.”

* * *

When I’d thought about exploring the city, this wasn’t what I’d had in mind.

But here I was.

Leaning against a wall, I squinted from behind my dark sunglasses. While I waited for Roth, a steady stream of people passed me, each one seeming in a hurry to get wherever they were going. Since I had no idea what Roth was up to, I’d decided curbside pickup was the best.

A huge part of me was regretting it, because I’d been outside for only a handful of minutes, and I felt like I was melting.

Sweat dotted my brow while I stood in the shadow of Zayne’s building. Even though my tank top and jeans were thin and my heavy, still-wet hair was pulled up in a knot, I was about a minute from stripping off all my clothes.

It got hot back in the Potomac Highlands, but with the mountain air and open fields, there was always a cool breeze. Here there were only smoggy, hot and stinky drafts passing between the tall buildings.

Nervous energy buzzed through my veins as I shifted my gaze from the sidewalks to the congested street full of yellow cabs and black cars. The warm tingle along the back of my neck alerted me to the presence of demons, but none seemed close.

But I was about to get all up and personal with one.

For a favor.

A favor I owed the Crown Prince of Hell.

Crap.

I hadn’t exactly forgotten that Roth had said he’d help Zayne and I find Misha because he wanted a Trueborn to owe him a favor, but it hadn’t been at the forefront of my thoughts.

I had no idea what I could do for Roth that the demon prince couldn’t do for himself. He had all kinds of nifty abilities I was envious of, and whatever it was, I doubted Zayne would be happy to hear about it. I should text him, in case he got back before I did and found me MIA, but if I did, then Zayne would have questions. Questions I obviously couldn’t answer. Not only that, he’d probably intervene and stop whatever favor Roth needed from me, and admittedly, I was more than just a little curious.

Distraction and avoidance were the two best coping mechanisms out there. I didn’t care what therapists across the world claimed.

Plus, Zayne was busy doing top secret stuff, so, whatever.

I just hoped whatever Roth wanted didn’t involve anything too...evil.

Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I crossed my arms as a hot whirl of wind caught the hem of my long shirt, playing with the edges. The slim, lightweight iron daggers currently attached to my hips stayed hidden. Roth might be a cool demon 99 percent of the time, but I wasn’t stupid. Not that I needed the daggers when I had my grace, but I wouldn’t just whip out my grace willy-nilly and start a party with it.

I’d end a party with it.

The blur of vehicles slowed down as a sleek fancy-looking car stopped at the curb and the shivery heat along my neck and shoulders increased. One tinted window rolled down and I heard, “Hey, Angel Face, want a ride?”

My eyes rolled. I peeled myself away from the side of the building and inched forward, careful to not get flattened by the humans in a hurry. I started to bend down to peer into the window but the car door opened without either of us touching it.

Again. Nifty abilities.

“Get in.” Roth’s voice floated from the shadowy interior.

I hesitated. “How about ‘please’?”

A dark chuckle was my answer. “That word is not in my vocabulary.”

Groaning, I got in and was blasted with cold air. Roth was behind the wheel, dressed in all black and looking very much like anyone would imagine a demon prince would look.

One ring-adorned finger tapped the steering wheel. His rings were sliver and had some kind of markings on them, but I couldn’t make them out.

My gaze drifted over the interior of the car. Even with the tinted windows, I needed my sunglasses but the glare wasn’t as bad as usual. I could see a gold emblem on the steering wheel.

Was this a...Porsche? Good God, why were there so many buttons in a car? “Being a demon must pay well.”

“Being the Crown Prince does.” Roth grinned at me as he eased away from the curb.

“So, what’s Layla doing?”

“Currently marathoning Doctor Who with Cayman,” he answered. “And I want no part of that life.”

A tiny ball of melancholy formed in my chest. Marathoning movies and shows. I used to do that with friends.

I missed Jada.

“Sounds like a good time. What’s your favor?”

“Not into small talk, are you?” The Porsche came to a stop at the light. “Did you tell Zayne you were heading out with me?”

“No.” I laughed. “Doubt he’d be cool with whatever this is.”

“Why? You think he doesn’t trust me?”

I folded my arms and said nothing.

Roth chuckled. “He knows I’m a bad influence.”

“So, your favor is something that’s going to fall under you being a bad influence?”

“Oh, most definitely.” The car started moving again. Outside the windows, the buildings were beige blurs. “I need your help.”

“I figured that much.” I looked over at him.

A faint grin reappeared. “Remember Bambi?”

Immediately, I thought of the Hummer-size snake that had acted like an abandoned puppy in need of cuddling when she’d seen Roth. Familiars often resided as tattoos on the body of the demon that controlled them, but Bambi was now with that damn coven of witches that I hoped soon found themselves unexpectedly in the middle of a bonfire. I nodded. “The giant snake that’s with Faye, the witch.”

He inclined his head. “Bambi has been with me for a long time. Not that I have favorites, but she is...special to me.” Roth’s gaze was fixed on the road. “When Layla was hurt by her clan, I couldn’t fix her. She was so bad off and she was...” His jaw clenched. “She was dying, and that meant I would do anything to save her.”