Every Last Breath (The Dark Elements 3)

“I think we might have different definitions of calm,” I said wryly.

“I’ve never been calmer in my life.” When I shot him a disbelieving look, his chest rose with a deep breath. “It was Grim, wasn’t it? Touchy, impatient bastard.”

I didn’t answer. Not really. “I have a feeling you can’t kill him.”

“I can try.” His voice was dead serious.

“What good would trying do? We have enough problems without adding to them, and you going after Grim would be a major headache we don’t need right now.”

Roth lowered his chin as he closed his eyes. “It is in the very fabric of my being to seek revenge against those who hurt my own.”

One could never forget what Roth was. I should be concerned or maybe even angry that he’d be willing to seek revenge, but there was a part of me that was secretly thrilled by the level of his protectiveness. Because the truth was, if the situation had been flipped, I’d want to murder whoever hurt him.

“I’ll let it go,” he continued, raising my arm to his mouth. He pressed a light kiss against the bruise, and my chest got all mushy. “For now.”

I groaned as he let go of my arm.

“Hey, that’s better than me barging into Hell right now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, when you put it that way, sure.”

He walked to the bed and sat down. “Grim said some other things,” I said, casting my gaze to the bruises. I tugged my sleeve down. “Things he was a hundred percent correct on.”

“Like how I’m going to break every finger on his hand?” He patted the bed.

“No,” I sighed as Bambi peeked out from under the bed. She rose gracefully, nudging Roth’s leg with her snout. “He pretty much called us out for not really doing anything about the Lilin.”

Bambi placed her head on Roth’s knee and he absently petted her. Immediately, I thought of what she had said about Zayne and where he had actually stroked her, and I had to tell myself not to walk over there and move Roth’s hand to the tip of her snout, because I figured that couldn’t be an inappropriate place on her body.

God, I needed to stop thinking about that.

“We’re hardly sitting idly by,” he said, smiling down at Bambi. “Finding the Lilin is not easy. It’s not like he’s aligning himself with anyone.”

“What about the club you mentioned?”

“Oh, the one I planned on investigating before you snuck off to Hell?”

“That’s the one,” I said sheepishly.

Roth patted his chest and without him having to say a word, Bambi melded to his skin, disappearing under the hem of his shirt. “We can still check that out, but, Layla, I know how Grim can get under your skin. Could we always do more to fight evil? Yes. Should we stop living our lives in the process? No. We’re doing what we can do—more than we have to do.”

I started to respond, but there was a knock on the door. Roth’s eyes narrowed once more. “Come in if you have the balls.”

My brows flew up, but then the door opened to reveal Cayman, and I sort of understood the greeting as the demon stepped into room.

The normal humor and arrogance was gone from his expression, and there was a sick pinch to his appearance that hadn’t been there when I’d seen him in the lobby. I knew immediately it had nothing to do with the tension between him and Roth, but Cayman’s gaze was trained on him.

“What?” Roth began to stand, apparently also sensing trouble.

“I’m sorry,” Cayman said, his shoulders stiff. “The witches are here. They’ve come for what I had to promise.”

twenty

I SQUEEZED MY eyes shut, swallowing a groan.

This was the last thing we needed to be dealing with right now, but the witches had saved my life. They were also responsible for my current state. I wasn’t sure if I should be upset with them for giving me something as powerful as the blood of a fallen angel. How could I be? God, it was gross just thinking about the fact that I’d consumed anyone’s blood, but they’d given me the closest thing to immortality, something I hadn’t really had the chance to fully wrap my head around yet.

Roth and I had no idea what the witches could want in exchange for their help the night Maddox had stabbed me, but by the look on Cayman’s face and the dejected way he walked down the hallway leading to the club, it was a cause for grave concern.

I already knew this was going to be bad.

Roth planted both hands on the door, swinging it open as he stalked into the main floor of the club. It was silent, a wholly different atmosphere from what I was accustomed to. None of the dazzling lights were on, and the space looked almost ordinary in the bright glare of the overhead ones. No dancers graced the horseshoe-shaped stage and the shadowy corners of the club were absent of demons and card games.

The witches sat at one of the high, round-top tables just beyond the stage. There were two of them: the older man who’d received us when we’d gone into the restaurant to meet their crone and learn more about the Lilin, and a younger woman who couldn’t have been much older than me. Both were dressed normally, which was such a stupid thing for me to be surprised about, because it wasn’t like most male witches ran around wearing a black warlock cloak or females a white, billowy dress. They shared similar characteristics—brown hair and eyes, small nose and mouths, and I wondered if they were related. Father and daughter.

The crone I remembered from our last meeting, the one who’d seemed to call the shots, wasn’t with them—but I wasn’t surprised, because I doubted that woman could travel much. She was so old that when I first met her, I’d expected her to fall over dead at any given moment and explode in a cloud of dust.

Witches were a very strange breed. They were human, mostly, but somewhere in their bloodline was demonic blood and that was where they got their abilities. But even though they had demonic ancestors, they didn’t claim the connection. Witches didn’t trust the demons and they didn’t trust the Wardens, either. To me, they were neither good nor evil, and typically they stayed far, far away from the drama.

The coven the two sitting before us belonged to worshipped Lilith, and I immediately wanted to launch into a lecture about what a horrible idea that was.

“What’s up?” Roth announced as he swaggered right up to their table, completely fearless while I had the common sense to linger a few steps back. We didn’t know what the witches were fully capable of.

The man eyed Roth warily before flipping his gaze to where I stood beside Cayman. “I see that you are well.”

“Thanks to you all,” I replied while Roth’s eyes narrowed. I forced myself to take a step forward, hoping to keep everyone cool. “I’m sorry, but your name?”

He raised his chin slightly. “I’m Paul.”

“Paul?” repeated Roth. “Funny, somehow I thought you’d be a Eugene or an Omar.”

I turned to Roth slowly.

Paul ignored the comment. “And this is Serifina.”

“That’s a pretty name,” I said, and the girl smiled at me. “I know what your coven gave me when I was hurt.” When Paul was silent on that, I had to ask my next question. “How did you have the blood of a fallen angel?”