front of him. The demon was right. He wouldn’t be able to uphold Apollyon’s demand by himself. And in light of Zarak’s death, which Apollyon wouldn’t take well—the Russian leader had been with them for over a century—it wasn’t the time to accrue less than expected.
Those damn Behns.
“Fine. Pick whoever you want from the pool.”
Kobal grinned, his lips curling up over pointed teeth. “I have the perfect candidate.”
“But remember.”
The demon froze.
“Anyone chosen will be your responsibility. If they screw up, you screw up. And your punishment will be ten-fold. Choose wisely.”
Chapter 10
Lucas left the security disk from the ME’s office with Andrew. The ebhed would review it, chronicle it in what was probably a large database of possible Behn sightings then file the disk away. Jeeves had the skin sample and would forward it to his scientist for further study.
Now Lucas headed toward Cade’s study to brief him on what happened and to discover what he and Sarid found in the van. Though it was doubtful anything useful would emerge from grand theft auto. Fingerprints, maybe. They could learn the Fallen’s human identity, but otherwise the whole ordeal seemed like a waste of time.
Elias’s prophecy was a widely thrown pass. Bad news though, no one knew what they were supposed to catch or where it might land.
The Sept’s objective had always been to kill Fallen. Most recently, seek and kill. Now the prophecy was thrown in to the mix and no one, especially Cade, knew what to do with it.
Elias had mentioned finding a key.
Yeah. Okay.
A needle and haystack didn’t even come close to rating that job. How the hell would they find a key, one small key—well, maybe it was small, could be as large as the Eiffel Tower and if it was, would definitely be easier to find—in the Creator’s huge world? Elias had been nice enough to mention the key wasn’t in Astoria at this time.
At this time? Lucas snorted. So did that mean it used to be in Astoria? Would it return one day soon? If so, was it because the Sept One would bring it here? Or someone else? Another Behn? A Woyr? Did the Woyrs even know about the prophecy?
There were three Trihune species.
Behnshmas, or Behns, were created by the Sonh and each member stationed at one of the seven different Septs around the world.
Woyrs came from the Fathyr. The four large Woyr packs had divided the world into quarters. Each group responsible for keeping its territory, not overlooked by Behns, free of Fallen.
Shaydes were born of the Holyspiryt and did not tread on Earth unless called upon by a Behn or Woyr. Lucas had seen one once. It was an experience he didn’t really want to repeat. Those mofo’s were as scary as the underworld.
His stomach suddenly swirled just as a weight dropped onto this chest. He rubbed his sternum, grimacing. The emotion was strong.
Emma was near.
He was in Cade’s wing now. A few feet from the boss’s study. The rhythmic swish of a paintbrush followed by a slightly too fast pounding heart and a sniffling nose reached his ears.
The study once held bookshelves, large overstuffed chairs, low lighting lamps, and a barely used wooden desk shoved to one side.
Now the desk was in the center of the room, along with a chair large enough for a Behn to sit comfortably behind it. Papers and books that looked old enough to be in a museum covered the surface.
On the far side, which received the best light from the wall to ceiling windows, contained various easels and several large washtubs. Two walls had been stripped of their bookcases and replaced with metal shelves, now filled with paint, canvases, and a bunch of other art store supplies.
Emma faced an easel, her hair held captive by a rubber band, half of the dark strands falling loose. Red, blue, and yellow paint was smeared on the back and sides of her jeans. He quickly averted his gaze. Cade would tear out the eyes of anyone looking at his bahshrett’s ass.
Lucas
Those damn Behns.
“Fine. Pick whoever you want from the pool.”
Kobal grinned, his lips curling up over pointed teeth. “I have the perfect candidate.”
“But remember.”
The demon froze.
“Anyone chosen will be your responsibility. If they screw up, you screw up. And your punishment will be ten-fold. Choose wisely.”
Chapter 10
Lucas left the security disk from the ME’s office with Andrew. The ebhed would review it, chronicle it in what was probably a large database of possible Behn sightings then file the disk away. Jeeves had the skin sample and would forward it to his scientist for further study.
Now Lucas headed toward Cade’s study to brief him on what happened and to discover what he and Sarid found in the van. Though it was doubtful anything useful would emerge from grand theft auto. Fingerprints, maybe. They could learn the Fallen’s human identity, but otherwise the whole ordeal seemed like a waste of time.
Elias’s prophecy was a widely thrown pass. Bad news though, no one knew what they were supposed to catch or where it might land.
The Sept’s objective had always been to kill Fallen. Most recently, seek and kill. Now the prophecy was thrown in to the mix and no one, especially Cade, knew what to do with it.
Elias had mentioned finding a key.
Yeah. Okay.
A needle and haystack didn’t even come close to rating that job. How the hell would they find a key, one small key—well, maybe it was small, could be as large as the Eiffel Tower and if it was, would definitely be easier to find—in the Creator’s huge world? Elias had been nice enough to mention the key wasn’t in Astoria at this time.
At this time? Lucas snorted. So did that mean it used to be in Astoria? Would it return one day soon? If so, was it because the Sept One would bring it here? Or someone else? Another Behn? A Woyr? Did the Woyrs even know about the prophecy?
There were three Trihune species.
Behnshmas, or Behns, were created by the Sonh and each member stationed at one of the seven different Septs around the world.
Woyrs came from the Fathyr. The four large Woyr packs had divided the world into quarters. Each group responsible for keeping its territory, not overlooked by Behns, free of Fallen.
Shaydes were born of the Holyspiryt and did not tread on Earth unless called upon by a Behn or Woyr. Lucas had seen one once. It was an experience he didn’t really want to repeat. Those mofo’s were as scary as the underworld.
His stomach suddenly swirled just as a weight dropped onto this chest. He rubbed his sternum, grimacing. The emotion was strong.
Emma was near.
He was in Cade’s wing now. A few feet from the boss’s study. The rhythmic swish of a paintbrush followed by a slightly too fast pounding heart and a sniffling nose reached his ears.
The study once held bookshelves, large overstuffed chairs, low lighting lamps, and a barely used wooden desk shoved to one side.
Now the desk was in the center of the room, along with a chair large enough for a Behn to sit comfortably behind it. Papers and books that looked old enough to be in a museum covered the surface.
On the far side, which received the best light from the wall to ceiling windows, contained various easels and several large washtubs. Two walls had been stripped of their bookcases and replaced with metal shelves, now filled with paint, canvases, and a bunch of other art store supplies.
Emma faced an easel, her hair held captive by a rubber band, half of the dark strands falling loose. Red, blue, and yellow paint was smeared on the back and sides of her jeans. He quickly averted his gaze. Cade would tear out the eyes of anyone looking at his bahshrett’s ass.
Lucas
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