Demon's Vengeance The Complete - Jocelynn Drake Page 0,33

every little damned thing, and pounded on the door again.

We waited longer this time before the door was pulled open by a third goblin. Taller than his other companions, his large lower lip was split down the middle from where it had been cut and never properly sewn up. What bothered me was the faint light of intelligence that sparked in his eyes, unlike the other two.

“Appointment?” he said.

“Yes,” I said with a hearty sigh. My right arm shot out and wrapped around Serah’s shoulders before I jerked her against my side in a tight embrace, earning a surprised squeak from her. “We’re the Smiths. Gage and Serah Smith.”

The goblin’s scraggly eyebrows rose on his sloped forehead and he sniffed the air slightly. “You smell like cops.”

“Nope,” I quickly replied, upping the wattage of my smile in an effort to look even more harmless. “I’m a tattoo artist in Low Town and my wife is a postal clerk.” I felt Serah stiffen under my hand but I squeezed her arm through her coat and she flashed the goblin a somewhat manic smile.

“And him?” The goblin jerked his pointed chin toward the troll standing behind me.

“Enforcer for Jack and the Low Town Pack,” Bronx explained before I could come up with a viable excuse as to why a desperate human couple had brought along a large troll to a black-market baby dealer. “If you can help them, the pack gets a finder’s fee for pointing them in your direction.”

“You work for Reave?” the goblin demanded, still sounding more than a little skeptical.

Bronx grunted. “Till the dark elf was snatched by the Towers.”

The troll’s answer sounded convincing. Of course, Bronx had been a member of the underworld once and had worked for the mob boss Reave, but that had been a long time ago. . . . Well, sort of. He’d given it up until I’d fucked up his life and dragged him back in when he’d saved my life. Yeah, that’s what friends are for.

The goblin stepped back, opening the door wide enough for me to enter the farmhouse first, trailed by my companions. From the foyer, I could see the dining room on my right and the living room on the left, while a narrow staircase led to a dark second floor. The furniture in the living room was ragged, with the stuffing poking out through the rips in the stained fabric. There was a table and a trio of chairs set up in the dining room. A scattering of paper covered the table, indicating that it likely served as some type of office. The rooms I could see were lit by a collection of candles and old kerosene lamps, creating a thick nest of shadows and a low haze of smoke about the place.

“Wait,” the goblin ordered, pointing toward the chairs in the dining room.

I nodded, grabbing Serah’s hand and pulling her along with me while trying to maintain an appearance of nervous fear and hopefulness. It wasn’t hard. Serah just looked anxious, which worked for our lie. I couldn’t see Bronx as he continued to stand behind me, but I was confident in his ability to look intimidating. With the mass of a small mountain, the troll had “frightening” down to an art.

“A postal clerk?” Serah demanded in a harsh whisper as soon as we were alone.

“Sue me. I blanked. Be grateful I didn’t say swimsuit model or telemarketer.”

“Asshole,” she grumbled under her breath.

I ignored her comment and turned my head so that I could see Bronx from the corner of my eye. “How many are here?”

“More than three?” Bronx offered.

I was about to snap at him when Serah spoke. “Between two and three dozen on the low side. Goblin clans tend to be very large when they have the space and assurance of safety. This location would have likely been outside of Reave’s reach unless they had some kind of special arrangement with the dark elf. Either way, we’re massively outnumbered.”

I didn’t question how she knew about Reave. It was likely that she would have heard about the bastard while she worked as a cop. What surprised me was her knowledge of goblins. They weren’t your average criminal and were pretty good about avoiding the notice of the local law enforcement, even if their main business was illegal. In short, goblins wouldn’t have been required reading for surviving Low Town’s streets.

The TAPSS investigator looked up at me with wide, expectant eyes. “Is it true? Was Reave grabbed