faith. Her father had been abusive to both her and her mother. One day, she’d had enough and she put a stop to it. Permanently.
He reached for a french fry, grinning inside at the cause of his unusual hunger. The second go-round with Eve had taken things between them to a whole nother level. He wondered if she knew that. If not, he planned to bring her up to speed, pronto. “There’s plenty of action here.”
“Not right now there isn’t.”
“You know something that’s got you fired up,” he said, sensing it through the connection between them. “Spill it.”
Setting the burger down, Rosa met his gaze. “If this is the start of Armageddon, I want to be in the thick of it”
Reed’s brows rose. “Is that what’s being said? That it’s the end of days?”
Marks gossiped madly. Some of what they made up was entertaining. Some of it was dangerous.
“It’s obvious. Satan is breeding hellhounds, Grimshaw was planning a revolt of some sort, and every Infernal within three hundred miles has a hard-on to kill Cain’s girl. What the—”
“No.” The denial was out before he could censor himself.
“No?” Rosa studied him. “Are you living in a different world than I am?”
Exhaling slowly, he worked to suppress his jealousy. To call his response “possessive” would be an understatement. Eve was no longer Cain’s. But for Reed to stake his claim now would only make things more difficult for her. Many of the other Marks resented her for the advantages they assumed she gained from Cain’s mentorship. If they learned that she’d moved on and with whom, those resentments might intensify, and right now she needed all the help she could get.
“I meant,” he began, “that what is going on now doesn’t necessarily signify that it’s the beginning of the end. There are signs that would warn us. For one, the Rapture has yet to happen.”
“Whatever.” She shrugged dismissively. “Just send me down there.”
Reed nodded. “All right.”
“Yes!” Her eyes lit with both triumph and bloodlust.
“But if I need you somewhere else, don’t give me a hard time.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed her burger. “By the way, Sarakiel is trying to get a hold of you.”
“I’ll touch bases with her when we’re done here.”
But he didn’t.
After he watched Rosa’s Prius pull out of the parking lot and head toward the freeway, he went to Charleston Estates. The gated community was the home of the Black Diamond Pack, which had recently suffered the loss of its Alpha, Charles Grimshaw.
It’s Beta—now Alpha—was Devon Chaney. If Chaney followed precedent, he would be eager to establish himself as stronger and more powerful than his predecessor. Reed was counting on that impetus to make his plan work.
A guard station stood at the entrance and the exit, and a tall stucco fence surrounded the perimeter. Affluence and privilege were two of the words that came to mind when one saw the exterior. But beyond the crescent moon emblem embedded in the circular cobblestone driveway, there was nothing to betray the fact that every single resident was a werewolf.
He walked up to the guard station with one hand in his pocket and the other twirling his sunglasses. He glanced up casually, a smile curving his mouth as the guard realized what and who he was.
“Call your new Alpha,” Reed said smoothly, “and tell him I want to chat.”
“Repent, Jezebel! Repent or you’ll roast in Hell!”
Eve fought the urge to roll down her window and sock Evil Santa in the mouth. Instead, she sat impatiently at the stoplight while the zealot stood at her window, strumming his guitar and screaming at her through the glass.
When he didn’t get a rise out of her, he moved to the driver’s side passenger window and yelled at Sydney. “Save yourself from lust of the flesh and the claws of this heathen woman! Save yourself, before you burn in the lake of fire!”
Montevista cleared his throat, drawing Eve’s gaze to where he sat in the front passenger seat. “Okay,” he said. “I’m liking your priest idea more and more.”
“Yep.” Eve hit the gas pedal the moment the light changed. Thankfully, when she’d called the church after dinner, Riesgo had been there, and he had agreed to see her right away. They were heading to Glover Stadium in Anaheim, where he was filling in as a coach for a Little League practice for one of his parishioners.
“Do you think Father Riesgo will help?” Sydney asked. “You’re not a member of his congregation.”
“I hope he’ll play along,