get me to turn around. I have business to attend to and until it’s done, everything else takes a backseat.”
She looked prepared to argue, then her gaze met his and she knew it was pointless. “If you won’t listen to me, will you listen to Neil?”
“Who is Neil?”
“The vamp who staked himself.”
He recalled the events of the night before. Servo vestri ex ruina.
“Save myself from ruin?” he scoffed. “I’m getting a tan; Neil’s dead. He should have taken his own advice.”
“Save yourself from destruction, you idiot. And trust me, if Destruction gets a hold of you, you’ll be dead, too.”
Alec tossed his arm over the back of her headrest and pushed his shades up with the other hand. He stared at her with cold eyes. “Want to rephrase that?”
She pouted. “Sorry.”
“Start from the top.”
Giselle groaned and collapsed back into her seat. “Can we talk about this in Anaheim?”
Knowing they would attract the California Highway Patrol if he stayed on the shoulder too long, Alec faced forward and eased the car back into traffic. He pulled off the freeway at the next exit and into the parking lot of a gas station/convenience store. From the sudden gleam in Giselle’s eyes, he knew she thought their stop was a good sign, which just showed how different the reasoning was between Infernals and Marks. Alec knew who ran the show in his world. He had been given an order by God. Ignoring it was not an option. Demons, on the other hand, were all egomaniacs. None of them wanted to admit that Sammael ruled the roost in Hell. They all preferred to delude themselves with the thought that Sammael’s commands were optional and they followed them because it was fun.
“Okay.” He slid the manual transmission into first gear, pulled up the emergency brake, and turned off the engine. “What is Destruction?”
Giselle’s mouth took on a mulish cast. Her arms crossed.
Alec opened the driver’s side door and unfolded from the seat. Rounding the trunk, he reached into the passenger side and plucked her out. She hadn’t worn a seat belt—against California law—and he hadn’t cared enough about her well-being to enforce it.
He returned to his side of the car and slid behind the wheel. “See ya.”
“You are not leaving me here!” she protested, her lips white. “You need my blood.”
“I also need my concentration, and being pissed off at you affects that.” He reached for the ignition.
“Destruction is Sammael’s pet.”
Pausing, Alec glanced over at where she stood. “His pet?”
“A hellhound, but unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. It’s a hybrid of demon and Cerberus, nephilim and Mark.”
His jaw tightened.
Giselle’s shoulders slumped and she looked even more gaunt, which he hadn’t thought possible. “Sammael has been working on a new breed for centuries. None of them were viable; they all died.”
“Except for Destruction.”
“Right.” She pulled the door open and dropped wearily into the seat.
“Was it the Mark blood that made the difference?”
“Yeah. Mark blood regenerates; it held all the parts together.”
Holy shit. They were using Marks to create new demons. “What does Charles have to do with this?”
“Charles was the key. He’s the Hound Whisperer. Sammael was able to keep the mutt alive, but he couldn’t train it.”
“Use a canine to train a canine.”
Charles was one of the most powerful Alphas in the world. He ruled his pack with an iron fist. He was also wily enough to stay under the radar, which enabled him to expand his territory with only minor interference from Marks. He might have continued to grow in power, if he hadn’t sought revenge for the death of his son by killing Eve in the Qualcomm Stadium bathroom. And now this.
“What does this have to do with you?” he asked.
“Once Sammael saw how successful Charles was in training the beast and how destructive it was, he wanted more of them. The hound is powerful and ravenous.” Giselle’s eyes turned fever-bright and she began to pant, her body thrumming with excitement. “If there were enough of them, they would wipe you all out. Every single Mark and angel. Every archangel. Even God. They’re unstoppable.”
Alec growled low, disgusted by her joy. “Answer the fucking question. What does this have to do with you?”
The glazed look of pleasure faded from her expression. “Every Infernal from the Oregon border down to Seaside, California, was tasked with feeding the growing pups. They take decades to mature, and they eat. And eat. And eat.” She growled. “Why do you think I look like this? You try getting