He withdrew his arm from around her shoulder and scooted his chair around so that he faced her. He hunched his shoulders, leaning his elbows on his knees, and stared into her face. “I’ve heard there’s a group that has a device that can keep the rift open. Hell, someone told me the machine could maybe even open a rift on its own. We wouldn’t have to wait another seventy-three years for more of us to get here; to take over more human bodies.” Keeping his voice low, he said, “I want in on that group.”
Sinead sat quietly, looking at him, and didn’t respond.
He couldn’t tell what was going on behind those eyes. “It’s no secret that demons are in the minority among preternaturals,” he went on. “We have fewer numbers than any other group. And compared to humans,” he shook his head for effect, “I’m tired of the status quo. I want to shake things up.”
She continued to stare at him for several moments before she took a breath and leaned back in her chair. “I might know someone. I’ll give him a call.”
Finn focused on keeping his heart rate steady. He couldn’t show the savage satisfaction he felt. “Who?” If he could get a name, he’d be that much closer to his goal. And independence.
She waggled a finger and laughed. “Nuh-uh. It doesn’t work that way, Mr. Impatient. I’ll make a call, and if he’s interested in letting you in, you can expect a text message.” She stood. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”
As she walked away, he muttered, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not gonna budge.”
Sinead returned with a pad and pen, which she put on the table in front of him. “Give me your cell phone number, and I’ll pass it on.”
He wrote down his number and handed the pad to her. “Thanks, Sinead. I appreciate this.”
She gave him a look of warning. “I’m not making any promises here. Maybe you’ll get a text, and maybe you won’t. If you do receive one, you’d better follow the instructions.”
Finn got to his feet and dug out his wallet. To make it worth her time, he handed her a couple of twenties along with the pen. “And if I don’t?”
She took the money and pen, clicking the end to retract the tip. “If you don’t want to die, you’ll do exactly what they tell you to.” With that warning she walked off with much less sway in her hips than she had earlier. He guessed she was through trying to entice him.
He settled his tab at the bar and left the club. Several minutes later, after making a few hard turns to discourage anyone who might be tailing him, he pulled his bike to the curb a couple of blocks over from his father’s house. He followed a man-made wash running like an alley behind a row of homes until he could climb over the tall privacy wall that separated Lucifer’s property from his neighbors, and knocked on the back door.
He was getting ready to knock again when the door swung open. His dad’s longtime girlfriend Betty stood there, neither hostile nor welcoming. Her short black curls glinted with blue from the overhead light, and her round dark eyes framed with sooty long lashes were still youthful and reminiscent of a famous cartoon that had been created based on her back in the early thirties. “Hello, Finn,” she said. She peered over his shoulder, a slight frown finally bringing some sort of life to her face. “Why are you sneaking around in our backyard?”
“I’m not.” He bit back a sigh of impatience. “I was just making sure I wasn’t being followed. Can I come in? I need to talk to my father.”
“Sure.” She stepped back to allow him entrance, then closed the door behind him. “Luc’s in the living room. Go on in.”
As Finn went into the living room, his father looked up from his computer tablet. “You have news?” Lucifer asked.
Finn shot him a look. For once he’d like to be treated like a blood relative, hell, like a son, instead of an employee. To get a Hi, son, how are you? instead of being asked for a status report. But this was the king of demons after all. “I do.”
Lucifer smiled and set the tablet on the side table. “Let’s hear it.”
Finn glanced toward the kitchen. “Uh, I thought Caine didn’t want anyone but the three of us and his wife to know—”