lately. She seemed to love to tease him, which he didn’t mind in the least. Someone who liked you well enough to tease you without malicious intent, well, there was promise of something more there. Something deeper.
Which he couldn’t give her, he reminded himself. She already had more of a hold on him than anyone else ever had, and it made him jittery. He didn’t like feeling jittery. If things went further between them, well, he had a lot of enemies. Someone could decide to use her to even a score.
With his gaze centered on her swaying ass, Finn asked his father, “Since when do we go check out anything at a crime scene? We don’t report to the council, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.” His father’s aggravation came over the line with clarity. “But the closer the next rift gets, the more volatile things are between humans and prets. And since most humans are still ignorant of demons’ true existence, I’d like to keep it that way. It’s better for them. It’s definitely better for us.”
“Right.” Finn watched Keira until she turned a corner and went out of sight. He’d figure her out one day. He focused his full attention back on the phone call. “It won’t do for humans to start thinking that maybe their holy books are actually true.”
Lucifer heaved a sigh. “Do you remember what happened when they became aware for the first time that vampires and werewolves were real? And living next door? Fathers set sons on fire. Sons staked fathers through the heart. Special orders of silver bullets went through the roof.” He paused then said quietly, “What do you think will happen when they realize that demons who tempt them to wickedness, who thwart God’s will at every turn, as they believe, are real?”
The reaction wouldn’t be pretty. “And in order to downplay that, you stuck with the name Lucifer Demonicus?” Finn couldn’t wait for his father to wiggle out of that one.
Another long-suffering sigh. “Up to this point people have thought it was my shtick. A gimmick. Besides, how many dealings do I have with humans? Very few. A miniscule amount, really, and usually by accident.”
He was right. Most of the companies Lucifer controlled that had anything to do with humans were set up very carefully to keep his name off the record. Ninety-nine percent of humans had no idea that Lucifer existed, let alone that he owned the company that built the mall they shopped at, or held major shares in the company that financed their home mortgage.
As long as those companies operated legitimately, and Lucifer was adamant that they did, his name was never brought up. He’d grown quite wealthy over the millennia directing things from behind the scenes, and Finn knew he aimed to keep it that way. Those who knew him regarded him with respect. Those who didn’t know him, had heard of him and held him in awe. And fear.
Which was the way Lucifer preferred it.
“Where’s the crime scene?” Finn asked. After his father gave the address, he ended the call. Finn slipped his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and started up his bike. The throaty roar of the bike’s engine and the raw, powerful vibration beneath his body was the reason he had a bike and not a car. It somehow made him feel invincible and unrestricted.
After only a few minutes he pulled his motorcycle up to the curb in front of a vacant dirt lot on North Scottsdale Road as one of the human liaisons, Piper Peterson, got out of her car. She was in her usual attire, a dark gray pant suit with a no-nonsense button-down white blouse. Black boots with clunky heels completed the professional outfit. He didn’t know her well, but every time he saw her he thought she needed to loosen up a bit. She ducked beneath the yellow tape that cordoned off the scene and began talking to a uniformed officer who stood just inside the perimeter.
Finn approached the area and saw the demon, shoulders slouched, sitting off to one side on the tailgate of a battered pickup truck. The truck had a bright orange sticker on the driver’s-side window, signaling that it was an abandoned vehicle and was due to be towed. The human was in the back of an ambulance, blood on his face and hands, and a perpetual wince on his battered face.
As Finn started to stoop to go under the police tape, another uniformed officer