Outlaw (Wolves of Royal Paynes #4) - Kiki Burrelli Page 0,84

are always a special kind of crazy."

I could see how Alejandro had come to that conclusion. With sandy blond hair long enough to fall into his eyes and a tan, fit physique, he certainly looked like a surfer. The man looked up like he sensed the camera's lens on him and smiled.

"Panic room," Knox grunted.

Before any of us could comply, an earth-shaking explosion rocked the back of the hotel, coming from the direction Knox wanted us to head.

Dust sprinkled overhead as the twins shifted and herded the pack into a group—Alejandro included—that the alphas circled around. We remained that way long enough for the guys to pull up the other video feeds.

Faust grunted. "We need to evacuate. The back of the hotel is on fire."

On cue, smoke drifted up the hallway.

"Who is it?" Jazz had to raise his voice to be heard over the screaming babies. He bounced on the balls of his feet, patting Angus's bottom.

If Knox knew, he would've answered his mate, but the man outside was completely unfamiliar. The fire out back was a pretty big clue that he wasn't here to surf, though.

"Assume demon," he growled.

"Not Claus?" Storri asked hopefully.

"Not Claus," Faust rumbled in reply.

With a fire in the back and a demon out front, we had nowhere to go. Running upstairs would just trap us further if the fire spread.

"Come on out," the man outside yelled. "I just want to talk."

"I don't believe him," Alejandro whispered to Hallie, tucked behind him.

I was pretty sure we all shared his feeling, but that didn't end up mattering as the man-shaped demon outside lost patience. He erupted out of his laid-back surfer suit, splitting the skin as he burst out like a sausage left too long on the grill. The remaining demon was surely a king, as big as Claus with large horns that stretched back instead of up, curving down at the ends into twin points. His skin was a dark, muddy red that reminded me of an infected wound. Though his horns were smooth save for the segmented ridges, his body had the wrinkle of a hand left too long in water. Black eyes stared into the camera, unblinking. We all suspected who the demon was, but our suspicions were confirmed the moment we spotted Pierce hobble to his master's side.

"He looks like shit." Knox sounded pleased by the fact.

He wasn't just being mean, either. Pierce's cut on his forehead looked infected. The shifter probably wasn't used to worrying about things like infection.

"That's what happens when you're a backstabbing prick," Diesel snarled.

Thalasso stepped out of his human suit, and everything that was left dissolved into ash. "You lot have caused me enough trouble. It's high time we truly meet." He paused as though waiting for us to rush outside and curtsy. "No? You didn't tell me your friends were so shy, Pierce."

The old pack Alpha winced when Thalasso said his name. His breaths were short and jerky, like he was trying to breathe around a few broken ribs. I could only imagine Thalasso hadn't been happy the last time Pierce had a chance to kill the alphas and chose to showboat instead.

"Don't worry. I'll start the introductions." The demon bowed to the camera. "My name is Thalasso, Demon King of drowning, and I'm tired of talking to a machine." He lifted his arms, and a funnel of water shot all the way from the ocean at the bottom of the cliff to our front door.

We had a half second to prepare before the door burst in. Jazz, Storri, and Sitka shifted and flapped their wide wings, bringing their children to their backs and safely above the water. A second spout, wider than the first, burst in from the sitting room, sending a flood of furniture surging into the foyer.

My wraiths wrapped around my body the moment before the water covered our heads and flushed the pack out the front door.

"There we go." Thalasso's voice echoed above the roar of rushing water. "These dogs are who have been causing such a ruckus?"

My knees hit solid ground. Around me, the others were coughing. I'd lost track of half the pack, seeing only Jazz flapping with wet wings. He had the most trouble flying, and it showed with the effort it took him to stay off the ground. I wanted to call his name and get closer, but didn't want to attract attention.

The alphas were on their feet, everyone in their wolf forms but Hallie, Alejandro—the man likely regretting