I might have screwed up, but they were the ones who’d killed her. While I couldn’t change anything I’d done back then, there was plenty I could do to make them regret their life choices now.
They weren’t going to get away with what they’d done to her or any of the other shadowkind. Including Omen, as big of an asshole as he could be. On the balance of things, I’d take him over the men with whips and nets any day.
Rolling my shoulders carefully to test the injured one, I got up. It appeared the property we’d ended up on had once been used for New Age-y retreats. Along with the crystals, three bunk beds were crammed into the single open-concept room between posters with nature photos and encouraging phrases like, “Believe in the sunshine of your spirit!” We’d found a heap of rolled yoga mats in the shed outside. But based on the dust that had coated nearly every surface and the weeds choking the driveway, no one had made use of the place in months, if not years.
I stepped out into the yard where Omen had parked the Oldsmobile under the shelter of an oak tree hung with fraying dreamcatchers. They swayed in the warm morning breeze. In that first second, it appeared I was alone on the property. Then my four shadowkind friends shimmered from the shadows into the daylight.
They didn’t look all that friendly. Omen’s mouth was set in a tight smile, his gaze holding its usual chill as it came to rest on me. The other three were watching him. Thorn stood with muscles tensed, his frown even deeper than usual, and Ruse’s expression looked uncharacteristically serious. Snap’s eyes had widened with worry.
“There’s no need for all this fuss,” Omen said, clearly picking up the thread of a conversation they’d been having out of my hearing. “If she’s half as competent as you’ve spent so much time trying to convince me she is, she’ll handle this without any trouble at all.”
“But we shouldn’t be trying to make things harder for Sorsha,” Snap protested.
I walked over, raising my eyebrows. “What exactly am I supposed to be handling that’s so very hard?”
Ruse’s lips twitched as the incubus no doubt thought up a few suggestive remarks he could make in response, but he settled for a subdued smirk. Omen lifted his chin with the authoritarian air that was getting on my nerves more each day.
“We’re attempting to turn the tables on our enemies at the hand-off tomorrow evening,” he said. “Enemies who’ve already proven themselves very skilled at overwhelming us. If you’re going to play any part in the ambush, I want to be sure your mortal clumsiness won’t ruin our chances.”
If I was so clumsy, he was lucky I didn’t trip right now and accidentally ram my knee into his junk. But sure, he hadn’t seen me in action—maybe it was understandable for him to be skeptical. I’d just bash that skepticism into the stratosphere, and if he was still being a jerk after that, then we’d see where my knee ended up.
I shrugged. “Fine. Hit me with your best shot.”
Omen swept his arm toward the other men. “You see. She doesn’t require your protection.”
“She does occasionally take on more than even a shadowkind would think is wise,” Thorn muttered. To be fair, it was true that he might not have needed to save me from any bullets if I hadn’t insisted on handling that job alone.
“I’m sure Omen doesn’t have anything too horrifying in mind,” I said, and smiled sweetly at the other guy. “Do you?”
Omen gave me an expression even more openly disdainful than usual. “We’ll start with this: my colleagues and I will take Betsy into the city. You will make your own way there, by whatever means you can come up with. I expect to see you at the Finger no later than noon.”
It was a trip of nearly a hundred miles, and it was already past nine. Ruse tsked with teasing disapproval. “I did hear you like to play hardball with the mortals, Luce.”
“Luce?” I repeated.
“Short for Lucifer.” Ruse cocked his head toward Omen. “Not that the actual prince of Hell actually exists—or Hell itself the way humans conceive of it, for that matter—but from what I understand, our boss here used to make a game out of convincing mortals he held the title.”
Omen cut his icy eyes toward the incubus. “That was a long time ago and is hardly relevant. I’d