She barely slowed for a stop street before taking another hard left.
Lucifer took back his uncharitable thoughts about the Corolla. The car was handling this bat out of hell shit like it was glued to the road. This side trip might turn out to be useful. If whoever had taken this Leona was connected to Ashe, this trip might even work in his favor. “So Weaz-adj investigated?” he prompted.
Bianca shot him a glance before—blessedly—returning her attention to the road.
“Leona was gone, but her children were still there,” she said. Her determined facade buckled, and she pounded the steering wheel with her palm. “Fuck! They’re so young. They need their mother.”
Lucifer was not usually in the business of reassuring humans. Mostly, it was humans who needed reassurance because of him, but Bianca’s obvious upset pinged a trace of empathy, so he said, “We’ll find her.”
“You don’t know that.” Bianca swiped angrily at a tear. “Don’t say shit that you can’t back up. Nobody needs lies and platitudes. Believing that bullshit only ends up hurting more in the end.”
He smelled a story. His interest surprised him.
“Eight witches have gone missing from our coven,” she said. “And we haven’t found one of them.” She shook her head. “Nine now.”
That was a lot of missing witches, and she was right about platitudes. But she was wrong about him. He never made promises he couldn’t follow through on. Her missing witches had just become his mission.
Ashe and his fucking cohorts had been draining Eddie to death when Shade and Sophia had rescued her. Eddie was his niece, and despite what Wrath believed, Lucifer did care for her. The amulets had been used against his family, and that made them his problem. If, as Bianca suspected, her missing witches were creating those amulets, they were in more trouble than he had the heart to tell her about. “How old are they? The children.”
“What do you care?” She shot him a glare.
If he had to deal with humans, he’d much rather deal with children. “How old?”
Bianca drew a juddering breath. “The oldest, Emma, is eight. Her brother, Ethan, is only five.
“That’s young.” Young enough for other humans not to have twisted them and for life to have destroyed their innocence. Despite himself, that stirring of empathy deepened. “I’ll help in whatever way I can.”
“You have to help,” she snapped. “Blood oath, remember?”
“Hell prince, remember?” She didn’t seem to get that and what it meant. “And I’ll help because I choose to, not because of some ridiculous blood oath.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders eased a touch. “Thank you.”
“After which, you will fix the amulet issue and restore my power.” He hardened his voice. No need for her to think he’d grown soft.
Her lips twitched. “Of course.”
“Good.”
She nodded. “Good.”
After about ten minutes of hurtling through the small town of Clayton, Bianca jerked to a stop outside an old brick farmhouse.
Several other cars were parked in the driveway.
The door opened, and a male figure stood in the entrance, backlit by the lights from the house.
Bianca took a deep breath. “Let’s hear what Christen has to say.”
“How thrilling,” he drawled as he followed her up the path dissecting the tiny front garden. Herbs spilled out of an eclectic collection of flowerpots. Crystals lay scattered between the pots. All the garden was missing was a black cat.
“Bianca.” Weaz-adj folded his arms and flexed his pectorals. “I have no idea why Patty called you. I have everything under control.”
A muscular wasting disease would be just the thing for Weaz-adj, but Lucifer didn’t have time to play with his paper ego and stood chest to chest with him. “Move.”
Weaz-adj leapt out of the way with gratifying alacrity. At least someone understood who they were dealing with. Even if it was that pathetic specimen.
Wool tucked under one arm, knitting needles churning, Patty bustled down the hallway. “Emma and Ethan were asleep when it happened.” She caught him staring and shrugged. “I stress knit.”
Turning back to Bianca, Patty continued. “Ethan is still asleep, but Emma woke when Christen broke down the door.”
“It was necessary.” Christen flexed and preened. “An emergency.”
“You scared the poor little souls half to death.” Patty jabbed him in the shoulder with a bright purple knitting needle.
Christen tried to fend her off. “I had to.”
“Stop speaking.” Lucifer stared him down. “And go away.”
Bianca gave him a grateful smile that pleased him. The fact that it did please him pissed him off and he scowled back.
“I made Emma some hot chocolate.” Patty led the way down a cramped hallway. Family photos covered the peeling, yellowed walls. “But she’s asking for her mother.”
Bianca straightened her shoulders like she was buckling into her armor. “I’ll speak to her.”
This seemed like a job for him, however. When he bothered to use it, humans responded well to his charm. There was a reason humans continued to write him into books, make movies and television shows about him. Putting a hand on Bianca’s shoulder to stop her, he said, “I’ll talk to her.”
“Really?” She eyed him suspiciously. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
