The boys were rolling, grappling, and punching.
Another door opened further down, and a man ran for the fighting children. “How about I hit you, you fucking cunt?”
More doors, more people, more yelling.
The man and woman almost collided. She slapped him. He grabbed her by the throat.
One boy was bleeding from the nose and lip. The other from the eyebrow.
A second man flung himself on the man who had the woman in a chokehold and pounded him.
Someone started screaming.
Strong arms fastened around Bianca’s waist and pulled her back. “Stay clear,” Lucifer said against her ear.
Punches flew. Faces locked in rage, eyes hard and deadly.
“It’s the rage demon,” Lucifer said.
Bianca watched in horror. These people—neighbors—were trying to kill each other. “Do something.”
“Cease!” Lucifer’s voice echoed through the neighborhood.
A wash of power hit the combatants.
Bianca caught the outer edge of it and staggered.
The fighters stood frozen in their grisly tableau.
Lucifer took a huge spring that launched him over the still scene and halfway up the garden behind. His wings released. Two sweeps of their glittering black and silver span took him as high as the treetops.
Wind whipped his hair around his face as he searched. He locked on something and arrowed for a garden shed. A glittering black blade appeared in his fist, and he disappeared behind the shed.
Something issued a pained bellow, and a light flashed.
The pressure in Bianca’s chest eased.
People on the street started moving again, looking at each other in confusion, exclaiming in shock.
Bianca’s anger drained away.
Witnessing people’s horror as they realized what they’d done to each other was nearly as bad as the fighting. She wanted to turn away, but her gaze stayed stuck in sick fascination.
Lucifer strolled out from behind the shed.
People went silent and watched him as he approached Bianca. “Come on.” He took her elbow in a firm grip. “Time to get out of here before the questions start.”
She allowed him to bundle her into the car and get behind the wheel. It took four blocks before she could produce a coherent sentence. “A rage demon caused that?”
“Yup.” His face settled into grim lines as he checked the cross street before entering the intersection. “We don’t allow them on the earth plane for obvious reasons.”
“Shit.” It didn’t bear thinking about what would happen if one of those things got hold of a large crowd.
Lucifer glanced at her. “Quite.”
“What did you do?”
“I ended him.” Lucifer drove toward the center of town. “And he was a lot stronger than he should have been.”
She wrapped her arms around her torso for comfort. “That was fucking terrifying.”
“Yup.” He eased into a parking space in a strip mall. “And if I don’t find Ashe and who he’s working for, it’s going to get a lot worse.”
She peered at the large department store in front of them. “What are we doing here?”
“Retail therapy,” he said. “And then food for you.”
“Are we shopping for weapons?”
Lucifer blinked at her. “Weapons? Why would we do that?”
“For the demons.” One of them wasn’t keeping track of this conversation, and she had the sinking feeling it was her.
He opened his car door and climbed out.
Bianca followed him into the store. “Excuse me? Are you going to answer my question?”
“I’m contacting Raphael.” He strolled toward the men’s section. “And no, we are not shopping for weapons.” He scoffed as he flipped through shirts on a rack. “I hardly need human weapons to fight demons. They wouldn’t work anyway.” He growled at the shirts. “Don’t they have natural fibers?”
“Try there.” Bianca pointed to a section displayed under the name of a well-known designer.
Lucifer headed off with a smug grin. “Yes!”
She followed him with a building need to smack the back of his head. Not ten minutes ago, he’d ended a rage demon who had almost managed to get an entire neighborhood to kill each other. Now, he was choosing between a charcoal and a slate button down. “Would you stop doing that and tell me what we’re doing here.”
“I can hardly be expected to continue wearing these disgusting track pants.” He stared at her aghast.
A glimmer of outraged comprehension blinked through her confusion. “You’re clothes shopping. Now?”
“Of course.” He took both shirts and closed in on a rack of suits.
“Can I help you?” A dapper shop assistant appeared beside Lucifer, beaming with the promise of a big commission.
“No, thank you,” Bianca snapped.
“Ignore her.” Lucifer returned the man’s smile. “I’ll need a couple of suits, some shirts—”
“I can’t believe—”
