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—”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Raphael spoke from behind her. “Instead, why don’t you tell me what happened and why he wants me here.”
Lucifer was heading into the fitting rooms with a delighted assistant in tow.
She may as well talk to Raphael, because clearly, they weren’t going anywhere until Lucifer fixed his wardrobe.
“We encountered a rage demon stirring people up in a neighborhood.” She turned to find Raphael flipping through a stack of sweaters. “Really!”
“Sorry.” He dropped a sweater back on the pile and blushed. “Lucifer dealt with the rage demon?”
“Far more efficiently than he is picking out shirts.” The assistant bustled back to the shirt rack and selected another three.
Raphael grinned like a proud parent. “He prides himself on his sartorial elegance.”
“Back to more important issues.” Bianca would be a long time before she didn’t see those dead witches piled into that room like trash every time she closed her eyes. “Did you deal with what we found?”
Raphael’s beautiful face softened. “All were returned to their nearest and dearest.” He put a strong, warm hand on her shoulder. “How are you doing?”
“I’m not.” A gaping wound between her ribs had opened and it throbbed now. “Some of them were people I knew. Friends. Coven sisters.” Tears, if she could find them, would be a relief. “They were all important to someone, loved and valued, and for them to die like that…”
“We will stop this.” Raphael’s rich, smooth baritone made everything seem possible, but she couldn’t believe in dreams anymore.
“But will we stop them in time to save Leona?”
“Everything that can be done, is being done.” Raphael cradled her hand between warm palms. “Wrath and Haziel are monitoring the situation in hell. Zeb and Levi are looking for who is leading this.” He placed his free hand on his chest. “We archangels are scouring our archives and those around the world for clues as to how to repair the seals.”
It made her selfish that she cared more about what was being done to save Leona and the witches who had been taken from other covens. “And the witches?”
“You, me, and Lucifer will find them, and then we’ll find who is doing this. And we will stop them.”
Chapter Fifteen
Bianca peered through the car window at the large hotel they’d stopped in front of. Raphael had been correct, and nothing had budged Lucifer from his shopping until he’d gotten everything he’d wanted. She’d barely stopped him from giving her wardrobe an overhaul. Everything she wore was black. Black went perfectly with other black. As it was, Lucifer’s purchases had filled her trunk.
The hotel they were stopped in front of was way out of her budget. “Why are we stopping?”
“It’s a hotel.” Lucifer climbed out from the driver’s seat and handed the keys to a uniformed valet.
