“Something awful has happened to him. I’m sure of it.” Carmen sobbed. “He would never leave like that.”
Lucifer looked dubious.
She shared his skepticism, but she did need to establish the facts. “Were all his things still at his house?”
Part of her hoped Carmen would say she didn’t know because she wasn’t familiar with Christen’s house. They’d been getting close, but Bianca didn’t think it had progressed to sleepovers. She didn’t want to think it had gone that far.
“His car was gone.” Carmen sounded defensive. “And his sitar and that drum he got in Mozambique, but that doesn’t mean anything. They could have taken those things when they took him.”
As Bianca had endured more than one evening of Christen’s musical “expressions,” if they had abducted Christen with his sitar and drum, there was a good chance they’d be bringing him back shortly. “Wait! Wasn’t he using your car?”
“The things you own end up owning you,” Carmen quoted with a sniff.
Lucifer growled.
The sound vibrated through her skin in a not entirely unpleasant way. “But he was using your car?”
“I don’t believe—”
“Carmen!”
“Okay, yes. My name is on the paperwork,” Carmen said.
Bianca reached deep for her patience. Losing her temper with Carmen would only drive her sister in the opposite direction. “Your name is on the paperwork because you paid for the car.”
“I told him he could use it.” Carmen sounded sulky.
It took everything in Bianca not to yell. “What did Patty say?”
“She called him a wanker.” Outrage vibrated down the line. “And then she tried to get me to call the police and report the car stolen.”
She could have kissed Patty. Christen’s disappearance didn’t sound anything like the kidnappings, which begged the question of why. Had he been freaked out by everything that was happening and run? Bianca couldn’t entirely judge him for the urge. She experienced it herself, a lot.
What she couldn’t excuse was how much this had upset Carmen. “He didn’t text you or call you?”
“No.” Carmen sniffed. “I can’t believe he would leave me like that.”
Unfortunately, Bianca could believe it only too well. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
“He said he loved me.” Carmen sobbed.
Christen liked to throw the word love around like glitter at a pride parade. Bianca had tried to subtly warn Carmen about him, but her hands had been tied, and Christen kept tightening the knot. Every time she’d tried to speak to Carmen, Christen had explained it away as her being jealous. She felt like a rotten liar as she said, “This doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”
Lucifer gave her a hard look.
She totally deserved it, but she waved him off with a hand flap. Carmen didn’t need to hear I told you so right now.
“Bee?” Carmen’s voice wobbled. “There’s something else.”
“About Christen?”
“Yes.”
Why was there always something else with that fucktard? “Tell me, sweetie.”
“It’s bad,” Carmen whispered. “Patty said she’d like to shrivel his dick when she found out.”
Avoiding Lucifer’s oh-too-interested stare, Bianca braced. “Tell me.”
Carmen muttered something.
Bianca’s brain decoded the mumble and then immediately tossed the meaning out as impossible. “Say that again, sweetie.”
“Patty thinks Christen took the grimoire.” Carmen’s tone grew more certain. “I told her it was impossible. Christen would never take the coven’s grimoire. He loves the coven. He would never do anything to damage our magic.”
Her head spun, and Bianca was glad she was already sitting down. Her gaze was drawn to Lucifer.
Eyes blazing—and not in the sexy way they’d blazed last night—he straightened.
Barely cognizant of what she was saying, Bianca murmured a few more reassurances to Carmen before she hung up.
Lucifer’s voice was silky with menace. “Tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it does.”
Swallowing to relieve her suddenly dry mouth, Bianca said, “Christen might have stolen the coven grimoire.”
“I heard that much,” he drawled.
Hair rose on her nape as prey recognized an apex predator in the room. “He took our magic.”
