Demons Prefer Blondes (17 page)

“You have every right, my dear.” Her father came to stand next to her and took her hand in his. “I’d feel the same if I were in your position.”

His touch was tender, just as it had been when she was a girl. His gaze pleaded, drawing her to him. She missed him so much, but now that he had returned under false pretenses, she didn’t know what to do. She took a deep breath.

With smooth efficiency, she pulled her hand from his. “I told Mom I’d let you explain. So explain.”

Her dad smiled. “Thank you, my little—”

Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head. “Don’t even…” She didn’t want to be called a little demon. Especially not now.

“Fair enough.” He turned his gaze to the empty couch. “Will you have a seat now?”

She had no choice. She ambled to the couch and took her time getting comfortable. She gripped the arm tight to prevent her hand from doing something she would later regret. “Better?”

Rafe scratched his stubble as he scrutinized the father and daughter powwow. Why was he here? To hell with this protection baloney. Why was their family reunion any of his concern?

She turned to face Rafe. “No offense, but why are you here?”

Shrugging, Rafe sank further into the chair, his hands balled into tight fists. “It concerns me.”

She gazed to father and demon and sighed. Both remained straight-faced and tight-lipped. Her words came out a little harsher than intended. “What the hell is going on?”

Her dad blew out a ragged breath and rubbed his temples. “I’m trying to find the right words.”

“Say what? That you’re a demon?” With bemused wonder, she scratched her head. “Easy as pie. ‘Lucy, I’m a demon.’ See?”

Her father let out a halfhearted chuckle. “I wish it was that simple.”

“Don’t tell me you’re an Infernati warrior and you’ve come to bring me back to Belial.”

Her dad’s amber eyes sparked. Not at her, but at Rafe. Daddy wasn’t the only one withholding information. “Belial?”

“Uh oh,” Lucy whispered. Hopefully four hundred-plus years of demonic training would help him. But her dad’s hard glare said it all. Worry for Rafe raced through her.

Clenching his fists into tight balls, Rafe squirmed in his chair. “I’m surprised Lilith didn’t tell you.”

Dad scratched his chin and paced back and forth. “I haven’t summoned her yet.”

Her eyes widened. Summoned? “Amazing.”

“Pardon?” Her father’s brow jutted upward.

“I’m amazed anyone could summon her. She seems pretty”—
bitchy
—“hardheaded.”

Rafe coughed and shifted in the recliner. “That’s putting it mildly.”

Swiping a hand through his dark blond hair, her dad shrugged. “My sister wouldn’t dare defy me.”

“What are you?” she asked with a chuckle. “The Sexubi king?” And what did he mean by sister? She couldn’t bring her mind to even wrap around the thought. Cringing in horror, she wrinkled her nose. “Tell me it isn’t true.”

Her dad narrowed his gaze. “To answer your question…” He paused, his eyes narrowing to increase the dramatic effect. “Yes, I am.”

She didn’t know what was more shocking, the fact that her dad was the king of kink or that the sex addict formerly known as Mrs. Gunderson was her aunt.

One thing remained certain: this time she wouldn’t faint.

Her head reeled as her dad relayed the whole sordid story. He’d come to Earth to “rejuvenate” himself. Sometimes sucking the energy from his subjects wasn’t enough, apparently. He met Victoria Jennings right after she graduated college. He’d been up front and honest and said he originally planned on using some of her energy, but he’d fallen in love with her instead.

They even got married in a Catholic church! There went her spontaneous combustion theory right out the window. Then again weren’t those who joined the Paladins blessed by angels?

Then came little Lucia in a baby carriage. What a shock that must have been, at least to her dad. Was she a miracle or an abomination? Hopefully neither. She wanted a normal life, not the life of a sex-starved succubus. Another reason to hate her dad.

“You were a blessing, my dear. I prayed that you never inherited my powers.” He shook his head. “No one deserves to live like that.” Could he read her mind too? Wouldn’t be a surprise. Time to test the waters.

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Shit on a shingle. Whittle me this. Whittle me that. Let’s carve a big black bat.

Since her dad hadn’t busted out in laughter, it was safe to assume he didn’t have the skill she despised.

Instead of laughing, her dad’s voice cracked as he continued the story. “My sister informed me that Lamia and those who severed were planning to take over the kingdom.” Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “I had no choice.”

“I guess a kingdom is more important than family or your daughter’s graduation.” Not that it was as grand an affair as med school, but it was important to her. He knew it, too.

Rafe reached across from his chair and took her hand in his. Leaning in, he whispered, “Let your father explain.” His breath, hot against her ear, sent her pulse skyrocketing. In front of her undead dad, too? This man had her thoroughly enraptured. She didn’t care what he said. Rafe had control over her in a completely dangerous and exciting way.

“I’m not stopping him,” she mumbled. With a quick turn back to her dad, she crossed her arms. “Explain yourself.”

Her dad’s eyes grew wide and beseeching. Typical charmer. “If I stayed, the kingdom would’ve been thrown into chaos. That chaos would have spread to Earth.”

He paced back and forth. “I always made sure you were protected. Your friend too.”

“Serah? You never seemed to care for her when we were growing up.”

“I wasn’t able to tap into her.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I have the power of suggestion. And nothing I suggested broke through.”

“So she has a built-in anti-demon device, huh?”

“She is the anti-demon device,” Rafe mumbled.

With a curious arch of her brow, she looked between the two men. “Umm, okay?”

“She had no marks and an innocent soul,” her dad said, swiping a hand over his graying goatee. “She was harmless. She’s taken care of you, Lucy. I’m very grateful.”

“Cool. I’ll let her know.” And now the question of the hour, because
executioning
minds wanted to know. “Why’d you come back?”

“Lamia’s prized minion showed her overly pretty face.”

Rafe sucked in a ragged breath. His eyes swirled with turmoil. “Amanda.”

Lucy reached over and took his hand in hers. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t pull away.

“Leticia, Lily, Linda, and Laurel, to name a few more.” Glancing over at Rafe and her, her dad shook his head.

With a quick jerk, they pulled their hands away. Rafe turned to the window, and she swiped a hunk of hair from her cheek. So much for consolation.

Dad cleared his throat. “She thought she’d be sneaky and use a different name this time, but Lilith was on the ball—as always.”

Good ole Lilith. “Great disguise, by the way,” she said with a snicker. “Gives new meaning to ‘don’t judge a book by its cover.’”

“My sister is a mistress of disguise.”

“Among other talents, I’m sure.” And why was the sex demon formerly known by five other names targeting her dad and her? It had to do with more than just Lamia. “What’s so bad about Larissa taking Joshua off my hands?”

Her dad flashed a sidelong glance at Rafe. “Yes, Joshua Carlson wasn’t the best man for you, but even so, to move in on another succubus’s mate is against Sexubi code. Then again, Lamia makes her own code.”

“Lamia sounds like a real winner.” And hopefully she wouldn’t have to meet her.

“I can handle Lamia.” Rafe clenched his fist. “I have before.”

Her dad crossed his arms. “Yet here she keeps coming back for more.”

Maybe she was a masochist? Lucy turned the conversation back to Josh’s fiancée. “So how does Larissa fit in?”

“Miss Newell, as she was known when I first lay with her, was one of Lamia’s human servants. The enchanting aura of her sensuality enraptured me.” Her father snorted. “I took her virginity.”

Rafe sucked in a hard breath, teeth clenching as her dad revealed all the dirty details. “Go on.”

“She told me she’d been with men. She lied. I might need sex to survive, but I swore as king to never take someone’s innocence.”

“She told me something completely different,” Rafe mumbled.

“Amanda claimed to love me.” Her father shook his head. “But it was a trap set up by Lamia. When her human form died, Lamia made her one of hers.” Her father turned to lock gazes with Rafe. “I’m sorry you never knew, Deleon.”

“People like keeping me in the dark. I’m sure it was done with good reason.”

“She wanted to become one of Lamia’s minions… completely.” Her father’s gaze grew apologetic. “She knew she wasn’t supposed to touch you, yet she did anyway. She knew exactly what would happen.”

“How comforting.”

Rafe’s voice, so hollow, tore at her heart. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and give him a hug. He needed to know someone cared and wanted to comfort him. Unfortunately, that time wasn’t now. It was time to change the course of the conversation.

Thankfully, her dad went on to explain how he returned to Limbo, never wanting to step foot on Earth again. However, he grew weak and needy.

Then came her mother and those same turbulent emotions. As that clichéd line goes:
The rest is history
.

“So, the reason Larissa is here isn’t Lamia, at all. It’s all you. The woman was jealous of your mom and you. She wants to destroy you.”

The joke was on her. Joshua Carlson and Lucy Gregory were doomed long before hot-legs Larissa Harding entered the picture. She couldn’t help but smirk.

“Poor Larissa,” she said with a pout.

Both her dad’s and Rafe’s brows jutted up with bemusement. “Huh?” Rafe asked.

“Josh and I were already on our way out. Her plan was for nothing.”

“Perhaps.” Her dad’s gaze grew serious. “Perhaps not.”

“What else does she want?”

“Your mother and you dead.” Wow, Lucy couldn’t have said it more succinctly.

Shaking his head, Rafe ground his teeth. “I can’t believe it. Am I that foolish?”

“No, Deleon. You still have human emotions. I have been around for two millennia and still I was duped.” Her dad’s eyes swirled like two fathomless amber pools. “I am more foolish than you.”

“Fools or no fools,” Lucy said, pulling herself from the couch. She placed her hands on her hips and glared like something reminiscent of a gunfight out of an old western movie. John Wayne had nothing on her—or so she hoped. “We have a demon infestation to stop.”

Her dad’s eyes sparked. “I love your pluck, but this won’t be easy. No fun and games like you see in the movies. No stunt person to fall back on. It’s real, and it’ll be deadly.”

She wasn’t ignorant. She knew it wouldn’t be all roses. After she locked fists with Belial and experienced the stench of brimstone and Atomic Fireballs, she’d learned that lesson. “I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself. Rafe will help me.”

She angled a beseeching gaze toward Rafe. “Right?”

“Your father is right.” His gaze pleaded back, like two giant puppy dogs wading in silver pools. Ugh! For only just meeting her, he knew her too well.

“But you promised,” she urged. “I’m the one who opened the chest, and I’m the one who needs to get us out of this mess. I feel responsible.”

“I’m responsible,” her dad interjected. “I should’ve brought you back to Limbo with me. I knew you had powers.”

“The only powers I have are a good roundhouse kick and some serious kung fu knowledge.”

Her dad raked a hand through his graying hair. “No, you have another ability.”

“I do?” Her mind reeled as she thought long and hard. Then it hit like a ton of bricks. “Latin? Why Latin?”

“I spent time with the Etruscans and eventually the Romans. My language abilities passed to you.”

“Gee thanks, Dad. So it’s your fault the nuns at St. Mary’s hated me.”

“That and they may have sensed the demon in you. Holy people are attuned like that.”

She put her foot down. “I’ll stop Belial, with or without your help.” She turned to Rafe. “Well?”

“It’s up to your father.”

Way to pass the buck, Rafe
. “Dad? You know I won’t take no for an answer.”

He threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine.” His gaze narrowed with seriousness as he stared out the window. “But be careful. A storm is brewing.”

She looked in the same direction. Thick black clouds churned and roiled in the distance. Heavy gusts of winds sent snow drifts flying across the yard. Craning her gaze toward the driveway, she groaned. Gerardo’s car, which was clean when they first arrived, already had at least six inches of snow piled on it. What in the hell?

Rafe rose from his perch. “They’re preparing for the solstice.” Pulling out his fancy pocket watch, he grumbled. “We have an hour.”

“I don’t like this, but I know my daughter.” Her dad’s lips curved into a wan smile. “Lucy won’t give up until she gets what she wants.”

She wouldn’t argue that. She’d always been determined. Beauty school, Luscious Locks… saving the world. “Thanks, Dad.” She turned to Rafe. “Ready to go?” Her eyes sparked as she loped to the door, leaving him no chance to refuse.

Justin Timberlake’s serenade pounded in Lucy’s ears as soon as she plopped her ass down in the car seat. She made a quick mental note:
Change ringtone.

Fumbling inside the abysmal handbag for the offending contraption, she groaned. “Stupid bag could swallow my whole…” she mumbled as she flipped up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Hey girl,” Serah’s voice crinkled in her ear.

“What’s up?”

“It’s snowing like mad here,” came through in bits of static. “Stay… work. Okay?”

“So you’re staying at work?”

“Until… clears.”

“Hold on a sec.” Placing her hand over the receiver, she turned to Rafe. “Serah says it’s too bad for her to drive here in the weather.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

She took her hand away from the receiver. “Rafe says that’s not safe.”

“Driving back to your house isn’t exactly safe either, is it?” Serah said in a moment of good reception.

“Good point. What if we sent Squeaky to protect her?”

“Squeaky?” Serah said with a bemused chuckle. “You want to send a chimpanzee to protect me?”

“Squeaky seems connected to her,” Rafe mumbled. “He’s a god after all.”

“Cool, then it’s settled.” She turned her attention back to the phone. “Squeaky will be there in about an hour.”

“You’re serious?”

“There’s more to Squeaky that meets the eye, Serah.”

“Other than his three-foot furry body?”

“A lot more,” she said, her voice firm. “He’ll be there in an hour. Okay?”

“Umm, okay. I have some old gangster movies buried in here somewhere. No
Chimpfellas
though.” Serah said then paused. “A customer just came in. Oh… a hottie too! Talk later.” With that, the phone went dead.

Serah and her hottie clients, oh brother
. With a smirk, she shoved the phone into her coat pocket. “Okay, let’s go,” she said as she put Gerardo’s car into gear and pulled out the driveway.

Rafe looked surprisingly relaxed. His hand no longer gripped the door handle and his face wasn’t scrunched in worry. Thank goodness he was getting used to riding in a car. At least it wasn’t Serah driving!

She turned to Rafe, ready to make conversation as they crept at a steady fifteen miles an hour down the icy road. “So who’s this Lamia I’ve heard so much about? Another ex?”

Rafe snorted. “I have more class than that. She takes the form of a snake and can change her appearance at will. After she joined the Infernati, she chose to nourish herself in a not-so-honorable way.”

“How?”

“She feasts on the blood of children.”

Her stomach roiled. “Disgusting! So I won’t feel bad when I kick her ass, then?”

“In theory.” Rafe scraped his fingers through his hair.

“That doesn’t sound all that comforting,” she said as she slid to a stop. A gust of wind blasted into the car, catapulting it sideways.

“Neither does that,” Rafe said craning his head to glance out the frosty window. “Bloody storm demons. Step on it!”

She slammed her foot to the gas pedal, the car revolting by skidding and slipping on the icy snow-covered road. “Easier said than done.”

When she had enough traction, the car lunged forward. Jerking the car to the left, she turned down the road and sped up as much as the weather would allow.

“Why would I feel guilty about battling a demon that bleeds children dry?”

“Remember, she takes many forms. An innocent baby, your prized family pet, a friend… a sister.”

He’d said enough. Lamia had come to him as his sister. How terrible! As she prepared for another sliding stop, the car rumbling and groaning beneath them, she turned to him. “I’m sorry, Rafe.”

Sucking in a breath, Rafe nodded. “No need. It’s not your fault.” His eyes flickered and flared with each word. “I’m glad the chest ended up in your friend’s and your hands. Had it ended up elsewhere, we’d have an even more serious problem.”

“But you yourself said I was inept.”

Rafe winced.

“Okay, maybe not in such harsh terms, but you know.”

“I apologize. I’ve just never seen any woman, demon or not—besides Jacoba—so determined to save the world.”

“Jacoba?”

“My sister.”

“Oh.” Talk about an awkward moment.

The way too quiet pregnant pause was interrupted by the cell phone—
again!
Now she officially disliked Justin Timberlake.

“What now?” she muttered as she dug the cell phone from her pocket. Gazing down at the display, she arched an eyebrow. Home? What the hell?

“About time,” came the squeak.

“Hey Squeaks,” she said, her voice chipper. “What’s up?”

Squeaky huffed, a sound that came out more like a strangled chipmunk. “Where the hell youse at?”

“We’re almost there. It’s a little slippery out here.”

“Hurry up already. The Boss needs to eat.”

“Boss? Eat?”
What the heck?

“Fuggedaboutit,” Squeaky growled. “As for eating, I still have to nourish the chimpanzee body I’m borrowing.”

“There’s food in the fridge.”

“You call that food?” Squeaky giggled. “Frozen lasagna in a box ain’t my idea of a meal. Don Corleone would be rolling in his grave.”

Time to make this chimp her own offer he wouldn’t be able to refuse. “So you want lasagna, eh?”

“Yes. Homemade lasagna, with fresh tomato, garlic, and basil.” He harrumphed as if she wouldn’t be able to honor said request. She had that ace up her sleeve.

“You’re in luck, Don Squeakleone.”

“How so?” His voice raised an octave in avid interest.

“When Rafe and I return, you’re heading to Serah’s work to guard her.”

“How does this involve filling my chimp gut with lasagna?”

She rolled her eyes. “Serah’s a caterer.” She curved her lips into a wide smile. “An Italian caterer.”

“Italian?” Squeaky asked in an inquisitive tone.

It was time to seal the deal. “Her lasagna is the best on this side of state. Even better than Vinnie’s Ristorante.”

“Tell me more.”

Taking a deep breath, she recalled the first time she tasted Serah’s signature dish. Heaven on a plate, yet still sinful. Her mouth watered just thinking about it.

“Homemade tomato sauce, oregano, and basil. Five cheesy layers, sausage, and beef. Mmm. Did I mention
real
ricotta cheese? No cottage cheese tainting her lasagna.” That always hooked ’em.

“I’m drooling just thinking about it,” he replied with giddy laughter. “So when youse gonna get here?”

“Five minutes, okay?”

“A’ight.”

“Squeaky?”

“Yeah?”

“You need to lay off
The Sopranos
.”

“Fuggedaboudit.”

Oh well, she tried. “Bye,” she said, snapping the phone shut.

Rafe blew out a deep breath. “All set?”

“Yep,” she said, hanging a right onto her street. Home sweet home. “Squeaky thinks you don’t like him.”

Rafe snorted. “I was a little put off at first.”

“He does have a unique vocal presence.”

“Bloody annoying,” Rafe said with a throaty chuckle. “But he’s growing on me, voice and all.”

“That’s cool.” Was she starting to grow on him too? From the way they locked lips, something grew. Every time they touched, whether just a simple brush or their
Titanic
-like kiss, one thing was certain. Electricity sparked in the air. Her heart raced. Dang, she was hopeless.

With a deep sigh, she took a left into the snow-piled driveway. Her tiny, yet completely functional, bungalow, despite the size, stood warm and welcoming. A trail of smoke blew from the chimney. Way to warm the house, Squeaky.

“We’re back,” she said as she chugged into the driveway and skated the car to a stop. Wind blew snow across the yard, and the maple tree swayed with each mighty gust. One way, then the other. Weird… strange…
unnatural.

Branches snapped, falling into the cold fluff below. Completely reminiscent of a bad Stephen King made-for-TV movie. Now this was the storm of the twenty-first century—demons included.

Screams and howls rent the air. Thick cold breaths of snow sliced into her face as she trod up the walkway to the porch. A branch snapped and propelled into her chest.

Her breath left her body in a giant whoosh as she slammed backward. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, steadying her. The intoxicating scent of peppermint and exotic spices wafted to her nose.

Her body, despite the freezing cold, melted into him. Her head lolled back on his massive shoulder. “Thank you,” she said in a breathy whisper. Allowing Rafe to loosen his hold, she pulled herself around to face him. She glanced up, absolutely amazed at his strong jaw, and the dark hair beneath his tight-fitting hat whipping as snow and ice blew. But most mesmerizing were those two silver eyes, sparking and churning with desire. She reached up, tracing a tender finger down his cheek. She was completely and utterly entranced. Not good when a bunch of storm demons were on the prowl.

Rafe’s gaze grew stony as he hauled her into his chest.

“What was that all about?”

The sinister chuckle sent her blood curdling. “Don’t let me stop your torrid embrace.” The voice, although haunting, sent shivers through her body.

Wrenching herself from Rafe’s arms, she spun around. Red curls swirled around a porcelain face, full red lips pouting. Her ruby red eyes flickered menacingly. Red eyes? Photoshop obviously wouldn’t help her photo. Not that Gerardo would want to take her picture anyway.

She clucked her forked tongue, sounding like a cross between Hannibal Lecter and Kaa from Disney’s
Jungle Book
. “I’m not happy with you, Rafe.”

She needed no introduction—the snake lady herself. “Lamia?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

Rafe offered a silent nod. “Leave her out of this, Lamia.”

“Another woman for you to fail?” A shrill cackle erupted from her mouth, her eyes boring into Lucy. “Did he tell you he sent his sister to her death?”

Her body stiffened and she raised her chin.
Don’t show her weakness.
“No, but we discussed how we would send you to yours.”

“Oh my! A smart one, just like your father.” Lamia’s forked tongue darted in and out of her mouth. “That trait will get you killed, Lucia.”

Rafe gripped Lucy’s arm, his fingers like a giant vice. “Don’t let her get under your skin.” Spoken like someone with experience.

“I never let anyone get under my skin.” Not even Mrs. Carlson. She moved her hand to the inside of her jacket, where she stored the silver blade her dad gave her on the way out. Not moving one flutter, she rejoiced. Maybe she was stealthy after all. Gripping the hilt with newly discovered superhuman strength, she yanked the blade from its sheath.

“Don’t,” Rafe urged.

Yeah right
. She wouldn’t give into this bloodsucking bitch. No matter how hard Rafe tried to stop her, she wouldn’t back down.

“Lucia, darling. Aren’t you a little worried?” She slithered toward them, her green scaly tail swaying back and forth.

Who does she think she is?
Lucy tightened the grip on her dagger. “Why should I be?”

“Your would-be protector.” She ran long slender fingers through the corkscrew curls, a wry smile curving her lips. Two pointy fangs pressed into her lower lip.

“Protector?” she asked, feigning insult. She yanked Rafe’s arms from her waist and pushed him away. “Do I look like I need protection?”

“Lucy,” Rafe urged with a low growl, his silver eyes warning.

“Shh,” she whispered. “I know what I’m doing.”

“We can’t risk—”

“Shut the hell up about risks for once, Rafael Deleon.” She angled her gaze back to Lamia. “He’s the one who needs protection. He’s an insufferable boor. He needs his ass kicked.”

Lamia snorted. “Doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

Rafe turned his head to Lucy and huffed, contempt rolling from him like a bad fog. “I’m full of surprises, unlike this woman. A real nag.”

Her heart clenched and her body shivered. Why in the hell did it feel like her heart had just been ripped out of her chest?

Rafe turned back to the forked-tongued bitch. “So, where’s your prized lackey? I thought for certain she’d come along.”

“Anxious to rekindle your old flame, are you?” Lamia licked her lips. “I can summon her if you like.”

“I find it hard to believe Larissa Harding, a woman who’d put a crowd to sleep, is a succubus.” Then again, it took Lucy a bit to accept the fact that she was one too.

“You better believe it,” Lamia said, lunging at her. “My best creation, and I owe it all to Rafe.” She angled her gaze to Rafe, her long tail curling up his leg.

Bitch!

She gripped the dagger tighter. She should slam it into her overly-endowed chest. And here she thought Lilith was annoying. This woman made Lilith look like an angel.

With a low grumble, Rafe yanked his leg from Lamia’s scaly grasp. “You won’t succeed this time.”

“We’ll see, my darling.” Her bright red eyes flickered with venom. “I’ve yet to fail where you’re concerned.” She clucked her tongue, the hissing grating in Lucy’s ears. “So predictable.”

“I’m not as naïve anymore.” Rafe crossed his arms, his muscles flexing against his leather jacket.

“I have my ways.” She drew her tail back and slithered away.

Lucy had enough. This woman would go down. “Hey bitch!” She raised her chin high, hand poised high with dagger glinting. “Don’t walk away.”

“I’ve come to deliver a message. Not to fight.” She ran her fingers through her snaky curls. “No need to draw your weapon, Lucia.”

“Deliver it,” Rafe said through gritted teeth.

Shrugging, Lamia turned around, her serpent tail swishing. She angled her gaze over her shoulder. “Belial wanted to tell you what a gracious guest your sister is. A pity for you, isn’t it?”

Ignoring the scaly bitch, Lucy gripped the dagger. “I have a message for Belial too,” she said, her voice calm yet firm. With cautious steps, she sauntered toward Miss Hiss. She raised her chin and stared her right in the eyes.

“I suppose I can play messenger for a bit.” Lamia grinned, her pointy teeth poking from her mouth. If only she could kick them out.