Demons Prefer Blondes (24 page)

Serah stepped from the shadows, the new katana in her hand. Red eyes flashing predatory gleams, she gripped the sword tightly. She turned her gaze to Lucy briefly, a maniacal grin spread across her face.

Lucy needed to act fast.

Rafe’s silver eyes focused on her, his face draining of color. “Oh my God… Lucy!”

“Rafe!” she managed to gasp. “Behind you!”

“Too late, Deleon.” Serah’s double clucked her tongue. “This makes up for Monday night.” With that, she thrust the sword into Rafe’s back.

Rafe spun to face Serah, blood pouring from his wound. Wielding his own sword, he flailed it in the air, missing Serah’s neck by a mere centimeter. Serah countered his attack, by spinning around and slicing a long gouge into his stomach. Slumping to the ground, he grabbed his middle, a river of dark crimson pooling around him. Never had she seen blood so dark.

Blood. Her mind spun. Rafe’s blood. Her stomach twisted and her head spun, spots flashing in front of her eyes. Bile rose into her throat and her breath caught. Tears, thick and salty, dripped down her cheeks as despair clawed its way into her chest.

“Oh, Rafe. I’m so sorry.” Hands and knees of mush, she scrambled her way across the floor. She had to save him.

“Lucy,” he gurgled out, coughing out a thin trail of blood. “I’m the one who’s sorry… never… should have… left you alone.” His eyes flickered, the silver fading. He let out a ragged gasp.

“Sorry is, as sorry does,” Squeaky said, his voice laced with sarcasm. With a quick kick and stomp to Rafe’s lifeless body, he grinned. Another flash of silver flickered as he raised his hand in the air. Gripping her prized silver candlestick high in the air, he brought it crashing into her skull. A bright flash of pain followed by empty darkness. She had failed Rafe. She had failed the world.

Bam! Slam! Bump!

“Ouch,” Lucy muttered, struggling to open her eyes. Reaching up to rub her achy head, her hands smacked against cold glass. Leave to those two demonic wenches to handcuff her. Silver too, no doubt. Legs folded in ways that would make a contortionist jealous, she lugged herself up.

Cramped in the back of her own car like a sardine, she wriggled herself around. Head careening against the back door, she let out a muffled
oof
. Were these bitches deliberately looking for every pothole in the blasted state? And where were they taking her anyway? To Hell, probably. It sure felt like it.

“Thank the Dark Master I can finally be rid of that disguise,” Larissa—who had since discarded her chimp suit—said, rustling her fingers through her always immaculate golden tresses. “The stench was horrible. I can still smell him on me.”

There’s the Larissa she remembered. Always immaculate, always perfect. How wrong she was. Lounging the seat back, not caring that it was crushing Lucy’s knees, Larissa heaved a sigh. “How much longer?”

“Quit with your incessant chatter, woman. We’ll get there when we get there.” Lamia, hands on her steering wheel, threw back her blood-red curls.

Blood. Rafe. Oh God. Was he… dead?

And it was all her fault. With a frustrated grunt, Lucy fidgeted with the cuffs binding her wrists. These bitches would pay. Adrenaline pumping in her system, she lunged toward the front seat. A slicing pain laced its way from her stomach to her brain. A deep growl of agony wrenched from her mouth. What had they done?

“Where’s Rafe?” she managed to growl.

Lamia adjusted her rearview mirror to gaze at her reflection. “Oh, look. The princess hath woken. Your fuck buddy isn’t dead. Belial isn’t quite done with him. Unfortunately, we had to leave him for now. So hard to clean upholstery, you know.”

“Oh, so kind of you.” She clenched her fists and the cuffs jangled. “I’m going to love kicking your ass. Upholstery stains and all.”

“Should I put her back to sleep?” Larissa asked, her singsong sweet voice grating on Lucy’s eardrum.

“No, let her stay awake for this.” Lamia turned to face her directly, the red rims of her obsidian eyes glimmering. “Comfortable?”

She could only manage a slight roll of her eyes. “Like you care.”

“Oh, I care, all right. Belial is paying me rather well for your safe capture.” She snaked her hand out, allowing a scaly finger to creep along Lucy’s cheek. Clenching her teeth, Lucy fought the nausea that churned within. She should’ve stabbed the bitch when she had the chance.

“Yeah, right. You care.” The only thing the bitch cared about was sucking the blood from innocent children. Lucy’s stomach lurched. Lamia needed to be sent back to Hell, and, given the chance, she wouldn’t hesitate to do it. But that time wouldn’t come now. The danged silver handcuffs made sure of that.

Tugging at the handcuffs, she prayed she could channel some superhuman powers to free her wrists.

“Won’t work. You haven’t been accepted as a Paladin.” Larissa smirked from cheek to cheek. “And after tonight, you won’t ever.”

With that, the car bounced over a huge pothole, sending Lucy’s head crashing into the ceiling. Rubbing her head, she growled.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To Hell, of course.”

“Hell? I wasn’t a geography major, but isn’t Hell a little further south?”

Lamia threw out a low chuckle. “Unfortunately, we don’t have the power to make that journey.”

“I’m confused. You just said we were going to Hell. And now we’re not. Make up your mind, lady.”

Larissa turned her über-gorgeous head and smirked. “Oh, we’re going to Hell, all right. Hell, Michigan.”

Hell, Michigan? Oh please. These bitches would be unpleasantly surprised when they got there.

Lucy flashed a secret smile. “I hate to break it to you… umm… ladies, but the only thing Hell, Michigan, and your Hell have in common is the name.” Unless ice cream parlors with cheesy lounge singers were demonic. Then again she, herself, was demonic and didn’t know it.

“So you’ve been there?” Lamia’s eyes sparked demonically.

Time to play with these bloodsucking bitches. “Yeah. But be careful. You sneeze and you’ll end up in Heaven instead.”

Larissa reached across the seat and slapped Lucy’s face, sending her flying backward. “Not funny. You forget. I’ve been there too. And we’ve confirmed it’s the perfect place for the ceremony.”

Lamia grabbed Larissa’s hand, her grip firm, dimpling into her servant’s skin. “You’ve said enough.” She loosened her hold and traced her finger against Larissa’s lips. “Ahh, silence. If only I could do the same to you.”

“And why can’t you?”

“Cocky little bitch. That’ll get you killed, you know.”

“Whatever. So what’s this ceremony Belial is putting together? Has he decided to have his
bris
?” If only they could be that fortunate. She heard it hurt like hell. “I’d be more than happy to do the honors. I’m pretty good with a scalpel.”

“If your skills are as sharp as your tongue, I don’t doubt that one bit.”

With a shrug, Lucy craned her neck to check the highway mile marker. Ugh. Still another hour to go. Lansing’s lights whirled by as she sucked in a deep breath. This wasn’t a dream. It was real. She needed Rafe. Even though they just met, they had a connection. Aw heck, it was more than a connection. She loved him. And now he was lying on her floor in a pool of blood and she couldn’t do anything to help him. Teeth clenched and hands fisted, she struggled to remain calm. Tongue between teeth, lips pursed, she let the gnawing pain combat the anger that boiled and flamed inside.

“And to answer your question, it’s a wedding ceremony.”

Glancing up at the star speckled sky, she shook her head. “Wow, that’s surprising.”

“Most women, human and demon alike, would jump at the chance to become Belial’s wife. He’s one of Hell’s strongest princes.”

With a wrinkle of her nose, she recalled her one run-in with the wannabe prince of darkness. “If they can get over the stench of cinnamon and rotten eggs. It smells like someone cut a huge one and tried covering it with cheap air freshener.”

A steaming hiss erupted from Lamia’s mouth. “I should’ve known.”

Boo yeah! She found a kink in their plans. She mentally steepled her fingers with devilish delight. “That your boss smells like a rotten cinnamon roll?”

“Very funny. He’s spent most his life in the bowels of Hell. When I say bowels, I mean bowels. If you can smell him, you’ve been blessed. Damn Lilu!”

“Gotta love Dad.” Lucy smiled triumphantly.

Lamia turned her head, her sneer burning. “Just a
minor
setback, my dear. So stop gloating.”

She chose to ignore. “I’m blessed! I’m blessed. Lord help me, I’m blessed.” Maybe if she annoyed the witch long enough she would kick her to the curb and leave her on side the road in some boondock town.

“What has been blessed can be unblessed.” Lamia’s mouth curved into a snide smirk. “We’ll need just a few more items.”

With that, she pulled out a red-and-black striped iPhone and punched a button. The red matched the rims of her eyes way too perfectly. Holy cow, these Infernati and their minions went all out where communication was concerned. An annoying beep emitted from her phone. “Blast it. The battery’s going dead.”

“Even demons are slaves to technology, eh?”

“Whatever,” Lamia muttered, fidgeting with the charging cord. “Another minor setback. And I can make calls and charge at the same time.”

With a triumphant, in your face smile, she mashed her finger to the phone. “Ooh, it’s ringing.”

“Yippee!” Lucy twisted her arms behind her back. Surely there had to be a way break free from these stupid cuffs. She was the princess of the Sexubi, after all. There had to be more than just kung fu and Latin translation. Not that those were bad skills to possess.

“Would you like me to put the speakerphone on?”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Lucy said, leaning back into the stiff seat. “Belial and I started out on the wrong foot.” And they would stay on that wrong foot too.

Lamia’s mouth slithered into a creepy smile. Lucy cringed inwardly.

“It’s not customary for the bride to talk to the groom before the wedding, anyway.” She brushed her finger over her lips, shushing Lucy with a soft hiss. “Yes, I have her…”

Yeah, Lucy should’ve figured she was the bride. It made perfect sense. After all, these demons were pretty backward as it was. So she was supposed to be Belial’s meek little wife, barefoot and pregnant in his hellish kitchen? She had news for him.

“Actually, the rules state a groom can’t see his bride before the wedding. No rules about talking to her.” Lucy made her best attempt at a friendly smile.

“So what happens when Belial and I say ‘I do’?” If it was anything like Hollywood theatrics, the Earth would split, emitting flames and bursts of lava into the air. “Do I get a T-shirt that says ‘I married Belial and all I got was this lousy T-shirt’?”

Lamia ripped the phone from her ear. “Silly girl. Your banter will get you nowhere. If you must know, Belial takes ownership of everything in your possession.”

Sucked to be Belial, since the chest was actually Serah’s. “I’ve got bad news for you, girl.”

“Oh?” she asked, her lips quirking up with delight. “About the chest belonging to your friend? It was easy to convince her to gift it to you. It’s yours now, darling.”

Her heart plummeted. They hurt Serah. They would die. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“A little torture never hurt anyone. She was stronger than I expected.”

Lucy gritted her teeth. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Nothing that can’t be reversed… with a little surgery.”

Cuffs clanking as she struggled with her hands, Lucy growled—deep and guttural. “Bitch.”

“One of Belial’s hired assassins kidnapped her and the chimp, and delivered them to me.” Her jaw clenched and her red eyes flickered. “Your friend put up a good fight. The assassin, however, did not.”

“Good for Serah.”

“Larissa took care of the assassin, not Serah. I can’t have too many people knowing our plans.”

“She’s your tool.”

Lamia shrugged. “She enjoys it, though. See.” She craned Larissa’s head around to face Lucy. A calm, almost sweet smile, crept across her face. Such a masochist.

Hell, next right, emblazoned in reflective tape, caught Lucy’s eye.

With that, Lamia cracked her head up. “Oh goody. We’re almost there.”

“I hate to tell you, but you still have at least another hour to go until you reach Hell.” Yes, it was the exit, but Lamia failed to realize that the road to Hell—pun absolutely intended—was a bunch of backwoods county roads and highways. If she was lucky, Lamia would take a wrong turn and end up in Climax—Michigan, that is—instead. One could only hope.

Grinding her finger into her phone, she punched buttons. “ Lovely! I enjoy a scenic trip every so often.”

“Hope your suspension doesn’t mind.”

“Pardon me?”

“Michigan… country roads… Winter. Do the math.” And, as if to illustrate her point, the car rumbled over an icy chunk of asphalt, sending her head into the ceiling—
again
!

Her only satisfaction was watching Lamia’s head crash against the ceiling too. “Devil’s balls! How much further until we reach Hell?”

“As I said earlier, another hour or so,” Lucy replied with a nonchalant shrug. “You’ll be disappointed. Hell is a hole.”

“Belial is quite confident it’ll work for our purposes.” The red flashed around the irises of her eyes. “Try all you want to dissuade me, my dear. It won’t work. I’m almost as powerful as your father.”

“But not quite.”

“Belial has promised me more power.” A sinister smirk crept across her lips. “And then I’ll take over your father’s kingdom.”

“You’re such a tool.”

“A tool? Me? I think not.”

Lucy shrugged. “Whatever, lady. Belial is only concerned with Belial. I could tell just from looking at him.”

“We’ll see.”

Yep, she knew one thing. Larissa was an extension of Lamia, the biggest tool of them all.

Pain, grinding and throbbing, shot through his entire body. Eyes squeezed shut, he groaned. But nothing was as painful as the sight of Lamia and that bitch Larissa manhandling Lucy’s body. If only he had just an ounce of strength. He could’ve saved her. Immortality came with some drawbacks. Instead of death, pain plagued your body until your wounds healed.

The metallic tang of blood curled along his tongue. These wounds cut deep, just barely missing his heart. It would take at least a day for him to properly heal without treatment.

Treatment.
Kalli
, his mind screamed.

Digging into his pocket, he fished for the phone. Blood pooled around him, thick and crimson. It was a miracle he remained conscious.

Fingers slipping on buttons, he pushed the button to dial Kalli. Another miracle. She was the last person he called.

“Hello?”

“Kalli,” he sputtered out.

“Rafe? What’s wrong?”

“Lamia… has… Lucy.”

A loud breath of air rumbled in his ear. “I’m on my way.”

Dragging his bloodied body across the floor, he reached for the dilapidated chair—Lucy’s favorite—and pulled himself up. There was no way in any part of the afterlife that he would cower in fear. The Fore-Demons chose him for a reason. He—
they
—Lucy and he—wouldn’t fail. He owed it to her. Sucking in a ragged breath, he shook his head. There wasn’t any need to fool himself any longer. He wouldn’t save her because he owed her. He would save her because he
loved
her.

A sudden swirl of adrenaline pounded through his system. Blood pumping in his chest, he hoisted himself up and stood tall. Rays of heated energy radiated through his veins, warming him, comforting him…
healing
him. Even as the freezing swirls of Kalli’s arrival flew around him, the energy pulsed through his body, sizzling against the icy crystals.

“How is this possible?” he muttered, gazing down at the jagged gash in his abdomen as it faded and blended into his skin. All that remained was a thin pink line.

Bursting out of the wall of ice, Kalli allowed her gaze to rove around the room. “Rafe, where—” Gaze locked with his, she arched a brow. “I thought you were hurt.”

With an irritated huff, she crossed her arms across the magenta lace of her bodice. “We don’t have time for jokes, Deleon.” Pacing back and forth in her ripped fishnets and tall army boots, she scrubbed her fingers through her rainbow mat of hair. Still perplexed by her strange choice of garb, he shrugged. He’d seen images of her through history, had seen her beauty. Not that she wasn’t beautiful now…

“Stop reflecting on my life and tell me what’s going on? I don’t like leaving Lucy’s friends unattended.”

“I healed myself.”

Kalli blinked. “You what?”

He blew out a frustrated breath of air. “Exactly what I said.”

“That’s impossible. Even I can’t heal myself.” Kalli shook her head. “Would totally rock if I could though.” Scanning the room, she blinked. Dark crimson blood trickled and coated the floor. No denying that fact.

“Good God! Is that
your
blood?”

“Yes. I’m telling you the truth. Look.” Ripping up his T-shirt he traced the thin line that remained of his scar. “See.”

Leaning in for a better view, Kalli traced a finger over the faded pink jags. “Definitely a fresh heal.” She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “You lost a lot of blood. Even I can’t heal someone that fast.”

“What’s happening?”

“Duh,” Kalli said, planting her leather-clad ass on the futon, the only piece of furniture not coated in blood. “I don’t know. I’m a healer, not a miracle worker.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kalli angled a serious gaze his way. “What do I mean? No demon has ever healed himself. It isn’t supposed to be possible.”

“Well, it is.”

Kalli grumbled. “We need to talk to the Fore-Demons. Do you remember anything at all before you healed? Anything you said? Thought? Anything?”

Lucy. He’d thought about Lucy. Saving her.
Loving her.
“Lucy.”

“You were thinking about Lucy?” Bemusement and amusement both swirled in her gaze.

“I need to save her.”

Kalli’s lips quirked up into a knowing grin. “That’s it?”

“She needs our help. They’re taking her to Belial. I owe it to her. I…” he cut himself off. No way was he ready to admit to Kalli he’d fallen for Lucy.

Kalli’s brow jutted upward. “You what?”

“Nothing. I just want her safe. She’s Lilu’s daughter.”

With a shrug, Kalli crossed one leg over the other. “There has to be more. Maybe the Paladin manual will say something.” Angling her gaze down to the large bulky tome next to her, she smiled. “Still as massive as ever.” She lugged the book to her lap and flipped it open. “Don’t just stand there looking dumb. Help me read it.”

“Section 24-6-A.” He’d spent hours poring over that book during his early years as a Paladin trainee. There wasn’t any sentence or word he didn’t know. The section in question pertained to the healing skills… skills he shouldn’t have… skills reserved for certain Paladins only.

Swiping the mop of hair from her face, she scrunched her brows. “You need to get out more often, Rafe.” Glancing down at the book, she drew her finger across the ancient text. Narrowing her gaze, she let out a deep grumble. “There’s nothing here about self-healing. Where’s an index when you really need one?”

Rafael recited the words, as if he’d just read them yesterday. “To heal yourself, gather your internal energy and focus on that part of you which needs healing.”

“Where in the heck did you read that?” Kalli thumbed through several pages, scanning each line. “There isn’t anything like that in this entire section.” With a frustrated grumble she flung the book at him.

Flipping the pages, Rafael scanned through the text, his gaze flying over word after familiar word. He knew he read it somewhere, but where? Bloody hell! He knew he wasn’t going insane, but he certainly would be if he didn’t get to Lucy in time.

“I swear to all that is the Paladins I read it.” He turned the page to where he’d seen it. “It’s missing a page.” He turned the page back and forth, frustration and anger creasing his brow. Jaw ticking, he slammed his fist down on the book.

Kalli perused the book. First she pointed at page 792 then to 793. “Does this look as if it’s missing a page?”

Shaking his head, Rafael clenched his fists. “There
was
another page when I read it.”

“Sure. Maybe you dreamt you read it. Maybe the Fore-Demons know more about you than you know about yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this: you’re more powerful than you realize. Maybe it isn’t Jacoba who’s the Chosen Paladin.”

“Bullshit,” Rafael ground out. “Jacoba is the only logical choice. She hasn’t failed any of her missions.”
Like I have.

With an exasperated breath of air, she shook her head. Turning to face him, she grabbed his shoulders, her gaze stony serious. “You’re too hard on yourself, Rafe.”

“I have reason to be. I’ve failed the only two women I… I’ve had to protect.” He’d almost said loved. Curse him. He couldn’t have Kalli knowing of his weakened state.

She arched her brow in that annoyingly inquisitive fashion. “I’d suggest visiting the Fore-Demons, but we don’t have time. Do you remember anything at all?”

Rubbing his temples, he closed his eyes. Reluctant to relive the painful memory of Lamia and Larissa’s abuse of Lucy’s lifeless body, Rafael sucked in a ragged breath of air. They could kick him any time, any place. Seeing them slapping and kicking defenseless Lucy sent a pain shooting right to his heart. The fact that he couldn’t do anything to stop them still chilled him to the bone. What had happened to the woman he had cared about two hundred years prior? His stomach roiled and churned in disgust. How could he have missed it?

“Anything?” Kalli asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

He shook his head, struggling to remember the words that floated around him in a foggy shroud. Lamia and Larissa were arguing about Hell and which way would be the fastest. They were going to Hell. But how? He hadn’t even shown Lucy how to journey to Limbo. A journey to Hell would take much more energy.

“Bloody hell,” he growled.

Kalli’s head jerked up, her gaze alert. “What?”

“They’ve gone to Hell.”

“Hell?” Kalli rolled her pierced tongue between her teeth. “That’s impossible.”

Rafael shuffled his feet across the carpeted floor. “I heard them talking as I drifted in and out of consciousness. They’re going to Hell.”

“Hell? That’s highly unlikely.” Kalli yanked at her magenta bodice and stretched her legs. “They haven’t enough energy, and we’ve warded the portals to Hell. They aren’t going anywhere.”

“They were arguing about who would drive,” he mumbled, rubbing his temples.
Drive?
Demons didn’t drive to Hell. With a disappointed groan, he shook his head. He’d imagined the whole bloody thing.

Kalli tapped her fingers on her fishnet clad thigh and shrugged. “That’s odd.” The annoying tone of Kalli’s phone pierced the air, silencing her. With a drawn-out huff, she pushed a device wedged in her ear. Bluetooth, if he remembered correctly.

“Hello? Is the shop secure?” She adjusted the earpiece. “I’m with Rafe. He says they’re taking Lucy to Hell.” She shook her head. “No… there’s no way they can get there. Rafe says they were driving there though.” Kalli’s brow tightened. “Oh? I’ll call you right back.” With that she flipped her phone shut. “Driving you say?”

“I imagined it.”

“What if you didn’t?”

“Driving to Hell is impossible.”

“What if Hell is on Earth?”

Clenching his fists, Rafael gritted his teeth. “I haven’t the time nor the patience for your cryptic banter, Kalli.”

“Maybe you’re right about them driving to Hell.”

“How so?”

With a roll of her eyes, Kalli flounced up from the futon and padded to the desk in the far corner. With a push of a button, Lucy’s computer fired to life. Punching some keys on the keyboard, she clicked the mouse.

“Come here.”

“What is it?” he asked, moving next to Kalli. Leaning down, he scanned the screen.

“It’s called a computer.”

Rafael growled deep and low. “I know what a computer is. I’m not that uneducated in human technology.” Placing a hand on the back of her chair, he leaned over to look at the monitor. “What do you want to show me on Lucy’s
computer?
”

“This!”

Rafael blinked as he read the screen. A blog post about a woman’s recent trip to Hell… Michigan. This had to be a joke. “Who in their right mind names a town Hell? This can’t be real.”

“Gerardo says it is.” Kalli clicked something within the text and another site loaded. “Yum. Ice cream,” she said with a click to the picture. A larger picture of an ice cream parlor appeared. She punched more keys and clicked enter. The colorful website that looked like a pamphlet for Halloween gone bad vanished, a map taking its place.

“Zip code, 48169.” Pointing at the map emblazoned on the screen, Kalli shifted in the chair and snorted. “And here I was expecting to see 666 in there somewhere. Nope! All they get is a little 69.”

Rafael blew out a deep breath. Leave it to Kalli to crack a joke when times were dire. “Bloody hell! This isn’t the time for jokes.” With an irritated growl, he clenched his fists. He struggled to fight the urge to pound his fist into the first inanimate object he came across. “I need to save Lucy—
now
!”

Kalli rolled her tongue ring between her teeth and spun the chair to face him. “I want to save Lucy too, but we can’t just up and travel there. First, we’ve never been there. We could get lost in the portal. Also, it’s too far, even if you’re able to focus on Lucy. On top of that, Belial’s probably blocked the area from any traveling.” She blew out a frustrated breath of air. “Bastard.”

Rafael drew his lips together. Excellent points. “How far is Hell?”

Kalli punched some more keys and hit enter. Scanning the website, she scratched at her rainbow mop of hair. “A couple hours by car.”

Computers, Rafael mused. Was there anything you couldn’t find or do nowadays? “Impressive. Time to throw away that atlas.”

“You need to get out more.”

“What am I doing now?” Crossing his arms, he narrowed his gaze. “So I guess we’re driving.”

“There’s one itsy-bitsy problem.” Kalli played with her tongue ring, the metal clanging against her teeth.

Bloody hell.
Clinging to every last bit of control, he took a deep breath. “What is it?”

Kalli scraped a red lock of hair from her face and lowered an embarrassed gaze to the floor. “I don’t know how to drive.”

“You’ve been here for how many years and never learned?”

“You never learned either!” Kalli crossed her arms. “I distinctly remember an accident with a Model T I was sent to clean up.”

Now wasn’t the time to bring up the past. “I wanted to keep myself separated from Earth.”

He refused to dwell on Miss Amanda Newell, all the pain and heartbreak she’d caused him. His jaw twitched. At one time he would’ve cried, but now he just felt anger. Not at Amanda or Lamia, but himself. He wouldn’t let them get the best of him again. He would rescue Lucy, and he knew what to do.

Ripping his cell phone from his pocket, he punched in some numbers.

“Who you calling?”

Rafael, despite the direness of the situation, let a smile spread across his face. “We have friends who can drive.”

Kalli arched both of her brows, bemusement swirling in her gaze. “Friends?”

“Gerardo and Frankie!” he boomed, excitement lacing his tone.

Eyes widening, Kalli chuckled. “Why didn’t I think of them?”

“Gerardo?” Rafael cupped the receiver to his ear.

“
Sí
,” the Latino responded in his native language. “Who’s there?”

“Rafael.”

“Rafe?” The man’s effeminate Latino accent echoed in his ear. “Where’s Lucy? Kalli said something happened. What’s going on? Is everyone all right?” The words flew out in a jumbled rush.