Page 70 of Paramour of Sin

Valentino cocked an eyebrow but nodded. “Right. I’ll get that started as soon as I return home.” He glanced away toward the beach and added, “Ah. There’s my ride now.”

A dark figure had appeared near the water line—a Portal Dweller.

“He has impeccable timing,” Valentino said, picking up his wine glass. “I’ll gather my Dargarian and go. But we’ll be in touch.”

“We will,” I agreed, following him back into the master bedroom.

Valentino set his glass down on the bedside table, then reached for the demon’s hand, releasing enough of the bindings on him so that he could walk. I escorted them both out, then retrieved the dirty wine glass and placed it in the sink. Closed the verandah doors on both levels. Shut off the lights.

Then waited until I felt Valentino leave my territory.

After he portaled away, and my territorial censors calmed, I decided a discussion with Evangeline was my next step in resolving this situation.

Chapter Twenty

Zane

The clock ticking on the wall irritated me.

It served as a reminder.

A constant click, click, click, that we weren’t where Zebulon wanted us to be because we were still waiting on a damn Portal Dweller to arrive and take us to Chicago.

I didn’t know what pulled Zebulon away so suddenly, but it was clearly a threat.

Hence, his order to relocate.

An order we were trying to fulfill rather unsuccessfully at the moment.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

I’m going to murder this fucking clock.

I glared at it, ready to rip the offending thing off the wall.

Guinevere hadn’t spoken at all since Zebulon had portaled away. She sat on the other side of the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a sweating glass of ice water like it was the only thing anchoring her to the room. Tension thickened the air between us, plus the lingering aftereffects of lust from Zebulon’s kiss. The overhead light shone down on her, highlighting her dark brown hair as it curtained around her pale face.

She looked worried. Scared. Still angry, too.

I didn’t know what to say to her. Or how to apologize. She couldn’t hold a grudge against me forever, right? We were longtime friends. Yeah, I’d made some mistakes, but I still wanted her. And I cared about her, too.

Surely that had to count for something.

A simple “I’m sorry” didn’t feel good enough, though. Then again, it was a reasonable place to start.

But the moment I finally found the nerve to break the silence, a chill swept through the room.

I stiffened, and Guinevere’s head popped up, her eyes going wide as we exchanged a glance. The scent of sulfur followed, fresh on the air, and an ominous presence clouded my senses.

It reminded me of the one from last night. That darkness that I’d felt lurking around Guinevere’s house when I exited my car.The demon’s back.

Guinevere leapt out of her chair and darted from the room.

“Guinevere!” I hissed after her, stunned by how quickly she’d left me sitting in her dust. I shoved my chair away from the table, nearly tripping over my own feet as I followed her into the hallway.

She stood at the wall, punching a code into a panel—a panel that had apparently been hidden by the generic beachscape painting I’d walked past a hundred times before. The picture hung open on cleverly disguised hinges, revealing a keypad and a solid metal door beneath it.

After four little beeps, the panel whirred, and the safe door popped open.