Page 71 of Paramour of Sin

I cringed as the sharp, angry sensation of silver rolled out of the safe. Peeking around Guinevere’s shoulders, I gaped at the small compartment—it was filled to the brim with Gleason’s manufactured silver weapons.

The Nephilim scientist must have found a way to line the safe so that the heat of the silver wouldn’t bother Guinevere or any other visiting demons. I didn’t know whether to think him a genius or to be worried about the kind of power and destruction he was capable of.

Guinevere grabbed two knives like the one she’d used last night—silver blades, black handles. Then, instead of offering me a weapon, she closed the safe and pushed the painting back into place.

I opened my mouth to protest—while I might not be Eve, I knew how to handle a damn dagger—but before I could speak, the presence intensified.

Right by the front door.

I whipped around, my gaze zeroing in on the foyer while Guinevere ducked behind the hall table. She flailed her arms at me to go hide, and I flailed back at her that she was being ridiculous. Anyone watching from the shadows would probably call us both insane.

The doorbell rang.

I raised an eyebrow, and Guinevere frowned at me.

Intruders didn’t typically ring the doorbell.

“Yeah, hi,” a feminine voice called through the door. “I know you’re in there. I just want to talk.”

“Who are you?” Guinevere called back, and I scowled at her. “What? She already knows we’re here.”

Suddenly, smoke appeared at the end of the hallway, followed by the acrid scent of brimstone. Then the demon portaled inside.

Hello, gorgeous, I thought, raking my gaze over the female. Her long, gleaming brown-black hair framed a killer body that looked equal parts curvy and powerful. She also had a strange aura that I recognized—A Halfling. Huh. That’s rare.

Demons scarcely found a human female capable of carrying a spawn to birth, but clearly this woman’s mortal mother had accomplished it. And her ability to portal suggested she had averypowerful father.An Archdemon, perhaps?I wondered.What brings you here?

Guinevere fell back on her dominant foot and held up the knives in what had to be a practiced pose Evangeline had taught her, reminding me that we should be threatened, not intrigued.

Right.

“Please don’t,” the newcomer said. “I just want to talk to Eve.”

Guinevere narrowed her eyes at the demon. “Eve?”

“Yeah, you know, Daughter of Death, badass angel, penchant for silver knives.” The demon looked pointedly at the blades in Guinevere’s hands. “I’ve been trying to find an in, but she's constantly surrounded by Nephilim and ew. And I’m running out of time.” She glanced around. “I’m not supposed to be up here and when I’m found, well, it won’t be pretty. But I need help getting a message to the Divinity.”

Suddenly, two more presences arrived on a swirl of sulfur. Remy and Tax appeared in front of us, halfway down the hall from the female demon.

Tax snarled and held up a finger at the demon. “Don’t fucking move.”

The Tracker was tall and lanky, and a little on the scrawny side— in my opinion—so I had no doubt that the portal enabled Halfling in the foyer could kick his ass if necessary. In fact, she didn’t appear to be at all surprised by his sudden appearance. Nor did she appear to be particularly intimidated by him, either.

Remy whistled low under his breath and posed against the wall, leaning on one chiseled arm as he looked her up and down. “Hello, pretty Halfling. You’re a hard demon to find.”

She scoffed. “You two idiots need a better hobby than chasing me all over the fucking city. You suck at your job, by the way,” she said specifically to Tax. “I was always two steps ahead of you.”

Tax growled and took an intimidating step forward, but it didn’t seem to faze her at all.

Before the two demons could launch into a fistfight, Guinevere spoke up. “Why do you need Eve to deliver the message to the Divinity?”

The female demon tore her glare away from Tax and focused on Guinevere. “Because she’s the only one who will likely listen to me.”

Guinevere laughed, but she still hadn’t lowered her knives. “Have you met Eve? Pretty sure that’s not true.”

The Halfling arched an eyebrow. “She’s best friends with a demon. Seems like a safer bet than Azrael or Xai.”

“Well, she likes me,” Guinevere pointed out. “That makes a bit of a difference.”