“I have a feeling I know what Kip and Hugh are going to do, and there’s no way I’m missingthat.” Lorrie plopped back down on the quilt. “Thanks for the offer, though, Sabby.”
“If your wife has sufficient strength, please ask her to contact Max Boucher and have him come to the breach site immediately,” Hugh said to Sabrina. “We’ll need him.”
“Will do.” Sabrina gave Gwen a swift hug, then bent down to embrace Lorrie too. “Be smart, and be safe.”
Then she was gone. Her car disappeared into the distance just as the first camo-painted helicopters appeared above Wall Two and beelined in their direction.
“I don’t know what explanation you’re going to offer the authorities,” Gwen told Hugh and Kip. “But good luck.”
“Yeah.” Lorrie snickered. “Especially to you, Hugh. If you fight my cousin, you’re gonna need it.”
Gwen reared back. “What?”
“Brimstone.” Hugh didn’t say more, and he didn’t need to.
Gwen’s harsh exhalation curled in front of her like smoke. “Oh, crap. I totally forgot about that.”
After an hour or two spent near Wall One, her nose had grown accustomed to the telltale scent of demonic violence, the final planted sign of the species’ guilt. The officials would have noted the smell right away, though—and then promptly blamed demons for the breach.
Since Sabrina couldn’t muster the power necessary to remove the scent from the entire site, the group had hoped the smell would dissipate naturally before government officials arrived. That hadn’t happened, so the breach site’s sulfurous stench required a plausible alternative explanation.
Lorrie was right. Hugh would need all the help he could get. He’d need medical assistance too if Kip wasn’t cautious.
She tipped her chin high to meet the troll’s eyes. “Please be careful.” As a sop to Hugh’s pride, she added, “Both of you.”
“Here goes nothing,” the highly unhappy-looking demon muttered, and shed his leather jacket, leaving his upper body covered only by his tight black crop top.
Well, Gwen thought,at least he’s going to look great in the emergency room.
—
By the timefour military helicopters landed nearby and began disgorging uniformed troops and besuited officials, the lopsided battle of troll versus demon had just begun.
Gwen’s heartbeat echoed in her ears, almost drowning out the slowingthumpof the helicopter rotors. All she could do wasstand frozen on the quilt, speechless with dread, and avoid eye contact with anyone brandishing a firearm or wearing epaulets while she watched the impromptu performance.
“The human woman is mine!” Kip bellowed. “All mine!”
Oh, damn. Gwen had a terrible feeling that she knewexactlywhat the cover story involved and why her presence might help sell it. But even with her here, who would actually believe it?
Kip launched a meaty fist at the much-smaller demon, the swing wide and showy. The punch barely clipped Hugh’s jaw, as far as Gwen could tell, but Hugh staggered backward and cried out in dramatic agony—just a split second too late.
Gwen scrubbed her face with her palms, hiding her expression.
“Um…” The demon cleared his throat and planted his feet, fists on his hips. “Never! She’ll never be yours! Because she’s mine! Even though she very much remains her own person as well, with full sovereignty over her own body and choices!”
“Amazing.” Lorrie crunched on a steaming handful of herbed popcorn. “Such passion.”
With a shout, Hugh rushed toward his opponent, who obligingly ducked his head to meet the blow. The troll then roared his own displeasure, stumbled, and landed with a resoundingthumpon his butt, thus making himself much more easily reachable for Hugh.
Even to Gwen’s untrained eyes, this was a disastrously bad imitation of a fight.
“Should I be saying something?” she whispered to Lorrie. “Reacting somehow?”
Lorrie’s broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Probably.”
“Stop, you two!” When the fighters didn’t react, Gwen cuppedher hands around her mouth and tried again. “Physical violence is never the answer, except in extremely select circumstances! And these are not the aforementioned extremely select circumstances!”
Hugh gave her a subtle shake of his head—did he want her to stay out of it, or was he merely commenting on her lackluster advice?—then turned his attention back to the troll he was ostensibly battling.
