WAITING OUTSIDE OF the Great Hall—for what seemed like a century—for Lassal to show up for his meeting with Satan, Lucifer propped his shoulder against the hunter green marble wall, and inspected his fingernails. Like all things he oversaw to perfection, he assessed the precision filed edges and the clarity of his healthy nail beds. After thousands of years living in the underworld, he had grown his network of servants and spies. He knew every move made at any given point, by every demon, save Satan was making. Finding out about this little meeting was nothing more than child’s play, thanks to his in residence servant Bosc.

The scent of Mont Blanc Legend cologne filtered through the air, assaulting his nostrils before Lassal turned the corner. If it weren’t for the fact the male had no decency for proper application of scent, he wouldn’t have been offended by it. “You might consider toning down your bitch stink. Otherwise, one might assume you work in a whorehouse.”

“Fuck you, Lucifer. Not my problem you can’t get laid lately.”

Game on. If the silver-haired Fallen wanted to play a games of wills, he wasn’t going to like how far Lucifer was willing to go. Lifting his piercing blue eyes from under his low brows, Lucifer trained his sights on his newest opponent.

“We need to talk,” he clucked. His disgust for the Fallen made his stomach roll. Although one could argue he, Lucifer, was a Fallen as well. The semantics didn’t matter much. He was Satan’s right hand man, and more importantly, his Prime General.

Blowing out a ripe curse, Lassal rolled his head back dramatically before leveling his eyes on Lucifer. “What the fuck do you want, Luci?” Nope. There definitely was no love lost between them. Their mutual distaste for one another was rife. “I have shit to do.”

“In such a hurry are we? Pity. I have some interesting news. But … if you’re too busy, then I’ll take my information elsewhere, where it’s appreciated.” He pushed off the wall, squaring his shoulders off with the male before him. Lassal rolled his silver eyes as though he was already bored with the direction the conversation was heading. His disinterest spiked up Lucifer’s desire to punch a hole through his head.

Lassal folded his arms across his broad chest and huffed out another sigh. “So? What? Did you break one of your toys or some shit?”

“Watch yourself, Fallen.” His voice was grave as he issued a warning. “I won’t hesitate to feed you to the barghest.”

“Oooh so scary. Go peddle your bullshit threats to somebody else. I’m not buying anything you’re selling today.”

“Fine.” He cocked a lopsided grin, shrugging his shoulder. “Then I guess the news about the new Darkling shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. And here I thought I was the only one in the know about it.”

The male’s eyes flashed open, staring down Lucifer. His nostrils flared, as the distinct sound of teeth grinding filled the air between them. “What of it, Lucifer?”

“So you haven’t heard the news I take it? Good.” Pressing his palms together, tapping each set of fingers like a cartoon villain, he considered Lassal, and held the Fallen’s exasperated gaze a moment longer. “It seems team Assholes have found the newest Darkling. And here’s the kicker. We had him first.” Lassal’s jaw dropped infinitesimally with the intel, trying to hide his shock.

“You’re joking. I don’t believe it.”

“Oh believe it. We had him first. When Xaphan, Vepar, and Carnax had set up shop, they dragged this kid off the street and planned to add him to the list of innocents they tortured to break the first Darkling. So, it comes as no surprise he survived. Xaphan screwed things up. Anyhow, it doesn’t matter now. I assigned my personal assassin to follow the Darkling around. And as luck would have it, he found out who’s guarding the little prick.”

“So? What does it matter who’s guarding him? You know how the Brethren operate. They stay close to their charges.”

“Because it’s your sister, shit for brains. Kakabel is his guardian. Are you getting a clearer picture now or should I use smaller words for you to comprehend what I’m saying?”

Lassal fired back another question without missing a beat. “Who’s this assassin? How do we know his information is accurate?”

“He was a gift from Vepar upon his sudden departure.”

“Wait. You mean Kayd?”

“So you know who I speak of? Interesting.” It was a rhetorical question, but Lassal being the über-douche he was, he answered anyway.

“Of course I know him. I trained in hand-to-hand combat with him. So, you’re telling me, he saw my sister with the Darkling? Well then, I’d like to have a few words with him.”

“Why?” He wasn’t going to risk losing his best asset to a half-assed feathered fucker like Lassal. The male might have converted to the dark side, but Lucifer didn’t trust anyone who gave up their angelic wings as freely and easily as Lassal had. Then again, he wasn’t in a place to judge, considering he had been the first one to willingly fall from God’s grace. Ancient history.

“I need some specifics, the smallest of details make the biggest difference. So arrange it. Have him meet me here tomorrow night at eight.”

“Now why should I help you? What’s in it for me? I mean, doing this, getting Kayd down here to talk to you, compromises my secret.” Lassal bristled, chuffing in obvious disgust. So easy to provoke. What a pussy.

“This isn’t a game, Lucifer! Besides, you want to make up for your screw up with the first Darkling, don’t you?” It was a hit to the balls, and they both knew it. Instead of causing pain, as any male would yelp and tear up while holding their beloved jewels, Lucifer let the fury lick up his spine until all he saw was red. Without a second thought, he lunged at Lassal, clutching him by the throat and nutsack, slamming the Fallen against the marble wall, sufficiently shattering it into spider-webbed fractions. “I’d mind your manners, boy, if you know what’s good for you. I could easily snap your neck.”

“Let me speak to Kayd,” Lassal huffed out, wriggling in Lucifer’s hold. “If you help me, I’ll help you in return.”

“How?” he challenged, not budging an inch.

“I’ll tell Satan it was your idea, capturing the Darkling, holding him in the Desmons until he turns.” He coughed again, trying to suck what little air in he could. “You’ll get all the credit.”

The offer was enticing, then again, so was twisting off Lassal’s head and using it as a soccer ball. Go team Lucifer! “Fine.” He dropped Lassal and stepped away. “Tomorrow night then. And do send my regards to the Dark Lord. I must take my leave now. There’s work to be done.”