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Not physically, necessarily, but in terms of emotional harm, regardless of how close they were. And these two had seemed particularly close when he’d seen them together. He and his sister Lucy didn’t see eye to eye—after years of sibling rivalry fueled by their father’s vagaries, sometimes they downright hated each other—but he knew that if anything happened to Lucy, if anyone dared to hurt her, he’d be furious. He’d want retribution.

      But he couldn’t allow his feelings to get in the way of his mission. This wasn’t about him, in any event. It was about the kind of people the Smoks had cozied up to for hundreds of years. No, not people, but things. Lucien felt it was his duty to make up for the evil his family enabled.

      Helping a foolish family that had invited a demon into their home was one thing, and the routine cleansing of unwanted spiritual activity was a necessary service, but Smok Consulting had covered up depravities—cleaning up blood-spattered rooms after a nest of bloodsuckers had engaged in a Caligula-style orgy and fed on their half-dead victims for days; disposing of bodies when a shape-shifter lost control and slaughtered its own family, and then allowing that shape-shifting abomination to start a new life somewhere else with no consequences. The thought of how many lives his own family had allowed to be destroyed, looking the other way in the name of professional reputation and profit, sickened him.

      One of the key sources of tension between Lucy and him was her blasé attitude toward all of it, her seeming acceptance of the status quo. She was ambitious and had made it her life’s goal to show Lucien up and prove to their father that he’d made a mistake in choosing his heir. It was never going to do any good. Edgar was immovable, but Lucien was happy to let Lucy take the lead and the credit, to let himself seem lazy and spoiled. The longer his father was motivated to keep putting off retirement, the better. And Lucy was just better at business, which didn’t interest Lucien in the least.

      Rhea and Leo were staying at one of Rafe Diamante’s properties in his absence—Lucien had been tracking them since the reception—a gated community in northeast Sedona. Luckily, the Smok family connections gave him access to any of a number of exclusive communities here and around he world. He had no problem getting in. Rhea’s car, a red Mini, wasn’t parked in the drive at Diamante’s house, which could mean they were both out. But the lights were on inside.

      He pulled his ski mask over his face as he got out of the car, loaded an arrow in the crossbow and lined up the sight on the scope.

      Luck was on his side tonight. The revenant walked in front of the large picture window, looking down at something on the coffee table in the great room. Sheer curtains were drawn across the window, giving Lucien the advantage. He could see Leo perfectly through them but wouldn’t be visible from within.

      The image of Theia’s face popped into his head, making him hesitate just for a moment. But Lucien wasn’t responsible for the fact that the Valkyrie had created an abomination Theia’s sister happened to be dating. This creature had stalked the earth long enough. It needed to be put down. Forget about Theia. Easier said than done, but anger at himself propelled Lucien forward, and he took his shot straight through the glass, not wanting to waste the opportunity.

      The split second between the penetration of the glass and the arrow’s impact in his target wasn’t long enough for a normal person to react, but the revenant turned, causing the arrow to hit him in the shoulder. It had missed bone and gone straight through. Lucien grabbed another arrow, but Leo moved faster, charging through the broken window, and the arrow wasn’t fully loaded as he came at Lucien.

      Lucien dropped the bow, ready to defend himself in hand-to-hand combat. He only had to hold the revenant off for a little while. Despite the miss, the arrow tip would have delivered its poison, and it should be taking effect any minute.

      But Leo didn’t even seem impaired. Lucien bobbed and wove as Leo grabbed for him, throwing a right hook. Leo was faster, his fist catching Lucien on the jaw. The revenant barreled into him as he tried to take another swing, flattening him on the ground. Gravel and cactus tines from a decorative cholla ground into Lucien’s shoulder as the revenant pummeled him. The Soul Reaper wasn’t slowing this guy down a bit.

      A knee to Lucien’s groin ended any chance of regaining the upper hand.

      Leo climbed on top of him, hands around Lucien’s throat, the shaft of the damn arrow still skewering his left shoulder. “Who are you? Who sent you? Was it that necrophiliac?”

      The lack of oxygen to his brain as the large hands constricted his airway must be impairing his understanding. That couldn’t have been what the revenant said.

      Lucien’s vision was going gray.

      “Leo! What the hell are you doing?” Theia’s voice rang out as a car door slammed, and she was running toward them. “What’s going on?”

      But it was Theia’s twin, not Theia herself—which made a lot more sense, Lucien realized before he lost consciousness.

       Chapter 7

      Rhea’s message was baffling.

      That guy you pretend you don’t want just went rogue. Get over here. NOW.

      Theia tried calling, but it went straight to voice mail, and her texts weren’t being read. That was unnerving. What was going on? She hopped into her car and drove straight to Rafe’s place, rattled enough to speed. Normally, according to Rhea, she drove like a granny.

      A car Theia didn’t recognize was parked out front, so she had to park farther down the drive. As she approached the house, she tripped over what looked like a quiver of high-tech arrows among scattered gravel and broken cactus littering the normally immaculate walkway. Theia dashed to the door and burst in without knocking after seeing shattered glass around the front windowpane.

      “Rhea? Are you okay? Are you here?” She hadn’t had any visions about Rhea being in danger, but her Spidey-sense was triggered like crazy.

      “In here.”

      Theia breathed a bit easier at the sound of Rhea’s voice. She hurried toward it and found her sister and Leo in the kitchen—with Lucien Smok tied to a chair. He looked like an angry bull had trampled him. Lucien glanced up at Theia out of one eye, the other swollen shut, and quickly looked down.

      Leaning against the counter with his arms folded, Leo had a bandage around his shoulder and blood soaking his white T-shirt. And there were bruises on his knuckles.

      Theia found her voice after a moment of what was becoming a familiar sense of breathlessness, except this was breathlessness of disbelief. “Lucien? What in the world is going on? What happened to you? What are you doing here?”

      “That’s what we’ve been asking him, but he won’t talk.” Rhea kicked at the leg of Lucien’s chair. “He shot Leo with a goddamn arrow.” She indicated Rafe’s large oak table with her gaze. A crossbow with a high-powered scope attachment lay on it.

      Theia rubbed her forehead. “Lucien?”

      He didn’t glance up, but he finally spoke. “I’ll talk to Theia. But not with him in the room.”

      Leo made an angry noise that sounded like a wolf growling, but Rhea took his hand. “Come on. Maybe she can get something out of him.” Reluctantly, he went with her, and Theia closed the kitchen door.

      She took a breath and turned around to find Lucien staring at her, his one open eye bloodshot and defiant. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Did you really attack Leo with a...” She glanced at the table. “A crossbow?”

      Lucien’s voice was calm and measured. “Your sister is living with a man who ought to have died a millennium ago.”

      Theia crossed her arms. “I’m aware of that.”

      “You’re aware.”

      “How is this any of your business?”

      “Because that’s my business.

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