Lucifer's Beginning by Lisa Renee Jones

Author:Lisa Renee Jones [Jones, Lisa Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julie Patra Publishing
Published: 2022-02-19T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOUR

Lucifer

By the time I’m doing a safety check on the jet, I’ll be flying to Colorado, I’ve heard nothing good. Ana hasn’t called me back. Blake can’t find anything worth knowing on the dark web. Our boots on the ground in Colorado can’t get eyes on Ana. They’ve even gone so far as to confirm she’s not at the FBI offices. By the time we’re wheels off the tarmac, Blake is trying to use her cellphone to ping her location, and I’ve left her partner, “Darius the Dickhead,” a message, telling him she’s in danger, which means he could be, too. In other words, my progress on saving Ana sucks.

Worse, the damn plane doesn’t have internet.

I spend three hours in that plane, that should have been two, after a shit ton of turbulence forces me to take a detour from hell before we finally touch down in Centennial, Colorado, just outside Denver. My cell rings almost instantly, and while I’m looking for a call from Ana, or even Darius, it’s Blake. “Yeah, man,” I answer.

“Her phone’s not pinging. I’m guessing it’s off. I’m going through the security footage to try and figure out when she was last at her office and how she left to put the traffic cameras to use. More soon.”

We disconnect, then I dial Darius, who once again doesn’t answer my call, which could be because he’s undercover, or it could simply be the fact that he hates me almost as much as Ana does. I can’t get off this damn plane fast enough. “How are we riding out of here?” I ask Adam, who’s still sitting shotgun.

“Riding dirty in a basic black sedan, man. Luke arranged it. We’re set.”

Fuck yes, I think. “Let’s roll then.”

A few minutes later, I’m finally in the backseat of the car with Savage at the wheel and Adam riding shotgun—only we’re not moving. We’re wasting valuable time, sitting on the tarmac with Savage waiting on me to tell him where to go. I punch in Darius’ number again, and thank fuck, he picks up. “I’m not getting in between you and Ana. That ship has sailed.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s not my partner anymore. And I don’t know where she is. I’m telling you, man—”

In other words, he knows. “Call her. Tell her—”

“No,” he says. “Fuck no. I’m not getting involved. Let me drink my beer and eat my pizza. I only answered to say no.” He hangs up.

I curse and ball my fist. “Idiot,” I murmur, thinking he too could be on the hitlist, and Ana will never forgive me if he ends up dead. I text him: Listen to the message I left you, dickhead, before I tap Savage’s seat and say, “Drive,” praying I’m not too late to save Ana. And her dipshit partner, who claims to be her ex-partner.

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