Heart of the Demon - By Cynthia Garner Page 0,1

tyranny. Until then, though…With a scowl he started the motorcycle and pulled away from the curb. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

He headed his bike down Scottsdale Road. The fronds on the tall palm trees lining the street swayed in the breeze. The sun beat down on him and reflected off the pavement in shimmering waves. His shirt began to stick to his perspiring skin. Luckily the wind he stirred up by riding his bike cooled him off a little.

Finn made a turn onto the road that would take him to the office building where the leader of demons in this region conducted his many businesses, legitimate and otherwise. Lucifer was crafty enough not to get caught by the authorities. Finn had a lot to do with that as his father’s enforcer. When a demon stepped too far out of line—and Lucifer was actually pretty lenient—Finn was the one sent to dispense justice. Which wasn’t always quick, or painless.

Or neat for that matter.

But he got the job done because somehow in all the mess that was the preternatural community, being the son of the devil evidently meant he’d been born into indentured servitude. Not that most prets knew of his blood relationship to Lucifer. There were rumors, but very few knew anything concrete, which was the way Finn liked it. The less people knew about him the better. A man’s private life should be just that. Private.

He stopped at a traffic light and glanced at the car that pulled to a halt in the next lane. Flirty smiles on their faces, two of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen looked at him with invitation in their eyes. Despite their beauty, he didn’t get even a single twitch of interest from his body. He blew out a sigh and looked at the light. When a demon could look at two succubi and feel nothing, something was wrong. Really, really wrong.

What, exactly, he didn’t know. It could be a bad case of the blues, he supposed, though he didn’t feel particularly depressed. Maybe he was tired. He had been working a heavy schedule lately. The upcoming rift had everyone, prets and humans alike, on edge. And demons seemed to be cornering the market on orneriness.

The light switched to green and he took off, nearly burning a swath of rubber in his hurry to get away from nontemptation. When Finn reached his father’s office building he drove up onto the sidewalk and brought his bike to a stop by the front door. He heeled down the kickstand and swung his leg over the seat. As he went through the automatic doors he tipped his head at the security guys at the front desk. “Fellas,” he greeted. The air-conditioning was a welcome relief from the stifling midday heat.

“You should move that before Lucifer sees it.” The guard gestured toward the motorcycle.

Finn merely grinned. Part of him recognized he was acting like a rebellious teenager, but he didn’t care. If Lucifer had a problem with him, he could tell him to get lost. Finn would happily do so. Hell, he’d been trying to encourage his father to release him from his duties for years with no luck.

He took the elevator to the top floor, getting off at the penthouse suite. He crossed the inlaid-wood foyer, his boots thumping over the expensive flooring, and went straight into his father’s no-less-than opulent office. “The master calleth?” he asked and flung himself down in one of the leather chairs across from Lucifer’s desk.

“I did.” Lucifer looked away from the bank of security monitors on the wall and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t think that parking your motorcycle in front of the building is enough to cause me to release you from your…obligations.”

“Obligations? Is that what my job is called?” Finn crossed his legs, resting one ankle on top of the opposite knee. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “How is it that by virtue of being your son I’m automatically at your beck and call forever?” He held his father’s dark gaze. “Seriously, I’ve been doing this for over a thousand years. You have other sons you can foist this job on. Go make one of them miserable for a while.”

“Miserable. Really?” Lucifer frowned, the action barely causing wrinkles to form. That was one of the quirky things about being a preternatural. Lucifer had been on Earth for over seven thousand years, yet he looked like he was in