his early forties. Certainly not old enough to have an adult son as old as Finn appeared to be. Not that Finn looked old. He wasn’t a vain guy, but he knew he looked good, roughly thirty-five years old.
“Yeah, killing demons gets old after about, oh, five hundred years, give or take.”
“Is that so?” From the tone of Lucifer’s voice, it was clear he didn’t give a damn. “Well, I have another job for you.”
Finn scowled. As usual, his father ignored Finn’s objections and plowed ahead with his own agenda. “And if I say no?”
Lucifer’s mouth twisted. “Let us tell you about it first before you turn it down, all right?” He pressed a button on his desk and Finn heard the elevator start up.
“Who’s us?” Finn twisted around as the elevator doors pinged open. He frowned at the vampire who stepped into the foyer.
“Tobias, come in,” Lucifer said, getting to his feet. The two men shook hands and the vampire took the chair next to Finn.
“What’s this all about?” Finn asked as Lucifer sat back down.
A former liaison to the Council of Preternaturals, Tobias Caine had just been appointed to the council as their newest member. The council, made up of thirteen members of the various pret clans, governed the preternatural community. Every preternatural—vampire, shapeshifter, and fey—had representation. Only demons, by choice, did not participate in council governance. They had a strong abhorrence of anyone telling them what they could and could not do, especially when nondemons were the ones setting the rules.
Tobias shifted in his seat to look at Finn. “We’re looking at statistics taken over the years to determine the breakdown of preternaturals who come through the rift opened by the Moore-Creasy-Devon comet,” Caine said. “It’s apparent that of all the pret clans, demons have the smallest representation.”
“So?” Finn frowned. “There have always been fewer of us than other prets. We can hold our own.”
“For how long?” Lucifer leaned his elbows on the desk. “Every seventy-three years, when the comet opens the rift between dimensions, there are fewer demons that come through than any other preternatural. Century after century this occurs. In a few hundred years we could very well be an endangered species.”
“Then demons should have more babies.” Finn wasn’t sure what the fuss was all about. People became preternaturals by traveling through the rift and taking over bodies of human hosts. But all of them could procreate the good, old-fashioned way as well. “That’s how I got here, after all.”
“Demon women would have to be perpetually pregnant to make any headway at all,” Caine said dryly.
“And the problem with that is…” Finn grinned at the annoyed looks on the other men’s faces. “I’m kidding.”
“Despite your ill-timed humor, this is a serious problem.” His father shot him a scowl. “The only way preternaturals keep the community somewhat at peace is because there is a balance between all groups. As soon as one group becomes more powerful than the others, there will be a fight for control.”
“I’ve never been much of a big picture kind of guy,” Finn said. “You might need to explain why you’re acting like this is my problem.”
“Because it’s my problem. Therefore, it’s yours, too.”
Finn blew out a sigh. Since this wasn’t something that involved another demon directly, Finn’s skills as an enforcer weren’t being called upon. Which meant he could refuse the assignment. “Sorry,” he said, not meaning a bit of it. He pushed to his feet. “Whatever it is you’re asking me to do, I’ll pass.” He wanted to get away from doing his father’s bidding, not do more of it.
“You can’t refuse to help, Finn.” Lucifer crossed his arms and glowered at his son.
“Are you asking me to hunt down a demon who’s been attacking humans or other prets?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then I believe I can refuse.” He cocked a brow. “And I do.”
“I realize you’ve never looked out for anyone but yourself, and you do a hell of a job at it. Can’t you look past your own needs just this once?” Caine asked.
“You’re such a sweet talker,” Finn muttered. “You’re really making me want to help.” Finn thought a moment. “I have one question: What’s in it for me?”
Caine’s scowl mirrored Lucifer’s. He muttered a curse. “Cut the crap, Finn. You’re not as much of a loner as you make out. Listen to your conscience.” He pressed his lips together. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll give you half a mill to do it.”