Free Dark Forsaken (The Devil's Assistant Book 3) by H.D. Smith Page A

because the network was monitored.
    She was wearing a similar outfit to the one she’d worn the day I met her, a somewhat threadbare t-shirt and jeans. She needed new things and a safe, more permanent place to stay. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, which almost hid the fact that it looked a bit like cotton candy. It gave her an older look and screamed “Don’t fuck with me”, which I sensed was her current mood.
    Since, apparently, no one was coming to the office and I was ready to leave, I went to the waiting room to tell Sorrel and Sydney to pack up, but Sorrel wasn’t in the office. “Where’s Sorrel?”
    Sydney looked to the lower right on the monitor, as if checking the time. “He left about an hour and a half ago. Why?”
    “He’s not supposed to leave me alone.”
    “What, he can’t take a break?” she asked sarcastically.
    “These aren’t my rules. I couldn’t care less what he does with his time, but he always follows his father’s rules. Did something happen before he left?”
    She shrugged. “He might have been texting. I’m not sure. I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry.”
    I called his cell, but there was no answer. I dialed Cinnamon next. I’d planned to call her anyway to check on Sage, and she might know why Sorrel wasn’t answering his phone.
    “Yes, my queen, what do you need?” Cinnamon answered. This was her usual tone, which she knew annoyed me.
    “I’m calling to make sure Sage is still behaving himself and to ask if you know where Sorrel is.”
    “I’m right here,” Sorrel said from the doorway to the office suite.
    “Good, you found him,” Cinnamon mused, obviously hearing him through the phone. “I must go now, my queen,” Cinnamon said before hanging up.
    I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it. Had she just hung up on me? Blowing out an exasperated breath, I slipped my phone in my pocket and turned to Sorrel. “Where have you been?”
    “Out. Why?”
    It seemed like everyone was in a mood, and I didn’t want to deal with Sorrel’s bullshit today. “Let’s go. This place is dead and I’m ready to leave.”
    “Whatever.” Sorrel shrugged.
    “Have you heard from Sage?” I asked, realizing I hadn’t gotten an update from Cinnamon.
    Sorrel narrowed his eyes as if I was about to start an inquisition. “No, why?”
    “I was just curious. What’s crawled up your butt?”
    He raised his left eyebrow, channeling Sage with that look, then turned and left without comment.
    Oh, good, he was going to be such fun.
    “Let’s go, Sydney.”
    We—and by we, I mean Sorrel—decided that we would have lunch in Underworld. Considering all the craziness that was going on down there, I voiced my concern. Unfortunately, he was in no mood to hear my complaints. At first, I assumed he was using the excuse of lunch in Underworld to take me back to see Gizelle, but we weren’t headed toward the blacksmith’s shop.
    I was really confused when he pulled up outside Peace-a-Pie, a new-age pizza joint. I almost expected to smell patchouli when we walked in, but the place was clean and smoke-free, and too new for my liking. Had Mace told him we needed to check this place out? Why else would we get pizza for lunch when we’d just had pizza the night before?
    I was about to ask Sorrel why he chose this place when the hostess, dressed in her sixties-era tie-dye skirt and Birkenstocks, beckoned us to follow. She led us to a room in the back away from the other diners, which was okay with me. Sydney tugged at my sleeve as the hostess placed the menus on the table and motioned for us to sit.
    “Mr. X owns this place, too,” she whispered. “Why are we here?”
    I was sure Mace must have told Sorrel about this place, but I couldn’t figure out why Sorrel wouldn’t tell me that. Why did he bring us here with no warning? I waited for the hostess to leave before asking Sorrel, “Did Mace tell you about this place?”
    He shook his head, adding absently,