He opened the yellow door and breathed in the subtly perfumed air. A sheer blouse on a nearby rack caught his eye, and he trailed his fingers along the fabric.
 
 “Welcome to Juane, I’m Pamala,” said a tall, immaculately put-together woman. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”
 
 Onyx glanced around the shop. If anyone else was here, they must be in the changing rooms.
 
 “I may have been passed out the last time we were in the same alley, but don’t you remember me?”
 
 Pamala’s eyes widened, her composure otherwise intact. “You’re looking much better. For what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
 
 Onyx snorted. “Relax. I’m not here to bother you.”
 
 “Are you here to shop?” she asked hopefully.
 
 “Not exactly.”
 
 Another worker appeared at the counter in the back, along with a customer.
 
 Onyx grabbed the blouse. “But why don’t you help me style this, and we can chat along the way?”
 
 “Good idea. My boss is human,” Pamala whispered, taking the top and leading Onyx to a rack of pants and skirts. “Do you have a preference?”
 
 Onyx cocked his head. It had been a while since he’d played around with his clothes. For all he liked dressing up, his day-to-day wardrobe had gotten monotonous with all his designer shirts and jeans.
 
 “How about a pair of shorts?”
 
 “Good call.” Pamala led him to another display. “Is Dante going to ask me to leave the city?”
 
 Onyx cringed at the pain in her voice. “No.” He shook his head at the first pair of shorts Pamala presented. “I’ve got ones in that color already. Dante didn’t send me here. At least not about Ollie.”
 
 “But Dante knows I’m seeing Ellie?”
 
 “Not really Dante’s business, but it sounds like Ellie’s been keeping everyone at work updated.”
 
 “Yes, she wants me to go out for drinks with them. But if Ollie’s there…” Pamala gave her head a tiny shake. “Anyway. Why are you here?” She selected a pair of tiny leather shorts and held them out.
 
 Onyx took them. They were perfect. The only leather shorts he owned had a zip down the ass. Not exactly the kind of thing he wore to the gallery.
 
 “We wanted to ask if you’ve heard much from the other demons in town. Are you in touch with anyone?”
 
 Pamala’s expression tightened. “Lillian and Maxwell share a house with me. But that’s not what you’re asking, is it?” Sheglanced over her shoulder. “Would you like to look at shoes or accessories?”
 
 “Sure.” He handed the shorts to Pamala and followed her farther from the woman at the register.
 
 “Maxwell ran into a few demons one night and asked me to meet them at a bar,” Pamala whispered as she sorted through necklaces. “They were going on about the Hounds and Lucifer. I said you didn’t support Lucifer, and Maxwell backed me up. They asked how we knew, but I had a bad feeling, so I didn’t say we’d spoken to you. Max kept quiet too, for once.”
 
 She offered two necklaces, and Onyx selected the silver choker.
 
 “One of the demons—his name might have been Ambrose, but don’t quote me on that—went on about his friend who believed the Hounds and Lucifer should all die for imprisoning us. I argued with them, but they didn’t seem serious, more big-headed than anything, talking about some sort of bounty. But how would they have set that up? Discussing permanent death in a bar with relative strangers couldn’t be anything more than spouting off.”
 
 Onyx’s heart sank, dropping into a pit that seemed to have no bottom. “Maybe freedom emboldened them.”
 
 Pamala looked at him more closely, frozen for a second. “You think they were serious?”
 
 “It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like this.”
 
 Maybe Luc was telling the truth. Onyx could have burned the boutique to the ground. The only thing worse than falling for one of Luc’s lies was finding out he was telling the truth and being tempted to believe everything else.
 
 And what? These demons meant to permanently kill all four of them? He and his brothers were slated to die because they’d stood at Luc’s side several millennia ago? It was out of hand.