Devil in the Details Read online

  

  Maple Grove 17

  Devil in the Details

  [Siren Publishing: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection: Contemporary, Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifters, Fantasy, MM, HEA]

  Abel’s life has turned upside down when he discovers he has a stalker. The person leaves flowers at his door, notes on his car, and he even snapped a picture of Abel and slid it under his door. When a stranger approaches him at work and offers his help, Abel is wary, but accepts. He just didn’t know what he was getting into when he made a deal with a demon.

  When Caine accidently touches a chameleon shifter, his worst nightmare comes to life. Bowen transforms into an exact replica of Caine, and vows to destroy Caine’s life. While tracking Bowen down, Caine ends up in Maple Grove and runs into a feisty little human. Demons don’t know who their mate is until they sleep with them, and Abel is on his menu. But can he keep his mate safe while the fake Caine racks up enemies who are determined to track the real Caine down and get their revenge?

  Length: 30,000 words

  DEVIL IN THE DETAILS

  Maple Grove 17

  Lynn Hagen

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  Devil in the Details

  Copyright © 2020 by Lynn Hagen

  ISBN: 978-1-64637-080-1

  First Publication: February 2020

  Cover design by Emma Nicole

  All art and logo copyright © 2020 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart.

  You can find her on any given day curled up with her laptop and a cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their story.

  For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/lynn-hagen

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DEVIL IN THE DETAILS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  DEVIL IN THE DETAILS

  Maple Grove 17

  LYNN HAGEN

  Copyright © 2020

  Chapter One

  “Caine.”

  Caine was already on edge, and the last thing he needed was for Bowen to fuck with him. Bowen was a greasy bastard who slithered around, trying to make backroom deals that he always reneged on. Nobody liked dealing with him, but if there was one thing Caine could say about him, the chameleon shifter could get a person what they needed.

  At a ridiculous price.

  That was probably why Bowen was still alive.

  “What do you want?” Caine wished the bartender would turn down the god-awful music. He had a pounding headache, and it was getting worse. The lights were too bright, and the uncontained noise from the rowdy customers made him want to kill them all.

  Caine was currently in Remtin, though this wasn’t a place he needed to be. Not in the current mood he was in.

  Bowen sat on the barstool, though Caine had never invited him to have a seat next to him. Bowen could slither to another stool or a table.

  “Word on the street says you’re a wanted man. Steep price on your head.”

  That was the first Caine had heard of it. “There’re always rumors. What makes you think this one’s legit?”

  Bowen reached into his pocket. Caine grabbed the shirtsleeve of his wrist, making sure not to touch the guy’s skin, and gave Bowen a look that said Caine would gut him right there at the counter.

  “Just getting a piece of paper,” Bowen said in a smooth, low voice. It kind of reminded Caine of the gangsters from the thirties. “Ain’t dumb enough to try anything wit’ you.”

  Bowen was lucky Caine hadn’t killed him yet. He still wasn’t sure why he hadn’t.

  “Got proof right here.” Bowen pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was wrinkled like the shifter had folded and refolded it a hundred times. He set it on the counter. “Go ahead. Take a look.”

  Caine’s senses were itching like a bad rash. The feeling brought to mind the first time he’d laid eyes on Bowen. It was back in the era that he reminded Caine of. Back then, Bowen was no more than the mob’s lackey. He hadn’t grown much in character.

  The guy had bone-white hair that hung too long, shifty blue eyes, and a pale complexion. Most assumed Bowen was a ghost. The thing about chameleon shifters was no one knew their true face. All chameleons had to do was touch a person and they could change into them.

  Caine wondered who Bowen had touched last to look the way he did. It didn’t matter what form the shifter took, Caine always knew it was him.

  Wary, he took the paper and opened it then tossed it aside. “Garbage.”

  Though it wasn’t. It was a legitimate bounty. Caine knew by the raised seal at the bottom. The demon warriors had a bone of contention to pick with him, wanted to shove Caine back into Hell.

  He wasn’t going to let that happen.

  “Not garbage.” Bowen squinted from the force of his grin. “You saw the seal, Caine. Them warriors are hard-pressed for you. Just thought I’d give you a heads-up.”

  “Bullshit.” Caine tossed back the remaining Red Spanking in his tumbler and stood, throwing a few bucks next to the glass. “You’ve already sold me out.”

  Bowen sneered, and then a bark of laughter squeezed from his chest. He grabbed the paper and tucked it back into his pocket as a card game behind them started to get out of control. “Why would I do that to a high-ranking demon? I just thought you should know.”

  “I find out you had a hand in this, I’m coming back for you,” Caine threatened. “Stop being a snake oil salesman, Bowen. You’re gonna wind up with your guts on show.”

  Bowen’s white brows dipped close, and his lips pursed. “I don’t sell no snake oil.”

  The guy didn’t get it, and it took some of the meaning out when you had to explain it. “A seedy piece of shit who profits off of exploiting someone.”

  Bowen squinted, but not from a smile this time. He was thoroughly confused, and Caine wasn’t gonna go into further explanation.

  Caine looked at the men at the table paying cards. Things were about to get dicey in the joint. Not that he cared, but he did notice a guy toward the back studying him a little too hard.

  It was time to go.

  He was out the door and heading down the street but felt someone following him, heard echoing footsteps in the dark. Caine popped the collar of his jacket and shoved his hands into his pockets.

  Ordinary demons couldn’t fade in the sunlight. Mid-level demons had no choi
ce. Caine, on the other hand, could do it at will. So could the demon warriors. Even in the dark. He thought about fading until the person following him lost him, but Caine was in a foul mood and wouldn’t mind taking it out on someone.

  Fucking demon warriors. Why couldn’t they leave him alone? Caine didn’t go around causing chaos like most men the warriors hunted down. Caine kept to the shadows, hired himself out as a bodyguard or an enforcer.

  What he did for a living was legit, though sometimes his actions were questionable. If the warriors only knew his dirty little secret. Would they back off then?

  Probably not.

  But all demons were born with a certain power. Caine was no exception. He waited until he came to an alley then slipped into it, keeping to the shadows.

  When the person trailing behind passed by, Caine grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall, curling his hand around the person’s neck.

  Caine frowned. The white hair registered and then the blue eyes. “Bowen?”

  “Do you mind?”

  Caine released him and took a step back. “Why the fuck were you following me?”

  Bowen licked his lips and backed away. “I just needed you to touch me.”

  The alcohol had dulled Caine’s senses. It took longer than it should have for the ramifications of what he’d just done to sink in. “You bastard!”

  Right before his eyes Bowen transformed into a copycat Caine.

  Fuck. The destruction Bowen could cause while he was an exact replica of him. In all the time they’d known each other, Caine had been very careful never to make skin-to-skin contact.

  “Why?”

  Bowen’s hands flexed and convulsed at his sides. “It’s about time I get the respect I’m due. People will tremble in fear of my name by the time they find out who I really am.”

  The guy had no idea just how many enemies Caine had, of the hatred most held for him. He said as much.

  “Liar!” Bowen screamed with a scowl.

  It was the creepiest thing ever to argue with yourself, to look into your own face while trying to convince the replica of how much danger he was truly in.

  And damn, Caine wasn’t half-bad looking.

  “The demon warriors,” Caine reminded Bowen. “They get their hands on you and…” Wait. That was actually an upside. The warriors could send Bowen to Hell instead of Caine.

  Still, the shifter could cause a lot of damage before then. Caine had a reputation to protect as far as his business. He couldn’t let Bowen accept contracts. That had disaster written all over it.

  “Toodle-loo.” Bowen spun and took off, Caine giving chase. Bowen might have his looks, but he didn’t have Caine’s powers. If he could catch up to Bowen, Caine could right this wrong.

  But the shifter was fast, dodging around buildings and disappearing around a corner.

  Caine stopped and looked around, but the bastard was gone. He cursed as he looked up and down the street. Bowen had to be stopped.

  Caine closed his eyes and concentrated. What the shifter didn’t know was now that Caine had touched him he could track him, though the connection was weak. The faint signal kept flickering in and out, making it hard to latch onto.

  He returned to the alley, finding the darkest corner to transport himself. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the parking lot of a gas station.

  He recognized the sign above the door, the color scheme of horrendous orange and tacky blue. Caine looked around at the empty parking lot, the tall safety lights attracting millions of bugs.

  A car pulled into one of the pumps as Caine stood there, trying to latch onto Bowen’s whereabouts, but he’d lost the connection.

  If Bowen was somewhere else, why had Caine emerged here? He was supposed to come out of the portal at Bowen’s location.

  A door slammed. Caine looked behind him at the car that had pulled up. It was driving away. Grinding his teeth, he went inside the gas station.

  Why couldn’t he escape god-awful music? The piped-in music was playing some upbeat instrumental melody that made Caine want to rip the speakers out. He walked toward the cooler then stopped. He wasn’t thirsty or hungry.

  He was on a mission to track Bowen down. Caine glanced at the counter, but no one was there. The place was empty, brightly lit, and clean.

  A noise the next aisle over caught his attention. Caine fisted his hands as he marched toward the source. He came to a stop when he saw some guy kneeling in front of the shelf with a duster.

  The guy looked up and squeaked, falling to his ass. He pressed a hand over his chest, his eyes wide. “I’m sorry. You scared the daylights out of me.”

  A strange sensation rippled through Caine. He cocked his head to the side, studying the guy. The nametag on his shirt said his name was Abel.

  Abel got up and straightened his blue work vest. He brushed a hand through his dark hair. A brilliant smile replaced his frown. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Caine tamped down the attraction he felt toward Abel. “Have you seen me?”

  The guy gave a nervous chuckle. “Uh yeah, you’re standing right there.”

  “No.” Caine shook his head, his frustration mounting. “Was I in here before now?”

  Abel’s green eyes cast a wary glow. “I…I’m not the only one working here tonight. There’s another employee. He’s just on break.”

  The fear was evident in Abel’s voice. The guy was also lying. Caine didn’t sense anyone else in the store.

  Abel took a step back. He waved his pink feather duster at the counter. “I’ll be over there if you need me.”

  “Where am I?” He had his suspicions, but Caine wanted to be sure.

  “Earth?”

  He wanted to snarl but found the guy amusing. “What town?”

  “Maple Grove.” Abel kept walking backward, never taking his eyes off Caine. The short guy had nothing to worry about. Caine didn’t attack innocent people. This guy had done nothing wrong to him, so he was safe.

  The bell over the door jingled. Abel looked left. He cleared his throat and gave Caine a forced smile. “I have to help another customer.”

  Caine let Abel go. He needed to get his bearings, and hopefully he could pick up the broken connection to Bowen. He’d just left Maple Grove not too long ago. Caine had worked an assignment here, protecting a firefighter and his mate.

  His attention was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed the newcomer. The guy wore a thick pullover, the hood over his head. His gaze kept flickering to Abel, who was now behind the counter.

  An uneasy feeling settled in Caine’s gut. He moved closer to the worker, keeping his eye on the hooded man as the stranger walked to the counter.

  “Hand over the cash in the register and safe.” The hooded hooligan pulled out a gun and waved it at Abel. “Don’t be a hero. It isn’t your money.”

  Abel paled, taking a step back. “I-I don’t have access to the safe.”

  The guy spun and aimed his gun at Caine. “Get into my line of sight. You don’t try and be a hero, either.”

  A tic jumped right under Caine’s right eye as he curled his lips and looked the robber up and down. A flush of warmth spread through his body. “I’ll give you one chance, and one chance only, to get the fuck out of here.”

  The stranger was nervous. His gaze, and gun, shifted to Abel before he swung it back toward Caine, as if trying to decide who the bigger threat was.

  “Give me the goddamn money!”

  Abel started pressing buttons on the register, giving Caine a look that said don’t do anything stupid.

  Caine lifted his right hand and blew across his palm. Wispy, dark smoke appeared, drifting toward the gunman like cigarette smoke was being gently blown into his face. The guy’s jaw went slack and his eyes turned empty as the smoke circled around his head.

  His mind was now a total blank. Caine could kill the bastard, and the gunman wouldn’t lift a finger to stop him. Instead, Caine moved forward until they were a foot ap
art.

  The stranger didn’t look any older than sixteen, maybe seventeen. Caine might be a rotten son of a bitch with a bad temper, soulless, and vengeful, but he didn’t hurt kids or anyone who didn’t deserve his wrath.

  His did have morals, although not many.

  “You’re going to go to the police station and turn yourself in. You’re never going to rob someone again.”

  “Never again,” the kid repeated.

  “You are going to work hard at making a better life for yourself, get a job, and cease being a fucktard.”

  “No more fucktard.”

  “Now go.” Caine watched as the teenager tucked the gun into his waistband and walked out. The effects would wear off soon, but the impulse to follow Caine’s commands would forever be with him.

  Caine looked toward the counter. Abel blinked rapidly, his jaw still slack. “I didn’t see anything,” he quickly said. “Nothing at all, mister. Please don’t turn me into a mindless zombie.”

  Caine rolled his tongue on the inside of his bottom lip. Normally he wouldn’t leave any witnesses behind, but there was something about Abel.

  He walked to the counter and pulled out a business card, setting it down. “Call me if you ever need someone to save you.” He thought about it. “Or if you want someone to talk to.”

  He’d never said that to anyone before, not without the intention of charging them a handsome fee for his services.

  Abel glanced at the card. The only thing on it was Caine’s name and his phone number. He nodded.

  “Have a good night.” Caine walked out, ready to get back to hunting Bowen down. But as he walked away, he couldn’t stop himself from looking back, staring at Abel through the large pane of glass.

  Abel was watching him, too, the card gripped between his fingers.

  * * * *

  Abel had no idea if Caine had gotten his message. He stood outside the gay bar, Pump, pacing. The place was packed, and Abel didn’t think his stalker would try anything with so many people around, but he was too afraid to drive home by himself.