Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy) by Celia Kyle, Lauren Creed Page B

word. “You’re not at liberty ? And what, exactly, does that mean?”
    “Confidentiality.” He spread his hands apologetically, but I saw the joy in his eyes. “There are certain issues I can assist you with, and others I cannot discuss. This is one of the latter.”
    Rage burned. It bubbled in my veins, pumping to the beat of my heart and a single tendril of smoke rose from the handle of my bat.
    I wasn’t going to blow up the building. I wasn’t. I spoke through gritted teeth. “Then what the fuck are you at liberty to discuss? Because so far, I’ve gotten jack all from your ass.”
    “I’m at your disposal for any matters that would normally fall under your uncle’s purview.”
    I licked my lips and tilted my head to the side, giving the lawyer a narrow-eyed stare. I rolled his words around in my head, dissecting them and trying to discover Killian’s real message. My uncle was a frustrating man at the best of times, so it wasn’t easy to figure out what I could get out of the attorney.
    Perhaps I’d stormed out of our last meeting too soon. As frustrated as I’d been with Killian, he was probably operating under a certain set of restrictions. Lucifer was all about fine print and carefully worded contracts.
    Contracts signed in blood.
    Hypothetically, Killian could even want to help me, but be unable due to his Hellborne agreement. Something that restricted what he could say or do. Which was totally Uncle Luc’s style. Then there was the other angle; it could be one of Killian’s other clients and he couldn’t exactly reveal that information either. Yet Uncle Luc had sent me Killian Howe for a reason.
    “So, you can help me.”
    Killian nodded, smirk back in place.
    “And my answers are only as good as my questions.”
    “Correct.” He leaned back in his chair, hands steepled, and studied me with his cold, dark eyes. I had a hard time holding his gaze when his eyes went all black. Too much… nothingness there.
    “But you won’t tell me what to ask.”
    “Not within my purview.”
    I was gonna take his purview and shove it up his ass. The only thing that stopped me was the sympathetic look in his eyes. Or that was my imagination. Beings from Hell didn’t have much in the sympathy department.
    Neither did lawyers.
    I flopped into a nearby seat, the antique chair groaning beneath my rough treatment, and Killian flinched. Yeah, whatever. I ignored that and focused on playing twenty questions with the devil’s advocate. I didn’t see that I had much choice in the matter.
    “We’ll start with Captain Obvious. Who’s behind the dem drug?”
    “Who has the most to gain from its distribution?”
    I leaned forward. “How should I know?”
    He shrugged. I hadn’t asked the right question.
    “Fine,” I sighed and leaned back, picking up the bat once more, balancing it on my fingertip. Some people paced when they had to think. I toyed with weapons. “It’s a dem. Someone from Hell trying to make a move on the tween. Not a weakling from the outer circles, though. They’re pushovers and idiots.” Killian didn’t contradict me, so he had to agree. “To develop something that affected so many and then distribute it under my nose.” I flicked my fingers, making the bat spin on the tip. “Whoever it is has power.”
    Killian didn’t say a word, but there was a flicker in his eyes, something other than unending darkness. I took his silence as confirmation that I was headed in the right direction.
    “Who has enough power to pull this off?” I quirked a brow.
    “That depends,” he mimicked my expression, “on how much power it would take.”
    As soon as this mess was finished, I was gonna shove my bat up his ass.
    “As a note, just because the famous mouse now owns Yoda’s ass doesn’t mean you have to give me your best impression.”
    He smiled, probably taking my frustration as a compliment.
    Demons. Twisted fuckers.
    But he had given me something I could work with. “Who has enough