Nodding, I unlocked the door. It creaked as it swung wide. Total carnage swept through the silent apartment, and a strangled gasp of shock popped from my throat. I stumbled inside, gazing around at the destroyed apartment. Remnants of the sofa were scattered across the floor. The cotton tufts fallen like soldiers on a battlefield. Broken dishes from the kitchen joined them, and lemon-scented body wash bottles rolled out from the open bathroom door.

I stepped back and into Az’s firm, unyielding chest. His heartbeat pounded against me. “Az…”

“It’s alright,” he murmured, squeezing my shoulder with his warm hand. “Serena wasn’t here when this happened.”

No. Because she’d already been taken.

“But what does this mean?” Tears filled my eyes. The reality of the danger we faced flooded in hot and fast like a river of molten lava. Az and his Legion were Princes of Hell, but they hadn’t been able to stop this from happening. Serena had been taken, and if Noah had been here when the killer had arrived…

“It was him, wasn’t it?” I asked in a small voice. “Whoever took Serena came and destroyed her apartment.”

“Most likely, yes.” His voice was hard and edged in steel.

“But why?” I whirled to face him, searching his eyes for answers he didn’t have. “What’s the point of this?”

He shook his head and gazed around at the ransacked apartment. “Honestly, Mia, I have no idea. He was clearly looking for something. Maybe he thought you’d left something here?”

My heart skipped a beat. “Like what?”

“Something that smells like you,” he murmured, jaw clenching. “If he knows your scent, he can find you more easily.”

Ice slid down my spine. “That’s horrifying.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t let him get you,” he said. “But I think we might need to pay Serena’s boyfriend a visit at his cafe. See if he went into work today. See if he’s…alive.”

All the blood drained from my face. “You think he might have been here when the killer broke in.”

He glanced around again. “Perhaps.”

And if that was the case, then Noah might be dead.

We left Serena’s apartment as it was. There was little we could do there now, and if the cops got involved, we didn’t want to leave any evidence behind that we were there. Next stop: Funky Froth. The place was as lively as ever. A line of coffee addicts stretched down the entire block. We cut past them—much to their shouted dismay—and flagged down one of the harried baristas, neither of whom were Noah.

“Is Noah in today?” Az asked in an easy voice that betrayed none of the tension I knew we both felt.