A Demonic Bundle (13 page)
Authors: Lexi George Kathy Love,Angie Fox
The sight of Damien next to the suitcase reminded her of a time not too long ago when he’d stood in that same spot, gloriously naked. Hades. He looked almost as good with his clothes on. Almost.
Shiloh trailed her fingers down her gold dress. “I think it would help if we had sex.”
Damien about choked. “No.”
“Fine.” She pouted. “We’ll do it your way.”
She’d lead a demon slayer into the inner sanctum. She’d take down her boss. She’d find a way to save her friends. And come hell or high water, she’d find a way to free Damien too.
Chapter Four
H
e should have just slayed her and saved his sanity. Instead he’d nearly taken her. Again.
e should have just slayed her and saved his sanity. Instead he’d nearly taken her. Again.
Damien leaned his head against the back wall of the slowest moving elevator in Vegas.
“Do you want to wear my coat?” he asked.
She fiddled with the gold chain around her neck. “I’m already dressed.”
It didn’t count. Her gold dress clung to every curve. He remembered what those curves had felt like under him last night. And above him. And . . . he felt himself grow hard. Damnation.
The door dinged open in the lobby. “Come on,” he said as he launched himself off the wall. “We’ll get you a ride home,” he added, trying not to cringe.
So this was it. Damien, who had slayed countless minions of the devil was about to send a demon home in a taxi.
Heaven help him, it almost felt like a victory.
She tilted her head. “Do you realize that when you run your hand through your hair like that, it makes it stick up on end? You look like Matthew McConaughey.”
He led her through the lobby of the hotel. “I have no idea who that is,” he said, trying to focus on the clanging slot machines, the milling tourists, anything but her.
When they reached the cab stand outside, he relented. “I’ll call you when it’s time to go back in. In the mean-time—” he stared at her from her pink painted toes to her mane of unruly blond waves. She was a walking wet dream. “Act casual. Tempt the masses.”
She cocked her head. “You think that’s what I do?”
Truthfully, he had no idea. He fought back a wave of jealousy. She’d gotten under his skin easy enough.
He dug through his wallet for cab fare, cursing himself for his weakness. He didn’t want her seducing anyone else. He wanted her attention.
This was so screwed up.
At long last, he tucked her into an aquamarine Gossamer Cab and watched her drive away.
Shiloh did not look back.
It shouldn’t have bothered him, he told himself. She had her head on straight, at least for the moment.
He made his way to the elevator bank.
Damien was still stewing as he shoved his card into the door slot of his hotel room. He just had to work with this woman until he could take down her boss. Then he’d let her go.
Damien frowned as the hotel room door clicked closed behind him. He surveyed the room. Hell. The tousled sheets, the wedding pictures scattered across the room, the damned pink bear—it reminded him of her.
He’d box it all up. Or toss it in the bathtub. He should have just thrown it all away.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he called Father Riley. “The annulment’s off,” he barked into his cell phone while opening his silver suitcase.
His switch stars were laid out in neat rows, cushioned in foam core.
He could hear the old priest chuckling on the other line. “Who’s still married, son?”
Damien didn’t want to have this conversation. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
“I don’t know,” the priest said in that frustratingly even tone of his. “I’ve seen some strange things in my day.”
Time to change the subject. “My mission was a bust last night,” Damien said, double-checking his switch star holster. It held five stars. The rest, he’d have to take in a backpack and hope security didn’t search it. “I’m going back in.”
The Council would contact him. When another opportunity arose, he’d be ready.
“Did you let her go?” the priest asked.
“Who?”
“You know who.”
Damien gritted his teeth. Would it be rude to hang up on a priest? “I’ve got bigger problems.”
Like what to do about a certain half-demon. He’d trapped Shiloh. She had to help him.
Damien tugged his sweater down, remembering the way she’d run her fingers along his chest. He sighed and shoved the thought out of his mind. As long as she didn’t take him down, this might just work.
Shiloh sat at a patio table outside Starbucks and blasted a young hunk with a bolt of lust. He kept walking. She dug her elbows into the table, crunched her fists under her chin and willed him to turn around.
Look back. Feel me.
Look back. Feel me.
Nada.
She sighed, glancing at her cold cafe misto. It had been two days since her quickie wedding. She needed to stop torturing herself. Her powers were tied up with Damien’s. There was no getting them back, not until she gave the demon slayer what he wanted.
For all of her thousands of years on this earth, she wished she had an easier time with change. Frankly, she felt like a big scaredy cat most of the time. Dealing with full-blooded demons did that to a girl.
Now she was on call, waiting to meet up with Damien at The Seven Deadly Sins. They’d rendezvous in one of the theme rooms. She was rooting for Lust.
Never mind that Damien would still insist that he wanted her only for her access code. But she knew better. Shiloh had a few millennia’s experience with men. She saw how he responded to her. And she found that fascinating.
As if thinking could make wishes come true, her phone buzzed. She dug it out of her purse. “Damien?”
“Don’t use my name,” he said, his voice low and sexy.
Oh please. “But it is you. I knew it was you.” A niggle of unease touched her stomach. She didn’t know how she knew. Perhaps their powers were more entwined than she’d realized.
“We have another opportunity. Meet me at your work. I’ll request you.”
That last part warmed her heart. He’d ask for her.
She snapped the phone closed. Of course he’d ask for her, she chastised herself. He needed her to break into Napthulo’s inner sanctum. Still, it made her slightly breathless to know she’d see Damien soon.
Shiloh’s heels clicked as she made her way down a long hallway at the back of The Seven Deadly Sins Casino.
Now that she was here, her excitement had been replaced with something else—the dripping fear that she was about to end her life as she knew it. She pasted a smile on her face.
Breathe.
Walk.
Act casual.
She was so deep in thought that she jumped as she pushed through the human-repelling energy shield.
Zap.
The static electric shock zinged her to her toes and reminded her to stay focused. She might not be trained like Damien, but she could keep her wits about her. This wasn’t a game. Lives were at stake, namely hers, Fawzi’s, Rufus’s—even Damien’s. Although she doubted the demon slayer would admit it.
Rufus the hellhound danced and barked at her approach and she gave him an extra long hug. He used it as an opportunity to lick her silly. “I’ve got you, hound doggie,” she said, feeling the familiar comfort of his wiry fur against her skin.
She’d save him.
Shiloh gave the hellhound a final pat. He whined as she turned the corner toward the She-Demons assignment desk.
Jeebers the fairy raised his tiny little eyebrows at her as she approached. He adjusted his reading glasses. “Fine for you to show your face around here again.”
Shiloh waved him off. “I was sick,” she said, both of them knowing full well that succubi didn’t get sick. She gave him her best pouty look. “I think I’ll feel better if you put me back in Lust.”
It was a long shot, she knew. But perhaps the case of Fitz’s Root Beer had already arrived.
He scowled, dashing any hope of that. “I’m not putting you in Lust again. You ran off halfway through your shift.”
“The client wanted to get out and enjoy Vegas,” she said, pretending not to know she’d violated about twelve casino rules.
The fairy looked down his glasses at her. “And then I got drunk calls at four in the morning. Please tell me you didn’t actually set sail a hundred tiny paper pirate ships in the Venetian Grand Canal.”
Oh no. Shiloh’s stomach sank. “What else did you hear?” Her secret might already be out.
“Isn’t that enough?” the fairy snapped. He jabbed at the computer keyboard in front of him. “If it’s any consolation, you didn’t completely ruin your chances with our newest client. He’s requested you again, for whatever room you’re in.”
He said it as if he knew something.
Shiloh kept her face a blank slate. “Have you completed the background check on him?”
“No.” The fairy kept typing. “Too tired from annoying phone calls.”
Thank goodness. Damien’s identity was safe. For now.
“Succubus number 14, I have you in Sloth tonight,” he said, daring her to protest.
“Of course.” Massaging men’s temples. At least they would be Damien’s temples.
“Fawzi’s looking for you,” he said, handing her the assignment slip.
Big surprise. The ifrit was probably going crazy. And now she had to convince him to hang out in Sloth and betray their boss. Good thing she had an idea.
Chapter Five
D
amien rolled over in a massive beanbag chair in order to get a better view of
Wife Swap
. He used his arm as a pillow and fought back a yawn. Not that the television show was boring. It was an interesting bit of reality, far more addicting than he would have imagined an hour ago. No, the yawn was for the fact that he could already feel his body turning to mush.
amien rolled over in a massive beanbag chair in order to get a better view of
Wife Swap
. He used his arm as a pillow and fought back a yawn. Not that the television show was boring. It was an interesting bit of reality, far more addicting than he would have imagined an hour ago. No, the yawn was for the fact that he could already feel his body turning to mush.
Damien sank farther into the chair.
He was in Sloth, the least sexy room he could imagine. Therefore, it was the perfect place for his next run-in with Shiloh. He didn’t want to think about kissing her, touching her, or the way her hands felt when she wrapped them around his shoulders.
Stop thinking about it.
Yeah right.
He fought his beanbag chair for a better position. His night in Lust had only been the most incredible night of his life. And that was the part he could remember.
He couldn’t help wondering if Shiloh could be saved. He knew she’d been led to believe that she had to work with monsters like Napthulo. But she wasn’t corrupt like him, or evil. Damien had seen the good in her. If she could live with those demons for centuries and still retain her goodness and vitality, then she was an incredible woman indeed, a woman worth saving.
Of course it wasn’t his job to convert she-demons. He’d made quite a reputation killing them instead.
But Shiloh wasn’t a true demon. She had choices, even if she didn’t know that.
Yet another reason Napthulo had to be eliminated. Damien blew out a breath and focused on the task at hand. The Council had an agent observing Napthulo’s inner sanctum. Once the coast was clear, Damien and Shiloh would make their move.
If Shiloh ever showed up.
Where were the she-demons?
He lifted his head and did a double check of the massive room devoted to laziness. Damien had chosen the beanbag area, only because he’d been way too tempted by the row of velvet recliners in the back. Then you had the water bed pit and the pile of pillows. Massive televisions lined the walls, spewing sports and junk television.
Damien had avoided college football, classic movies and anything else that would have normally intrigued him. Instead he went for reality television, hoping he wouldn’t get drawn in. And now he found himself rooting for the fireeating wife of a traveling circus lion tamer to give the daughter of the uber-strict pageant mom a makeover.
This place really was dangerous—with or without demons.
He ran a hand over his shirt and felt his hidden switch star holster. Five shots.
It should be plenty. A well-aimed switch star could slice through a demon and whirl back to Damien in under a second. If The Council’s spy did his job, Damien wouldn’t even encounter any spawn of Satan, not until he started sucking them back into hell.
He’d enter Napthulo’s chambers using Shiloh’s code. Once he located the portal, he’d reverse the energy and vacuum Napthulo, the she-demons and every single demonic creature back into the second level of hell. Then he’d seal them there for all eternity.
Except for Shiloh. Damien felt a twinge of guilt. He didn’t think she’d go down, not if it hadn’t happened the last time. And besides, he couldn’t see her as damned.
Not really.
Or was he going crazy?
Damien pounded at the beanbag chair, trying to get comfortable.
What was taking Shiloh so long? He’d called her almost an hour ago.
Why was he so impatient? It wasn’t as if he needed to see her. He certainly didn’t miss her. But he would like to have her around. She wasn’t bad company.
The hairs on his arms stood on end as the energy in the room surged. His skin tingled and he tensed, his body on high alert. A door creaked open behind the chain of recliners and Damien recoiled as he beheld a succubus in her true form.
He’d never seen one like that before. The she-demons he’d killed had already been feeding. That was how he’d spotted them.
But he knew from stories and from the overwhelming stench of sulfur exactly what he was seeing. She looked pale and plastic-like, as though she was a department store mannequin. Gauzy hair wisped about her face and her entire body seemed to glow around the edges. Her features were as frighteningly regular as a plastic doll’s. There were two more behind her.
Depravity hung heavy in the air, along with unmistakable, infectious evil.
He almost cringed as two more glided into Sloth. The true mortals in the room didn’t seem to notice the way they seemed to float. These demons had almost no natural movement at all.
Shiloh entered last, petite yet resolute in a pale peach gown. She’d pulled on a pair of white evening gloves, most likely to hide the wedding ring on her finger. One glove drooped past her elbow as she hesitated in the doorway.
She didn’t belong here any more than Damien did. She closed the door, purposely avoiding his gaze.
This might be the life she’d been forced to endure, but this wasn’t what she was created to be. Damien could see it. Why couldn’t she?
Damien caught her eye. She was so glad to see him that his mouth twitched into an encouraging smile. He couldn’t help it.
She quickly hid her emotion and adopted a mask of seductive serenity. Shiloh held his gaze as she strolled toward him, knowing exactly what the sway of her hips did to him.
“Good to see you again,” she said, sinking down next to him. She smelled like warm vanilla sugar.
Minx. “You made an impression last time.”
Her eyes danced as she tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Would you like me to massage your temples?”
He cleared his throat. “That’s okay. I think we can hold off on the touching.”
“No,” she said, sneaking a glance around the room. “I’m here to touch you. It’s my job,” she said under her breath. “So unless you want me to pick where I touch you . . .”
“Temples would be fine,” Damien said quickly.
“I thought so.” Delicate fingers touched him on either side of his head. “Although you have no idea what you’re missing.”
She was wrong. Damien had way too good an idea of what this woman could do to him. He wanted nothing more than to slip that pale silk gown from her shoulders and kiss those magnificent breasts. He’d tempt her. Tease her. Give to her. He wondered if she’d ever had the pleasure of being seduced. He doubted it.
She didn’t have to live like this.
Her fingers slid through his hair and a small groan escaped him.
“You’re such a puppy dog,” she said, pleased.
“Woof.”
She giggled at that.
He found he liked making her smile. “See? You don’t need a hellhound,” he said, glancing up at her. “You have me.”
“Rufus gives me less trouble,” she said, grinning.
“I can’t argue there,” he said, as she swatted at him.
He dug an elbow into the beanbag chair and sat forward. “Listen,” he said, taking both of her hands in his. “I know this is rough on you, but I will take care of you.” He squeezed her hands. “Rufus too.”
He could see his promise pleased her a great deal. “Fawzi, too,” she said.
“Anybody else?” he quipped.
She made a show of tapping a finger against her cheek. “Maybe I’ll draw up a list.”
He took her finger and kissed it. “You’re going to be the end of me.”
Funny how this felt like it was only the beginning.
Damien’s mirth was cut short as he watched a succubus glide behind them. The creature stopped next to a short, stocky man two beanbag chairs down. Anger welled up in Damien as the succubus touched her client on the shoulder. The man groaned, arching like a cat as she fed off the briefest contact.
He itched to bury a switch star in her chest.
Shiloh planted her hands on his shoulders as they watched.
He’d dedicated his entire life to annihilating that kind of evil.
Shiloh sensed it too. “Damien—” she warned.
Remember why you’re here.
He’d come to exterminate the entire roach’s den, not pick a fight in Sloth. As great as it would feel to blow these she-demons straight to hell, one wrong move in this crowd and he’d have some dead humans on his conscience as well.
Still, watching them made his entire body burn with fury.
“It’s wrong,” he hissed.
“I know,” she murmured.
As if in slow motion, he saw the succubus grip the other man’s head. Her hand tightened as yellowed talons hissed and curled from an appendage that was more claw than hand. They weaved through the man’s hair. Tendons and muscles worked under the creature’s thinning skin.
She was a devil who feasted on men. A cunningly masked locust.
Shiloh’s hands had moved to Damien’s upper arms. She held him back against the chair as every nerve in his body vibrated with the urge to attack.
The air around the full-blooded she-demon shimmered with energy. Her pale body bloomed with life. Her shapeless gown wound into a red teddy, and her body morphed into a Victoria’s Secret dream. Thick black hair streamed down her back. Her cheeks were high, her lips full and seductive.
The man gaped at her, as if she were his deepest fantasy brought to life. Damien had no doubt she was.
The she-demon had hijacked the man’s mind, rifled through his fantasies. And now she would feed on him.
Evil, pure evil. Damien triple-checked his switch stars, itching to hurl one through her skull.
Damien watched her siphon her victim’s energy as she began massaging his feet. The man laid back and gave willingly.
Damien’s fingers curled, his anger mounting.
“Not yet,” Shiloh whispered in his ear.
The tickle of her breath aroused him and it pissed him off all over again.
Who was she to take up with these creatures? She should have stood up to them, or at least not taken part. But she was just as guilty as the rest of them. Using people. Feeding off people. These men had their wills and their very life forces weakened. Some turned to alcohol or drugs or sex after being with a succubus. They became addicts in a vain attempt to fill the hole that these creatures had dug inside them.
Some never made it out alive. They just disappeared. Lives were destroyed. Families were ruined. And for what? To enable men to pursue some sick fantasy—the seven deadly sins. There was a reason they’d been forbidden in the first place.
Sloth.
Greed.
Lust.
They weakened humans, made them susceptible to demons like Napthulo.
He couldn’t wait to sink a switch star into the biggest locust of them all.
Damien’s phone buzzed. It was a text from The Council.
Clear.
A dull satisfaction thudded in his chest. He refused to look at Shiloh as he tucked his phone back in his pocket. This was it. They had a straight shot at Napthulo’s inner sanctum.
“Come on, demon,” he said, shoving himself out of the beanbag. “I feel like taking a walk.”
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