Tequila Sunset (Last Call #4.5) (2 page)

Caitlin had no idea who she went
to bed with every night. Iris met Leo’s eyes, and fought the urge
to say to him the same thing she told herself every night.
We don’t belong
with them. We don’t deserve them.

Leo nodded his head, whether in greeting or
silent acknowledgement, she didn’t know. Then he turned his
attention to Caitlin. “You know what she’s supposed to do here
yet?”

“
No, I…” She fell silent as
the music did, her head lolling back a little. “Wait.
Now.”

The speakers overhead crackled a little, and
the bartender’s voice announced, “Last call for the gentleman here.
Tequila Sunset, coming up.”

“
Submission,” Caitlin
whispered. “That’s him, Iris. The one you need.”

She barely heard Leo’s muttered curse. The
patrons of the bar turned their attention to the low platform in
the middle of the room, and her eyes followed even as she fought
it, suddenly sure she knew what she’d find.

And she did. A hundred nights of yearning
dreams had branded those broad shoulders in her mind forever. She
let her gaze follow the line of his arm down to the large, capable
hands, the hands that she’d stared at just the week before as he’d
fixed her broken cable box.

Zack sat at the bar, tense and wary, and she
had to get out of there before he saw her. Before he discovered
that she was no more human than he was, and destroyed the delicate
balance of their already strained friendship.

It couldn’t be coincidence. She jerked
around and glared up at Leo. “How did you find out? Did you -- is
this a joke?”

But it was too late, because the next time
she hazarded a glance at the bar, Zack was staring straight at
her.

The chill from before vanished under the
heat of his gaze. But then, it always did. Zack made her feel all
of the things she’d turned away from the day Leo had dragged her
from the burning rubble of the trap her own pride had set for
her.

“
You’re the one,” Leo
whispered. “You’re his untouchable human. He doesn’t
know.”

Even as she watched, realization washed over
Zack’s strong features, and the set of his jaw hardened. Iris
tightened her fingers around her jacket and fought a shudder. “He
does now.”

Caitlin bit her lip. “You have to go to
him.” Her dark eyes clouded a little, and she wrapped a hand around
Iris’ arm. “You think I can’t know anything about you or Leo, but
you’re wrong. I know, because I listen. Now you have to
listen.”

Zack would be furious. She could already see
the tight look in his eyes shifting from shock to anger. If she
gave in to the temptation and reached out with her power, she
doubted she’d find that his deepest desire involved taking her
upstairs to do dirty things to her.

More likely his darkest desire at the moment
involved strangling her.

Iris shook Caitlin’s hand free and turned
her back on the bar. “I’m leaving. Leofric, you’d do well to teach
your psychic not to meddle with demons. We’re not all as
soft-hearted as you.”

Annoyance flashed in Leo’s eyes, and he
curled a protective hand over Caitlin’s shoulder. “Lie to yourself
all you want, Ianthe. But don’t take it out on someone who’s just
trying to help.”

Heat flooded her cheeks when she
realized Leo had used
his
magic to read the darkest desires of her heart. He knew
what dreams kept her up at night, kept her panting into her pillow
as she fought temptation and the need to tell Zack the truth and
give herself to him, body and soul.

He acknowledged her embarrassment with a
cocky little grin, and Iris felt her temper spike. “We don’t belong
with them,” she snapped. “You’ll only hurt her in the end. And I’m
not taking that chance with him.” And because her words were
nothing but bluff held together with the unraveling shreds of her
self-control, she shoved past Leo and headed for the door,
determined to reach it before Zack recovered enough to follow her
and demand an explanation.

She made it past the bouncer outside before
Zack caught up to her, his arms bare in the cold night air. “Who
are you really?” His eyes were flinty. “How do you know
Leofric?”

Anger laced his voice, and instinct overrode
self-control. The dark magic she’d shunned for decades bubbled to
the surface, hungry for Zack and his power. Hungry for his
desires.

Fury arced through her, and that
she could have handled. But it was the hint of betrayal, the
desperate need to know
why
she’d lied to him, that held her rooted in place when she
should have turned and fled.

Instead she gave him the truth, half hoping
it was enough to drive him away and save him from the darkness
inside her. “I’m a demon.”

He shivered. “And a liar.”

“
And a liar.” In seventy
years, nothing had hurt as badly as seeing the pain in his eyes.
She shifted her gaze to the wall behind his head and struggled to
remember all the reasons she’d deprived herself of the comfort of
his touch. “You were better off without me, Zack. I destroy
men.”

He took a step closer, his breath clouding
the space between them. “You knew what I was, Iris. You could have
let me make that decision.”

“
So only men get to suffer
the noble pangs of self-denial?” A tiny spark of temper burned
through the pain, and she rose up on her toes. It only put her eyes
on level with his chin, but she focused the sleepy tendril of
unused power into the strength of her gaze, turning it into a
challenge. “Maybe I already know you can’t handle me.”

He growled and moved again, the hard wall of
his chest pushing her back a step. “You don’t know half of what you
think you know.” The fire in his eyes faded a little, and he raised
a hand. “I’m getting a cab, and I’m taking you home.”

Her mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

“
You heard me.”

The sheer arrogance should have infuriated
her instead of weakening her knees. But that had always been Zack’s
dangerous allure -- the power that radiated from him and promised
the sort of dominant strength that she craved.

And if she gave in now, she’d drag them both
into hell.

She spun and stalked away, toward the alley
that led behind Last Call and spilled out on the other side of the
block. “Have a nice night, Zack.”

“
Shit. Iris.” He caught her
arm, his touch gentle in spite of the leashed strength she knew he
possessed. “We don’t need to make a scene, all right?”

“
Zack…” His name came out
pleading, and she cursed her weakness. “Don’t make me do this.
Don’t make me hurt you more than I already have.”

His stare softened a little. “You haven’t
hurt me.” Then he sighed. “Come on. Let me see you home.”

Give an alpha werewolf an inch
and he’ll take twenty miles and call you lucky.
Even with her predilection for
dominance games in the bedroom, she’d never toyed with an alpha
wolf in the three hundred years she’d walked the Earth. As a demon,
she’d always liked to know the power rested squarely in her hands
at the end of the day.

But refusing to go home with him was
foolish. He lived in the apartment next door to her own. If she
didn’t resolve this now, he’d find a way to force the issue. She
had to sever their relationship now, while she still had the
self-control to do what was needed to keep him safe.

A thousand years of living in misery would
be better than knowing she’d lured Zack down the seductive path to
damnation.

“
Home,” she whispered, the
word forming fog in the cold night air. “We… can talk at
home.”

Even a cab ride out to Brooklyn barely gave
Zack enough time to calm his riotous instincts. He was a detective,
for Christ’s sake. His job entailed gathering facts, making
connections, and following those connections until he arrived at
the correct conclusion. Still, he couldn’t seem to wrap his brain
around the facts that had presented themselves tonight.

Iris Belrose was a demon. And not just any
demon, but a renowned seductress who’d led numerous men to trade
their souls for the pleasure of her touch.

No.
Iris Belrose was a social worker.
He’d assembled her cheap futon because she didn’t have any tools of
her own. He’d almost kissed her once, when the firefighters on the
fourth floor threw that Halloween party.

Iris Belrose
, not Ianthe.

He paid before he climbed out of the cab,
and he took Iris’ arm and led her up the steps to the front door.
The elevator only worked half the time, so he started up the stairs
to the third floor. He said nothing until he stopped in front of
her door and took her keys from her hand. “Do you want to talk
tonight or in the morning?”

She didn’t look much like an infamous demon
at the moment. Her gaze didn’t quite meet his as she wet her lips
nervously. “Tonight.”

Zack opened the door and waved her in.
Something told him she’d be more at ease in her home rather than
his. “Whatever you want, Iris.”

He’d been in her apartment enough times to
be familiar with its sparse furnishings and its hand-sewn
decorations. Iris was poor as hell and full of stubborn pride, but
it hadn’t taken long to figure out ways around her insistence that
she didn’t need help. He’d been feeding her under the guise of
getting her to cook dinner for him for so long that they’d grown
accustomed to sharing their meals together a few nights a week.

And in all that time she’d never seemed to
be anything other than a sweet human woman.

Iris unbuttoned her thick blue jacket and
hung it on the hook he’d installed next to the door for her. Her
fingers hesitated next to the spackle that covered a hole in the
wall a few inches to the right, and he knew she had to be
remembering the day when she’d asked to borrow a screwdriver. She
hadn’t known how to hang the hook, or even what wall studs were,
and he’d ended up stifling helpless laughter at her frustrated
swearing.

Belatedly, he realized he’d left his own
jacket at the bar. He cleared his throat and sat on the edge of the
futon. “I guess we have a lot to talk about.”

She turned, and he could almost see her
gathering her determination around her like a shield. “I owe you an
explanation, and I’ll give you one. But I’m not going to change my
mind. You’re a good man, and you need a good woman.”

He chose his words carefully. “And you think
that’s not you?”

“
I’m a demon, Zack.” Gentle
words, spoken as if she wasn’t sure he understood -- or believed.
“I’ve played human for seventy years, but it doesn’t change what I
am.”

“
So I’ve heard.” He rose
again, just to keep from fidgeting like a kid on his first date.
“Guess that means you think Leo’s making a mistake with his new
girl, too.”

“
Caitlin’s too young to
understand what he is.”

Her condescension set his teeth on edge.
“And me?”

Iris met his gaze, and the challenge in her
eyes wasn’t enough to cover the tiny thread of nervous
vulnerability -- or the desire that stirred in her every time they
were alone together. “Alpha werewolves think they can handle
anything.”

He ignored the challenge, though doing so
made his hands shake and his words rough. “Leo’s as whipped as any
man I’ve ever seen. So either his girlfriend’s an astronomically
terrific lay, or you demons aren’t as immune to emotion as you make
it sound.”

“
I never said we were immune.”
She took a step closer, crowding his space, and for the first time
he felt power rise in her as she stared up at him with dark,
dangerous eyes. “If I didn’t love you enough to want you safe, I
would have fucked you straight into hell by now.
You can’t trust
me.
”

He wanted to grab her. Kiss her. Instead, he
took a deep breath and steadied himself. “Love doesn’t send people
to hell, Iris.”

“
The things I want you to
do to me might.”

Don’t even think about asking,
Elliott.
“That’s bullshit. Give me another excuse.”

Her mouth opened and then closed
again, as if she hadn’t been prepared for such a casual dismissal
of what was apparently her best argument. “I… that’s reason
enough
.”

It didn’t come close to balancing out the
nights alone in his bed, dreaming of her. “No. It isn’t.”

She huffed and spun on her heel before
stalking toward the door. “That’s it, then. If you’re so cocky you
don’t think anything can touch you, it’s pointless to argue. You
should go home now.”