The Demon and the Succubus (26 page)

Levi shuddered as he remembered his recent experiences with the shades. He definitely didn’t relish a third time, especially since he’d run out of free passes to the other side. “Probably a good idea.” He gestured for her to precede him.

She eyed him warily as they approached the gates together and the guards quickly waved them both through. Apparently, even though he hadn’t been here in the last two hundred years, his mother had ensured the entire staff knew him. He couldn’t really complain since it made getting inside that much easier.

As the gates clanged closed behind him, he noticed a buildup of shiny crystals clinging to the black wrought iron bars and stepped forward to trace his finger over the bumpy surface.

Salt.

“Pardon me, Your Grace, but if you’ll stand clear, we need to chase back the shades before they try to cross through the gates.”

Levi stepped back and two of the guards armed with power sprayers stood side by side, aiming the nozzles of the sprayers toward the shades.

When the strong spray of water hit the gauzy figures, they shied away, undulating as if displeased, but kept their distance.

“Kosher salt and holy water?”

“No sir. The duchess ordered only kosher salt to spray the shades and also to be sprinkled along every edge of the property except her private entrance.”

Levi nearly laughed. Of course she wouldn’t lock herself in or out of the grounds by allowing the use of holy water. “How are the shades kept from breaching her private entrance?”

“There’s a guard there at all times, Your Grace. I’m not privy to their techniques to guard that gate, however.”

Levi smiled and nodded. He wondered how many of the staff knew his mother was a demon, and if they cared. Most likely they’d be loyal to Lucifer himself if he held a proper title. Levi shook his head at the traditions he’d grown up with seen in a new and different light. “Good job. Carry on,” he told the guards who practically beamed with pride at the small compliment. That fact alone assured Levi that his mother treated the staff as she always had. She paid them extremely well for their loyalty and their service, but the only further compliment they would ever receive was their continued employment.

Levi bit back the surge of guilt as he realized he’d treated them all much the same during his tenure living here as the duke. Amalya’s description of him as an arrogant ass was proving itself a bit too apt for his comfort.

He strode across the expansive front garden missing Amalya. Sadness and longing squeezed his heart and he quickened his steps, eager to be done with this errand and get back to her.

Levi glanced up at the imposing gray brick facade of Ashford House as thousands of memories assaulted him both welcome and not. Somehow the house seemed less imposing and suffocating than when he’d left so long ago. He wondered if that was purely from so much time having passed or from all the new truths he’d learned about his life.

Either way, he was here and needed to figure out who he was and who he wanted to be going forward. His mother wouldn’t be happy that he hadn’t come home to fall in with her plans, but he hoped she could shed some light on the truths he’d heard about his past.

He navigated the several steps up to the front porch, rang the bell, and waited, wondering what type of reception he would receive. After all, he hadn’t stood in this spot for two hundred years.

If his mother used human staff, he’d be long forgotten by now—although knowing his mother she’d found a way around that.

Maintaining appearances was too important to her.

When the large double doors opened, the ancient-looking butler showed only a split second of surprise before his face returned to an inscrutable mask. “Your Grace.” He opened the door wide allowing Levi to step inside.

Levi smiled as his assumptions about his mother proved true.

He tried not to crane his neck to take in all the changes that modernization had brought to Ashford House. Many of the priceless antiques and statues still stood in the same places he remembered from his time here, but there were new treasures as well.

At least his mother had impeccable taste.

“Is my mother at home?”

“The duchess is in the drawing room with some guests, Your Grace.” The man was definitely human and stood stiff, staring straight ahead and not examining his long-lost employer. At least not openly. Some things here never changed.

Levi started forward and then stopped. “What’s your name?” “Your mother calls me Jenkins, Your Grace.”

Levi laughed and turned back to face the man. From the time he was a small boy all their butlers had been called Jenkins, purely because his mother didn’t want to have to bother to remember their names. That particular practice was a definite throwback to the heyday of noble families here in England. “What’s your actual name?”

“Ian Simms, Your Grace.”

“Do you prefer Ian or Simms?”

A horrified expression crossed the butler’s staid expression. Levi wasn’t sure if the man was worried about facing his mother’s wrath or the impropriety of the long-lost Duke of Ashford using his first name.

“How about we split the difference and go with Simms?”

When the man’s wrinkled face relaxed, Levi nodded, the matter settled. “All right, Simms. Are my old rooms still mine? Or has my mother redistributed them for her use?”

The man stiffened as if the question had been an insult to his skills. “Of course your rooms are still yours and reserved solely for your use, Your Grace. Your wardrobe has been periodically updated so all would be ready for you if you ever had need of them.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “Please don’t tell my mother I’m here. I’d like to freshen up a bit, change, and then surprise her.”

Simms looked dubious, as if torn between loyalty to the woman he had to deal with on a daily basis, and the man who actually owned the house and grounds and held the official title.

“I’ll tell her I ordered your silence.” He grinned when Simms frowned. “Don’t worry, Simms. She’ll be thrilled I did something so worthy of a duke as bullying a servant.”

He took the steps of the grand staircase two at a time, a habit he’d never quite broken and one that he was sure his mother still hated. Apparently, it wasn’t regal enough for a duke. Which, of course, gave him even less incentive to break the habit.

A quick right turn at the top of the staircase and he followed the hall to the end where he found the large door to the ducal suite.

He opened the door to his room and was surprised to find it almost exactly as he’d left it. The bedspread and wallpaper had been updated to a more modern pattern, but the same royal blue color scheme he remembered ran throughout and the same pictures sat on the bedside cabinet and chest of drawers as the last time he’d left this room.

He walked inside slowly, trying to ignore the sensation that he was trespassing. The room around him was both familiar and foreign—a relic from times gone by. He picked up a picture that sat on the cabinet next to the bed and studied it. It was a drawing of a woman.

“Amalya.”

He sucked in a breath of surprise as memories flooded back and he sat down hard on the bed as he continued to stare at her image.

He’d drawn this picture from memory. She’d captured his imagination even though he’d only seen her once, and he’d spent several months looking for her before he’d left Ashford House for good.

Why hadn’t he remembered her when he’d seen her at Sinner’s Redemption? He shook his head with a small laugh. Did Lilith somehow know of their tenuous connection? Was that why he was assigned to Amalya instead of one of the other three sisters?

All those years ago, Amalya had been leaving a storefront and he’d been drawn by her grace and assurance as she crossed the street and was handed into an unmarked carriage. The memory was so vivid he could remember exactly what she’d worn, the smell of meat pies in the air from a passing vendor, and even the quick flash of her pale ankle he’d seen as she stepped up into the carriage and disappeared from view.

She was lovely, her hair elaborately twisted on top of her head in the style of the day, her expression teasing and welcoming just as it had been when they’d made love just before the graveyard and the shades.

He very much wanted Amalya to be a part of his future, and apparently without him knowing it, she was also a tiny piece of his past.

He set the picture back where he’d found it, and ignoring the other mementos that lay neatly placed around the room, he went to the wardrobe, happy to find fully modern clothes rather than those he’d left behind so long ago. Just next to the wardrobe was a door that had been added since he’d been here last. A quick investigation revealed a modern loo complete with a shower.

“Thank you, Mother. This is one change I wholeheartedly approve of.”

Levi stripped quickly, glad to leave the remnants of his ruined suit and shoes for the valet to deal with. Something told him his mother had kept a valet employed just for him all these years. The poor man was either ecstatic with his lack of any real duties or bored beyond belief.

Levi showered quickly, availing himself of the razor and shaving cream he found tucked into the recesses in the custom marble walls of the shower. When he finished, he pulled fresh silk boxers from the chest of drawers, choosing not to dwell on how his mother knew what type of undergarments he now wore. After all, when he’d lived here last, men had worn smallclothes.

After pulling on socks, he chose a navy pin-striped suit from the wardrobe and dressed quickly, thankful men’s attire no longer included a starched neckcloth. When he was finished, he studied his image in the full-length mirror and decided he was presentable enough to keep from mortifying his mother and her company.

Not that he’d ever worried much about that, but if he hoped to get her to talk to him, he needed to make some concessions—especially since once she found out he still refused to bow to her wishes, she would loose her anger and he would lose his chance to find out anything from her.

He stopped to tuck Amalya’s picture inside his breast pocket and then stooped to pull open the bottom drawer of the bedside cabinet. He pulled the drawer all the way out and set it aside, ignoring the assortment of letters and other things he’d deemed worthy of keeping so long ago. Once the drawer was removed, he opened the compartment below and reached inside. When his fingers closed over a small box, he smiled, pulled it out, and slipped it inside his pocket. If his mother had found it, the box wouldn’t have remained here all these years.

He quickly put the drawer to rights before he stood, straightened his jacket, and left the room for the last time.

He made his way downstairs and tossed a smile toward Simms who hovered nearby in case he was needed.

The man looked distinctly worried, and Levi hoped for the older man’s sake that Levi’s coming run-in with his mother didn’t negatively affect the man’s employment. Levi might technically own everything around him, including the bank accounts that paid all the salaries, but his mother was the real puppet master, and the staff apparently knew that as well as he.

He turned the knob to the drawing room and stepped inside as four female faces turned toward him.

His mother sat in a high-backed chair holding court with the three ladies who vied for space on an antique settee that he remembered to be distinctly uncomfortable.

“Obediah.” His mother smiled and rose expectantly as if they greeted each other daily and he had just happened to continually miss everyone else’s visits for the past two centuries.

He crossed the room and took her hand as he brushed a quick kiss across her cheek. “Mother.” He turned his attention to the ladies. “Ladies.” He nodded and they stared in return. They had the best gossip scoop in years—they had actually sighted the elusive Duke of Ashford. Mentally grinding his teeth at their expressions of ill-concealed glee, he forced a smile. “I apologize for the interruption, but I’m afraid I need to borrow my mother for a while on urgent business.”

The three women rose in unison, clearly eager to escape and begin to spread the news.

“No problem at all, Your Grace,” the middle one said. She was a tall, attractive woman of around thirty with a distinctly calculating gleam in her eye. “Perhaps we will see you at the charity event tomorrow?” She pursed her lips and gave him what looked to be a very well-practiced “fuck me” look.

“I regret that business will keep me from attending, but I do hope you enjoy it.” Mentally dismissing them, he turned to his mother. “Shall we?” he asked holding out his arm in what probably appeared a very antiquated gesture.

His mother smiled up at him, clearly pleased with his performance of titillating the masses. When she took his arm, he quickly guided her out of the drawing room and down the hall into the breakfast room. Simms would ensure the guests found their way out.

This room too had been updated and now melded the beauty of the past with the elegance and convenience of the present. Although he still hated the long, formal dining table that took up most of the center of the room. He remembered as a small boy sitting on one far side, his mother on the other. He’d always wondered if the entire British Empire would crumble if he sat somewhere else but at the head of the table but hadn’t ever braved society’s wrath enough to find out.

There had never been warmth and caring within these walls. Levi had grown up with duty and appearances and wealth.

The familiar sensation of the loneliness that had engulfed him frequently as a child threatened to rise up and swamp him and he shoved it back with pure willpower. He was now a grown man, old enough to choose his own life rather than only reject one as he’d done so long ago when he left.

“You’ve returned.” His mother beamed up at him and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his lapel. “I knew you would.”