Wicked Edge (37 page)

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Authors: Nina Bangs

BOOK: Wicked Edge
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Sparkle speared him with a death stare. “Hey, I sacrificed my favorite shoes to the cause tonight. I had to get another pair. So stuff it, Mede.”

Edge smiled at Ganymede. “Looks like you’ve lost your honeybunny status.”

Bourne took over. “I’ll keep this short. I failed tonight.”

“It was six against one. And they were all powerful. Don’t beat yourself up over this.” Ganymede whispered an aside to Sparkle. “Have any candy in your purse?”

“No.” Sparkle didn’t look forgiving.

“Still, I should’ve anticipated that Ted would cheat.” Bourne
shook his head. “It’d been a long time since anyone challenged me. I’d grown complacent.”

Edge voiced his thoughts. “Ted was strong, but you could’ve taken him in a straight–up battle. I’ve been wondering…” He didn’t quite know how to explain his thoughts. “His phony angels were as powerful as us. The one edge we had was our fighting experience. What are they?” He glanced at Passion. “What are you?”
Besides the woman I love.

She leaned toward him. “I remember something I said to you a while back. We balance each other. I’m life and you’re death. Do you think…?”

Edge got it at the same time everyone else seemed to.

“They
are
us? Only instead of being cosmic troublemakers, they’re cosmic do–gooders?” Sparkle sounded horrified. “Oh. My. God. That means there’s some tight-assed bitch in that crowd ready to undo all the bad I’ve accomplished. She’ll bring together couples who’re perfect for each other and encourage them to fall in love, marry, and only have sex in the missionary position. I feel like puking.”

Ganymede shrugged. “I don’t feel threatened.”

“Not until one of them starts following you around to calm all that beautiful chaos you love so much. He’ll probably try to put you on a diet, take away your ice cream, and encourage you to exercise.” Sparkle looked as though the thought intrigued her.

Ganymede’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Then he’ll have a really short lifespan.”

Bourne’s gaze turned thoughtful. “You’re right, Passion. It all makes sense now. I wondered why everyone I found instinctively chose chaos when I knew the universe always balanced things in some way.” He looked excited. “They belong with us.”

“Speak for yourself.” Ganymede poked Sparkle. “Look in your purse. Maybe you have a pack of Life Savers in there somewhere.”

With a resigned sigh, she peeked inside. “One Life Saver with lint stuck to it.”

“I’ll take it.”

Bourne seemed to make an effort to pull himself away from thoughts of his new recruits. “I have two more things to discuss before I let you go.” He focused on Edge. “Cinn’s been nagging me about allowing you to resign from your position as Death.”

Startled, Edge glanced at Passion.

She shrugged. “I might’ve mentioned that I’d appreciate her help.” Then she returned to watching Bourne.

Bourne raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ve known for a while that you weren’t happy with the job, but I have a problem. Death is an important position. If I let you walk away, who takes your place?” He looked troubled. “I owe you for tonight, and if I could, I’d give you something else to do.”

Sparkle jumped to her feet. “Canis.”

“Who?” Bourne sounded puzzled.

“Passion came to me for help in finding a way to free Edge. So I did some research. I found Canis, and I’ve already talked to him. He’s powerful, and he’s chomping at the bit to be Death.” Sparkle glowed with triumph.

Edge looked at Passion. He raised one brow. “Is there anyone you
didn’t
ask?”

“Well, I wanted you to be happy.” She fidgeted. “And I couldn’t do it by myself. So I went to the people I thought would be the most help.” She looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

He tried to look pissed, but his lips lifted into a smile in spite of his best effort. Would he ever be able to stay mad at her? He hoped not.

“It might work.” Bourne sat thinking. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll do it. Edge, you can trade places with Canis.”

Now for the big question. Edge took a deep breath. “So what does Canis do?”

Bourne looked amused. “Canis is in charge of fomenting chaos in the government. But he’s been bored for a long time. Seems as though the politicians have done such a great job of creating their own chaos that he hasn’t had anything to do.” Now Bourne was openly grinning. “In fact, you can probably keep your job here. And if the two parties ever start agreeing with each other about anything, you can take a quick trip to DC. But I wouldn’t count on that happening anytime soon.”

“Thank you.” Edge closed his eyes and allowed the joy and relief to roll over him. He felt Passion’s hand clasp his. He tightened his grip. Never letting her go,
never
.

When he opened his eyes, Bourne was leaning back, a bemused expression on his face. “I’ve been the Big Boss for a long time. But after tonight, I’ve decided I need some help.”

Startled, everyone leaned forward.

“I died tonight. And if not for Passion, you’d all be chasing your tails trying to figure out what to do. I’ve always handled everything myself, and I never planned for an emergency like this.”

He paused so long that Edge wanted to drag the words from him.

“So I’ve decided to appoint a second.” Bourne allowed the implications to sink in. “I’ll personally train this person to take over in case I’m dead or unable to be the Big Boss anymore. They’ll know all that I know.”

“No one could take your place.” Ganymede glanced away.

Edge grinned. Ganymede felt embarrassed spouting anything that sounded even vaguely like affection for his leader.

Bourne steepled his fingers and stared over their heads. “I appreciate the compliment. This person might not be your ultimate choice for leader, but at least you’ll have someone smart, with
common sense to move you forward. Let me say first that sheer physical power wasn’t my first consideration.”

“Edge proved tonight that he’s strong enough to defeat almost any challenger. And I’ve always suspected you could kick my butt, Ganymede, if you felt motivated.” He shrugged. “This appointment is also a little selfish. Even if I’m the Big Boss for thousands of years to come, I need someone to help me. Especially now with the new ones.”

“Who is it?” Passion asked for all of them.

Bourne smiled. “Sparkle Stardust, do I have a job for you.”

Passion stood on the deck of the Pirate Ship, staring into the darkness, aware with every cell in her body of the man standing beside her. It was cool, but not cold. She reveled in the night and what it would bring.

After sleeping the day away, she’d wakened to the news that Sparkle was keeping the park closed for a week until everything was straightened out.

That meant…

She turned to Edge. “We have seven days to make love at every attraction.” Passion reached up to slide her fingers along his jaw.

He angled his head to kiss her fingers. “An exhausting assignment, but doable.”

His smile was so sensual she wanted to throw him to the deck and rip his clothes from his perfect body. She drew in a deep calming breath. No, they’d already done the fast and furious twice before. This time she’d draw out the pleasure until neither of them could wait another moment.

“I’m very good at organizing things. During the day we can talk about our wedding…” The poor guy hadn’t even gotten all of the words to his proposal out before she’d shouted yes and pounced on him. Okay, so she was pretty eager. “And at night we can…”

His smile widened, a little savage and a lot predatory. “I like the nights best.” He pulled her away from the deck and guided her into the captain’s cabin. Then he reached for her.

“Wait.” She pushed him toward the captain’s bed. “Make yourself comfortable, because I have something planned for you.”

Passion watched with avid eyes as he pulled his T–shirt over his head and then slid his jeans down his narrow hips. She had to remind herself to blink.

When he was done, he sprawled across the bed, almost convincing her to abandon her plans. No, she was made of sterner stuff.

She smiled at him and then began to undress, drawing the torture out by going very,
very
slowly. His low growl made her shiver.

When she stood naked before him, she bent to draw the small bag from the pocket of her jacket. She straightened and offered him the sexiest smile she had.

“I’m going to dance for you. You like chocolate, don’t you?”

And she began her Dance of the Seven Hershey’s Kisses.

Turn the page for a preview of
Nina Bangs’s next Castle of Dark Dreams novel…

Wicked Whispers

Coming soon from Berkley Sensation!

The music pressed against the inside of his skull, a melodic migraine pounding out a deadly rhythm in his head. Murmur resisted the urge to just let go, to free his songs, to stop their ice-pick notes from jabbing at him. Pain-free seemed like a good place to be.

He gritted his teeth against the agony. “I need to do a pressure release before my head explodes. I don’t think vacuuming up demon brains is part of the maid’s job description.” Even pacing this hotel room would work off some of the tension buzzing in his brain, but moving hurt too much, so he simply sat as still as he could in the chair facing Bain.

“Control it. If not, they’ll kick you out of the castle, and I need your help.” Bain leaned back in his chair and watched his friend from hooded eyes.

Murmur took a deep breath. “I
never
lose control. So to keep my record intact, I’ll have to take my show on the road. Where can I go to defuse?” The castle-slash-hotel might specialize in fantasy
role-playing, but Murmur didn’t think they were ready for what he’d deliver.

Music was his power, but it was also his weakness. If he kept it captive for too long, the pain crippled him. And at some point it might even drive him crazy. What the world did
not
need was a mad music demon.

Bain shrugged. “It’s late, so I’d try the beach. No one there to hear you. But if some of your music does creep back into the castle, no big deal. Remember, I saw you in action here a few weeks ago. You pissed me off with that compulsion you laid on everyone, but we all danced and had a good time. No harm.” He shrugged. “And sure, you were a little scary in the final showdown with Ted, but all demons ramp up the terror.” His grin promised he could take scary to a whole new level. “It’s what makes us beloved by all.”

No harm because I stopped the dance in time. But I didn’t
want
to stop it. I wanted it to go on and on and on…
Murmur knew his smile was bitter. He winced. Damn, even that small use of facial muscles upped the agony. “Don’t be an ass, Bain. You know what would happen if I lost control, so don’t act as if it’s nothing.” He stood and walked slowly to the door, each tortured step sending new vibrations rattling around inside his aching head.

“Fine. Do your thing.” Bain’s tone said he still didn’t get it. He glanced at Murmur’s music system. “This is a pretty fancy setup for just a hotel stay. Maybe you should turn it on and relax with some mellow tunes instead of dragging yourself to the beach.”

“I have a ‘fancy setup’ because I
need
the music.” He and the other demon had been friends for millennia, but that didn’t mean they knew squat about each other. Demons weren’t social creatures, and being friends simply meant they didn’t try to tear each other apart when they met. All right, so Bain and he were a little closer than that, but Bain had only experienced Murmur’s music on a
small scale. He’d never really seen what happened when Murmur got serious.

Bain heaved an exaggerated sigh and rose to follow him. “Then I’ll leave you to your midnight concert. I’m due for my last fantasy performance of the night in about ten minutes. Give a shout if you need me.” He paused before heading for the winding stairs leading down to the great hall. “And thanks for sticking around. I appreciate it.” Then he was gone.

For a demon, Bain’s words were the same as a big hug and a sloppy kiss from a human. Demons didn’t display emotions. Most of the time, they didn’t have any to display. Okay, so maybe there were occasional outbursts of rage leading to mass destruction. But that was about the limit to their softer feelings.

Murmur took the elevator. No way would he survive the explosion of pain as each foot landed on those stone steps. From there he staggered out of the castle, his hands over his ears, trying to block all the human voices adding to the din in his head.

He stumbled across Seawall Boulevard and down the steps leading to the beach. This was all Bain’s fault. The other demon had called Murmur to help with some yet–to–be–explained vengeance plot. Since then Murmur had been stuck on Galveston Island, unable to find a place far enough away from people to free his music.

Sure, he could’ve abandoned Bain. But Bain was a friend. His
only
friend. And wasn’t it pathetic that Murmur actually cared? Not a positive demonic character trait. He’d have to shore up his I–don’t–give–a–damn wall of indifference.

Right now, though, he needed to stop the pain. When he’d put some distance between himself and the Castle of Dark Dreams, he glanced around. Not far enough away from humanity to cut loose completely, but he could at least siphon off some of his music and relieve the agony for a while.

A moonless night, but there was some light filtering down from the streetlights across the road. No one on the beach. That’s all he had to know. The pain was almost to the point of exploding from him. That would be a bad thing for everyone in Galveston
and
for him. He wasn’t ready to leave the castle yet.

Drawing in a deep breath, he allowed his music to escape in a slow, controlled flow of sound. It mirrored his mood of the moment—dissatisfied, confused, and even a little sad. Murmur let the intertwined melodies build to a crescendo of angry frustration. Why the hell was he feeling these emotions now after so many thousands of years?

He closed his eyes at the remembered bliss of times long past. Times when he released the fury of his songs on entire villages, watching as everyone within the sound of his music died screaming. Or, if he was in a more playful mood, they’d die dancing, unable to stop until their puny human hearts gave out.

Murmur hadn’t done that in a long time. He wasn’t ready to examine the reason why.

Ivy stepped onto the beach and wandered toward the waterline, where gentle waves lapped at the sand. The Gulf was quiet tonight. The lights from the street didn’t do much to help her see where she was going. Symbolic? Maybe. Because three days ago she’d made the first impulsive decision of her adult life.

She’d taken a job at Live the Fantasy, an adult theme park where people could unpack their dreams of being more than they were, dust them off, and play the part for an hour. Tomorrow she’d meet her boss for the first time. Ivy glanced back at the castle. Still time to run.

Before she could begin to obsess about the insanity of accepting a job as the personal assistant to someone named Sparkle Stardust, she heard the music.

It came from everywhere and nowhere. The melody wrapped around her, tendrils of compulsion that seeped into her soul and made her—she widened her eyes—want to dance.

Ivy didn’t dance. Ever. She had no rhythm. But she was okay with that. Dancing didn’t further her life’s goal—a solid, well-paying job so she could build her own white picket fence around a home in suburbia. She’d never depend on a man to do her picket fence–building.

But suddenly, for no apparent reason, she wanted to dance,
had
to dance. Without her permission, her feet began to move with the throbbing beat. Closing her eyes, she let it happen. If she really concentrated, she could almost hear words—of futility, frustration,
need
.

Ivy realized she was dancing farther and farther away from the castle, but she didn’t seem to care. All that mattered was the music. Its bass pounded out an ever more frenetic message of anger and so much need it brought tears to her eyes. She swirled and leaped on waves of emotion, even as the Gulf’s waves curled around her ankles before retreating.

The person she’d always been—logical, grounded in reality—screamed, “What the hell are you doing?” But nothing mattered. Everything she was floated away on the compulsive rhythm urging her to dance and dance and dance…

And then she saw him
. He stood in the darkness, waiting as she danced closer and closer. At first he was only a shadow among many shadows. But as she drew nearer she saw him more clearly. Tall, elegant, with broad shoulders and a body that she imagined would be powerful and lean-muscled beneath his black boots, black pants, and what looked like a black silk shirt open at the throat. All that unrelieved black only served to lead her gaze upward to…

Her heart was a frantic drumbeat, her breathing a harsh rasp in her throat, and it had nothing to do with exertion.

His face.
She gathered all of her willpower and forced her feet to still while she studied him from only a few feet away, too close for safety.

Shining blond hair fell in a smooth curtain to halfway down his back. He watched her from eyes framed by thick lashes. She couldn’t see the color of those eyes in the darkness. The angles and planes of his face cast shadows highlighting male beauty that seemed impossible, but obviously wasn’t. Her gaze drifted to his lips, full and so tempting that…

He smiled. Ivy felt that smile as an ache that started in her chest but moved rapidly south. This was
not
good. She glanced away and tried to recapture her sanity along with her breath. “I wonder where that music is coming from.”

He ignored her comment. “Dance with me.” His voice—husky, compelling, but with a harsh rasp of some emotion she couldn’t identify—hinted that unspeakable pleasures awaited anyone who danced with him.

No.
She didn’t dance with strangers she met on the beach. It absolutely wasn’t going to happen. “Sure.”

And so they danced. Together. Touching. Not what she thought she’d ever enjoy, because with his arms around her she’d have to follow his lead. Ivy knew from experience that she couldn’t match her steps with a partner. But she did.

It was like floating. She swayed in time with her silent partner as he swept her into the dance. Everything seemed supersized. The sand felt deliciously cool beneath her bare feet. When had she kicked off her shoes? The water sparkled. There was no moon, so how could it sparkle? When she tipped her head back to allow her hair to float in the sudden breeze, she saw a sky filled with millions of glittering stars. Not real,
couldn’t
be real. But the impossibility of all those stars didn’t bother her. Only the man and the dance mattered.

He’d pulled her close, and she felt the realness of him as surely as if he wore nothing—the hard planes of his body, the pounding of his heart where her head rested against his chest. And when he cupped her bottom to tuck her between his thighs, she had proof that the dance was affecting him in the same way it was her.

Desire clenched low in her stomach. Shock made her miss a step. She drew in a deep, calming breath and tried to recapture the magic of the dance. But she couldn’t. This wasn’t her. Ivy didn’t go around wanting to throw men to the ground and then ride them until a screaming orgasm shattered her.

The music stopped. Ivy just stood there breathing hard. Exertion or hyperventilating? Didn’t matter; the result was the same. She felt light-headed.

“Thank you.” His words were cool, his tone distant. He turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Ivy stood staring at the water that no longer sparkled. When her dizziness finally passed, she found her shoes and then walked slowly back to the Castle of Dark Dreams. Aptly named, as it turned out. If anyone qualified as a dark dream, her unknown dance partner did.

She decided to wait until she got back to her room before thinking about what had just happened. There was always a logical explanation for everything.
Except when there wasn’t.
Ivy pressed her lips together. Of course there was an explanation. She just had to find it.

Ivy paused before entering the castle. For a moment, she thought about going around to the great hall entrance and taking a look at the ongoing fantasy. No, she didn’t need another shot of make-believe after what she’d experienced on the beach.

Was he staying at the castle? Would she run into him again? Ivy narrowed her eyes as she strode through the door leading into the hotel lobby. He didn’t matter. What did matter was her new job. She needed to concentrate on that.

She stepped into the elevator still wrapped in thoughts of what tomorrow’s meeting with Sparkle Stardust would bring. Someone stepped in with her. Ivy dragged her thoughts away from her new job long enough to notice the man sharing the elevator.

She blinked. He was short and squat with dark hair that stuck out everywhere and looked like steel wool. He had a nose that seemed to swallow his face, and his wrinkled skin was the color and texture of a walnut shell. He stared at her from beneath bushy brows the same color as his eyes. Black. Did anyone really have shiny black eyes? He didn’t look friendly. She prayed the elevator door would open and spit her out onto her floor.

“You took my job, human.” His voice was a dark threatening rumble.

Human?
Ivy stared gape-mouthed at him. “Your job?”

The elevator door slid open. But shock rooted Ivy in place.

“I would have made a better assistant than you. What do you know about the needs of a person of power?” On that contemptuous snarl, he stepped from the car, and the doors silently closed behind him.

Okay, that was just bizarre. Ivy took a deep fortifying breath before pressing the button to open the door again. She stepped out. Thank God, the strange, and yes, disturbing man was gone. He must have a room on her floor, though. That made her uneasy.

Trying to shake off the encounter, she unlocked her door and stepped inside. She sighed her relief as she turned on the light. And froze.

Her room was crawling with spiders. Thousands of them. Big, fat, ugly spiders. They crawled over her bed, up her walls, and across the ceiling. They watched her from gleaming eyes that oozed malice.

Another woman might have screamed and run. Ivy just pressed her lips together, narrowed her eyes, and strode to the phone on her night table. She swept spiders from the receiver before making
her call, even as she mentally chanted her personal mantra: no black widows, no brown recluses, no
fear
. Then she went back to stand at the open door and wait.

She tried not to think, to conjecture, to
panic
. Ivy had built her entire life on the premise that any problem could be solved if approached in a calm and rational way. There was always a logical explanation for things. Okay, so the man on the beach was an anomaly.

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