Demon Mistress
Page 18

I unlocked the door and flipped on the light. There was no TV; this was a holding pen for enemies, not a hotel room. Television wouldn’t work here, anyway. The magical wards interfered with reception. Neither could radio waves get through, nor cell phones. A regular telephone worked, but we didn’t have one installed. Again, enemies don’t need an outside line.
Delilah looked around and let out a sigh. “This is the drab-best place I’ve ever seen. Good gods, the walls are olive green, and the light looks like an interrogation lamp right out of a fifties film noir movie. How did Vanzir stand it?”
“He managed, and so will you. It’s only going to be for a little while.” Camille dropped an armful of Delilah’s bags on the sofa. “You’ve got books, and I brought your laptop. You won’t be able to get through to the Net here, but you can play games on it.”
Roz glanced around as he unloaded the rest of Delilah’s gear onto the floor. “Vanzir was telling the truth. There’s no way I could jump out into the Ionyc Sea from here, either.”
“Good,” I said. “It’s secure, then.”
“Listen, I was thinking,” Delilah said. “You need to call Tim and get the Supe Community rolls from him. Set up a phone tree and warn all the major Supe groups about the Karsetii. If that thing targets the Fae and elves, we need to make sure to warn everyone. Whatever good that will do. The demon’s one big bad bitch.”
“Good idea,” I said. “I’ll call him as soon as I go back upstairs.” I spread a sheet over the sofa as Camille shook out a blanket and fluffed up a pillow.
Delilah set her laptop on the small table in the corner under the light, then crawled under the table to plug it in. She was covered with dust bunnies when she stood up again. She gave me a scathing look.
“Can’t you at least clean this joint now and then?” She wandered into the bathroom. It was little more than a cubicle with a toilet, a shower, and a pedestal sink, but at least everything worked.
Camille tossed her a towel and some soap. “Here. I remembered to bring shampoo and conditioner, too, along with your favorites.” She held up a big bag of crunchy Cheetos and a box of Hostess powdered-sugar donuts.
Delilah gave her a big grin. “You’re the best big sister anybody could ask for, you know that?” She turned to me. “Can you let Chase know where I’m staying and why?”
“Yeah, but if he comes over to visit, he’ll need to ask for me. I’m not telling Luke or Chrysandra what we’re doing down here. They don’t need to know. For one thing, it would put them in jeopardy. For another, we don’t want to advertise your presence.”
“Speaking of which, Chase is due over for dinner tomorrow night. Cancel for me, would you? Somehow I doubt if we’ll be in the mood to sit around eating spaghetti.” She sighed and sat down on the sofa. “At least it’s comfortable, and the room has a good light and plenty of ventilation, but it’s still a cage.”
Camille kissed her softly on the forehead. “We know . . . we know. But this is for your own protection. If we don’t have to worry about the demon getting at you, we can focus on hunting down and destroying the main hive mother. It won’t be for long.”
“Camille’s right, Kitten.” I stroked her hair. “The less we have to worry about you, the quicker we can get you out of here. Think of it like being kenneled for a night. Speaking of which, did you bring your litter box?”
“Damn it, I knew I forgot something,” she said, her shoulders slumping.
“I’ll get you one,” I said as Camille and I headed for the door. “I’ll be down in a while with a box, some litter, and something hot for you to eat.”
As we shut the door and locked it, Camille turned to me. “I hate this.”
“So do I, but what else can we do? That creepy crawler has her energy signature, and it’s probably trying to track her right now. I just hope it doesn’t openly attack my patrons if it manages to follow her scent here.”
“At least it’s almost closing time, and you won’t have to worry about that till tomorrow. I’ve got to get some sleep,” Camille said as we headed up to the main floor. Luke was gone, and the bar was clean and closed for the night.
Camille yawned. “All right then, I’m going to crash on the cot upstairs, the one in Sabele’s old room.”
I nodded. “I’ve got some things I want to check out, and I’ve got to pick up a litter box for Delilah. Roz, stay here and guard Camille. And be careful, dude. Fingers in the wrong place, and you’ll be nursing a broken nose again, and not from me.”
He snorted. “Hey, my fingers are never in the wrong place. It’s all a matter of timing.” At Camille’s scathing look, he held up his hands. “No problem, the timing isn’t right tonight. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Right,” Camille said, but she grinned and wearily began climbing the stairs to the second floor. “Good night. Menolly, wake me before you head home so I can snag a ride with you.”
I showed them how to set the security system, hoping to hell Roz would mind his manners. Smoky wasn’t above cooking and eating his rivals. Even though the others made light of his threats, I knew him well enough now to know that he meant business when it came to my sister.
Before I left the bar, I called Chase at the FH-CSI building. Since he was sleeping there, he’d pick up.
“Chase? This is Menolly. Listen, I have a couple of quick questions.”
Chase cleared his throat, sounding groggy. “I was sleeping, but sure. Go for it. It’s only . . . what . . . three in the morning.”
I had less than three hours to go before sunrise, which meant I had about two and a half hours before I had to be back to collect Camille and get home to my lair.
“What’s Harold’s address again? I want to run by there and check on things.” I grabbed a pen and pad of paper from behind the counter.
“Why? What are you planning on doing?” Chase sounded suspicious.
I grinned at the phone. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to put the bite on him just yet. I just want to see if I can sense anything going on. I promise, I’ll leave him alive. And with all his blood.”
Chase sighed but put me on hold. When he came back to the phone, he gave me the address. I jotted it down and tore the paper off, sticking it in the pocket of my jeans.
“By the way, Delilah is staying at the bar for now in the panic room. That demon that tried to latch onto her earlier at the club? Well, it tracked her down. When we arrived home, it attacked her again. We managed to drive it off, but we can’t trust that she’ll be okay unless she’s in a place that’s impervious to magic and astral creatures.”
“Motherfucking son of a bitch.” Chase cleared his throat. “So, will she be safe there?”
“Yeah, for now, but listen—we don’t want to advertise her presence here. So if you want to visit her tomorrow, wait till after sunset when I come down to the bar. That way I can let you in without anybody being the wiser. Unless we catch this demon before dinner tomorrow night, consider dinner on hold until later.” I glanced at the clock. “I’m going to take off. I also want to see if my contact is willing to front me a guest invitation to the Clockwork Club.”
After a quick sign-off, I motioned to Roz, who was sitting in a booth, waiting for me to leave so he could lock up. He slid out from the seat and wandered over to the counter.
“I’m heading out.” I swept my braids back from my face. “I shouldn’t be running into trouble, but in case something happens, call Chase. He’ll know where I’ve gone. And also Sassy Branson. Camille can check with her.”
I glanced around the silent room. The Wayfarer had become like a home away from home for me. I loved my job here. Sure, it was a cover, but I got to meet people, I enjoyed the hustle of the bar, and it kept me in the various loops as far as information went.
Roz stopped me, his hand lightly covering my wrist. “A moment before you go. I won’t take long.”
“What is it?” I glanced up at him, at his long, dark, unruly hair that brushed the top of his shoulder blades, at the jet eyes gleaming against his pale skin. His lips were crooked, but in a playful manner, and he gazed at me, searching for something.
“I know you think I’m always just out for sex, and usually I am. I’m an incubus. It’s what I do,” he said.
I frowned. Where was he taking this, and why? And why now?
He leaned down so his words were a bare whisper. “Can’t you feel the sparks between us? I don’t want to deny my attraction for you anymore. And before you bring up Nerissa, I know she’s your lover. I’m not looking to supplant her. I’ll never be good for anyone that way again. Not as a one-and-only, not as a husband. Not even as a steady beau. If that were the case, I’d still be with Fraale, and you saw just how well that worked out.”
Fraale was his ex-wife. Centuries ago, the gods played havoc with their lives, turning them into a succubus and an incubus. It tore apart their relationship, and while they still loved each other, Rozurial knew it was hopeless, while Fraale still kept her torch burning.
“I know.” I deliberately let out a sigh. The situation just seemed to call for it. “And I’m sorry. You two . . . you belong together—”
“No, not now.” He shook his head. “Not ever again. We’ve been through too much. With me out of the picture, she doesn’t have to deal with the constant reminder of what we used to have. Of who I used to be. Of who she used to be. Much better to just leave the past in the past. You, of all people, should know that.” He stepped closer, so we were bare inches apart.
I knew exactly what he was talking about. Before I’d been turned into a vampire, my own past had been hopeful, a life ahead of me that didn’t include demons or walking among the dead or drinking blood.
But there was no going back. Even if by some miracle Roz or I happened to revert to our former states, we’d still carry the memories of what made us who we were in the present. We could never return to simpler times. The past was dead, and better it stay that way.
“I know. Trust me, I do know.” I let my gaze linger on his and found myself wanting to reach up, to kiss him.
What would be the harm? Who would we hurt? Camille and Delilah weren’t interested in Rozurial as a lover. Nerissa and I agreed to be exclusive in gender, not as lovers per se. Jareth—the only other man I’d touched since before Dredge—was back in Otherworld, in Aladril, the City of Seers. And sex with him had been more of a thank-you than anything else.
So why was I hesitating? Was I afraid I’d get hooked on the incubus? We’d kissed before, true, but it had been playful, almost buddy-buddy-like. This time, I knew it would be for real.
I listened to the clock tick away the seconds, then made my decision. I let myself hover a few inches off the ground and leaned in.
A shock wave ricocheted through me as he gathered me into his arms, his tongue seeking entrance. Every nerve in my body flared, burned by the wave of pure sex that emanated from his touch. The fire sparked off my own ravenous hunger to fuck, to feed, to drink deeply.
Rozurial’s eyes deepened, the violent brown turning jet black as he held me. His hands weren’t moving, and yet it felt like he was touching every inch of my body. As the kiss deepened, I fell—dark and wild—into the passion that swelled from his aura to encompass me.
Tumbling so deeply, I realized that this was why men feared incubi. One kiss, and their women would race off, following the holy grail of sex that promised to leave them exhausted and drained and satisfied in a way they’d never before managed to reach. Was this what Trillian had done to Camille? Was the Svartan charm as powerful as the kiss of an incubus? If so, I knew why my sister would never, ever walk away from him again.
And then Roz let go and gently pushed me back. He looked triumphant and delighted and thoroughly ready for more. But all he said was, “You have work to do before the dawn. This is just the start, my Menolly. You and I have an appointment to keep. We’re both demons, creatures of the night, creatures of the blood. You drink it, and I stir it. Together, we’ll rock the world.”
With that, he pushed me out the door, and I heard him arm the security system. My stomach fluttered. Thirst parching my throat, I stood there, staring at the door, thinking I’d just opened my very own Pandora’s box.
CHAPTER 15
The streets were dry and dark. A warm front was drifting through, keeping the smog low and thick. The wind remained silent, and there was nothing to blow away the taste of exhaust and grit that filtered through the air.
I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, but Chase’s words had stuck in the back of my mind. They’d found the latest body near Harold Young’s house, and Harold Young had been stalking Sabele.
One thing was for sure: Harold lived in a pricey neighborhood. When I was a block from his house, I slid out of Camille’s Lexus, locked it, and headed out on foot. The sidewalks were empty, and most of the house lights were off. I might as well be a ghost or a character in some slumbering dream. As I silently passed through the maple-lined streets, keeping to the shadows, the soft whisper of leaves brushed against my shoulders, the only sign that I’d been there.
Reading the house numbers was problematic, especially with the Moon setting, but it took me mere seconds to glance at the mailboxes, and when I reached two houses away, I slowed.
Harold lived in one hell of a big house, but it wasn’t as tidy as its neighbors, and several cars and a van lined the driveway that extended off the street toward the back of the house. I found the mailbox by the side of the road and glanced at the names, using a penlight to guide me. Harold Young, all right, along with a half-dozen other men’s names. So Harold had roommates.