Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld Page 32

  What in the world would he possibly be doing with vegetables and electrical cord?

  “No, I mean yes. Would you just get the fu— the heck out of my way? I’m serious. I need to work.” Asta’s frustration peaked until all the emotions she’d bottled up boiled over. It might be unfair, but she wanted to punch Dar right in his beautiful face.

  “Can I kiss you?” His voice was warm and seductive, a boyish smile giving his words a hopeful touch. “One kiss. No tongue. Well, maybe some tongue, but not a lot. One little kiss and I’ll leave you alone for the evening.”

  “You. . . .” Her voice choked, unable to find the words to even complete a sentence.

  The demon didn’t seem to have the same problem. His grip on her hand tightened, his thumb lightly caressing her knuckles. “Yep, me. I’m a demon, after all. I’m guessing you’re not going to come see that blues band with me tonight, so I might as well have a little kiss to think of while I’m whacking off all alone in my hotel room.”

  Argh! He’s such a pain in the posterior. Dar leaned close to her, and she shoved. It was like trying to push a brick wall. He might be younger and a few inches shorter than her, but he was solid. “I’m done playing. Leave me alone, right now.”

  “Or what?”

  She felt his breath against her face, saw the silver in his gray eyes. Again she pushed to no avail.

  “Is this guy bothering you?”

  The bouncer’s concern faded into a buzz of sound, and everything became tinged with red as the glass shattered in Asta’s hand. Giving up on shoving, she reached for Dar, but he jumped backward, away from her.

  This was it. She was done with this pesky, annoying demon. He might look good enough to ruin her vibration level in that suit, but she was going to smash his face in. No matter how he tempted her with his food and music suggestions, she wasn’t about to ruin a perfect service record by ditching her job in the last week.

  He’s tempting you with more than food and music, a little voice admonished. It was true, but her curiosity over what it would be like to kiss him didn’t negate her strong desire to beat him to a bloody pulp. She could hardly do that in the middle of a swank reception — or in front of the bouncer. No, better to be subtle and take the demon to where no one could observe, and then punch him senseless. Irritating, annoying demon.

  Liar, that voice deep inside chastised. Dar’s teasing had been more flattering than irritating, as had his persistent nearness since sunrise. He was clever, funny, and she was pretty sure his outrageous flirting held more than just a demon’s drive to drag others into the pit of debauchery. She saw it in his eyes, the attraction combined with respect. Yes, she liked his attentions, but he was still pissing her off, and physical confrontation held an edge of sexual excitement that she didn’t fully want to admit to at the moment.

  They continued the dance, him backward with each step she advanced, always evading her grasp. Reaching the hallway, he darted into the elevator, inexplicably holding it open for her to join him.

  It was full of humans. They were fairly intoxicated. Asta considered enthralling them then bashing the brains out of the smug demon next to her, but her skill in that area was tenuous at best. In her state of anger, it was unlikely she could entrance an insect.

  Once outside, Asta followed Dar around a corner and grabbed him, flinging him against the wall with all her might. The demon’s back crashed against the stucco. He left an imprint of his shape as he peeled himself from the building. Before he could move more than a foot, she was on him again, flinging him to the other side of the alley. This time, he managed to hold onto her, and she stumbled forward, tumbling over him with the force of her momentum. They rolled, coming to an abrupt halt against the curb, the demon on top.

  “Forget the blues band, how about we head to Millennium Park for an outdoor concert? Or we throw coins in Buckingham Fountain? Or ride the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier?”

  The Ferris wheel. Her anger evaporated, and she felt a sting of tears. It had been constructed soon after she’d arrived from Aaru, and she’d always wanted to take a ride. Stupid job. Stupid demons. Why couldn’t she take one damned evening off and have a little fun before she went home?

  “Hey. It’s okay.” Dar’s voice was soft and gentle. She closed her eyes, unable to look at him until she got a grip on her emotions. “Really. We can do it some other time. It’s not like you’re leaving tomorrow or anything.”

  That made her want to cry even more. She only had a few more days, and this demon was only reminding her how much she’d missed out on in her hundred years.

  Her eyes flew open as she felt him shift off her. Extending a hand, he pulled her to her feet, sliding his hands around her waist. “I don’t understand. Is it the Ferris wheel? You don’t like them? Is this like the thing with the rats? We don’t have to do that. Tell you what, we’ll combine work and pleasure. I’ll tell you all about the demon plot while we sip martinis at a bar.”

  Asta hesitated. He was being so kind, so un-demonic. She did want to ride the Ferris wheel with him, sip a margarita while she eyed this handsome demon over the salt-crusted rim. He’d say all sorts of outrageous things, and she’d laugh in spite of herself, throwing right order and her vibration levels to the winds. The idea appealed more to her than he’d probably ever know, but he was a demon, and she was an angel. And there was work.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. It’s just been a really stressful hundred years.”

  He smiled, and she barely resisted the urge to reach out and stroke his face, to rub her thumb along his bottom lip.

  “Come out with me. I’m pretty sure you deserve one night off after one-hundred years.”

  “I can’t. I really, really want to, but I just can’t.” She didn’t need to feign the regret. I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.

  “You’re making the biggest mistake of your life.”

  She jumped at his words, wondering if he could read her mind, or if her emotions were that transparent. Dar sighed, tightening his grasp of her waist. “You angels are fucking slave drivers when it comes to duty and responsibility. Well, if I can’t spend the evening with you, I’ll have to go with plan B.”

  Before she could even wonder what plan B was, his lips were against hers. It wasn’t the sort of kiss she’d ever expected from a demon — not that she’d ever envisioned herself kissing one. His mouth was gentle and tender, barely a caress. His lips explored hers, then he lifted his head from hers, tugging her bottom lip with a hint of teeth.

  “Goodnight, Asta,” he whispered.

  It had been over too fast for her to stop it. She’d been too surprised to resist. Liar. All she wanted was for him to kiss her again. That wasn’t something she was willing to admit, so, instead, she summoned up the dredges of her long-cooled temper and pushed him aside. “Go to Hel.”

  “Eventually. Right now I’m having too much fun.”

  She shook her head, unable to resist returning his smile. Looking down, she saw their tussle in the alley had torn her pants. Another pair of pants ruined by this infernal demon. If he stuck around the rest of the week, she probably wouldn’t have a stitch of apparel left intact. The thought should have pissed her off, but, for the first time in the last century, she found she really didn’t give a flying leap about the state of her precious clothing. It’s not like she’d be taking it with her to Aaru, and the last twenty-four hours with this demon had been far more exciting than even a Versace dress could ever be.

  ‘Goodnight’, he’d said. He was done playing and was ready to let her focus on her work. The thought was like a cold breeze across her skin. She didn’t want him to leave, and she sure as heck didn’t want to work. She’d rather go with him to see the blues band.

  “Tomorrow we’ll discuss what you know about the demon plot. Meet me at the convention center, and you can help me find this guy.” It was the perfect excuse to spend more time with him.

  His smile broadened, becoming rather predat
ory. “I’ll be there, and I’ll help, but it’ll cost you.”

  She doubted an evening in a blues club was all he would want. Or a somewhat chaste kiss in a dark alley. Was she really willing to take this further? Could she lie to herself about her motives as the level of sin passed minor into mortal?

  One week. Less than one week, and she’d be gone. If her path to salvation was so fragile that she couldn’t push the boundaries a bit, then so be it.

  “We’ll discuss terms tomorrow. Now get out of here, so I can do my job.” She’d meant to sound firm, resolved and strong. Instead, the words were those of someone who’d just dropped her ice cream into the gutter.

  “Okay.” His eyes were warm as they met hers, and she felt her resolve waver. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She’d expected more sass, more innuendo, but he complied with her demand. Asta felt deflated and curiously disappointed as she realized he’d never even mentioned their kiss.

  Chapter 6

  Dar climbed through the broken window of the drycleaner and eyed the endless loops of plastic-clad hanging clothes. It was time to step up his game. This angel seemed to admire a well-dressed demon, and he enjoyed fine clothing. He’d left his suit last night in the alley, and it had been stolen by the time he had returned. Besides the one he had on, his only other clothing was a pair of khakis and a few t-shirts. If this angel liked suits, he was going to give her suits. Really, really expensive suits.

  What better place to score some nice threads then a pricey dry cleaner? Humans dropped off clothing and sometimes didn’t pick them up for weeks. A lost outfit or two wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. Theft wasn’t on the forbidden-activity list, but he’d pushed this angel pretty hard. It wasn’t beyond reason to think she’d decide any infraction of human law would warrant punishment. The idea was rather exciting. Hmm, what would an angel’s idea of suitable punishment be?

  Damn. That line of thinking was making him want to head back down State Street and see how far he could take things with her. He’d promised to leave her be tonight, and as hot and bothered as he was, Dar knew the best way to reel this angel in was to let her miss him a little. Instead, he’d do a bit of five-finger discount shopping, find a hotel more suitable for seducing an angel than the dump he was holed up in, then plan how he was going to get her up there.

  After masturbating like a crazed monkey.

  Damn, she was beautiful. And the fact she seemed reluctant to kill him was a plus. It would have been simple for her to lie and claim he’d violated the terms of his immunity. It would be her word against a deceased demon’s. The mystery of why she hadn’t killed him was just as intriguing as her mile-long legs. And their back and forth today.

  Dar snorted with laughter as he remembered the look on her face after he’d kissed her. This angel liked him. He’d seen the way she’d watched him last night, felt the way she had moved her body against his — and had definitely felt the way she’d explored his spirit-being. She’d been a hair’s breadth from losing control, and he’d gone to sleep last night with a serious case of blue balls. Hopefully tonight she’d sleep just as restlessly, tossing and turning as she dreamed of him.

  She was gorgeous. Plus she radiated fiery emotion, sweet kindness, unexpected humor — he’d never thought angels could be so volatile, so mesmerizing.

  Ain’t love grand? Well, maybe not love, but this weird fascination with someone powerful enough to kill him was pretty close. Now, to find the right outfit for wooing an angel.

  Not these shitty wedding dresses with their eighty yards of fabric and fake pearls. There had to have been a thousand of them spinning by as Dar cycled the loop of clothes around. Why did humans think such a voluminous dress would be suitable for pledging eternal love? Humans should get married naked. In fact, the guests should be naked too. Or forced to wear French-maid outfits.

  Finally, the endless procession of wedding dresses, and equally vile prom dresses, passed by and the men’s clothing began to circle around. He’d need a suit that was dapper, that reflected his sly nature. He needed a suit that wasn’t quite designer, that was edgy but with classic lines. Actually, he’d need several of them.

  By the time Dar left the drycleaners, he had four suits, a handful of lightly starched shirts, and two pairs of jeans. It was a lucky break that some dude was insane enough to actually send his jeans to the drycleaners, otherwise he would have been stuck looking like an advertising executive for the next few days. Shoplifting wasn’t beneath him, but he doubted he’d have time for visiting the mall beyond swiping a few extra pairs of shoes. There was way too much on his agenda already.

  Starting with a better hotel than the one he’d crashed at last night. One near the convention he’d be forced to attend while courting Asta.

  Sauntering through the gilded sliding doors of a suitably ritzy looking hotel, Dar punched the up button at the elevator and whistled as he waited. There was a sign by the concierge welcoming Cybercon attendees. Well, that was easy. With the conference in town, it would be a walk in the park to score a top room. The elevator door opened, and Dar surveyed his options. With a quick bit of demon know-how he’d bypassed the security controls and found himself on the restricted twenty-fifth floor.

  There weren’t many rooms up here, since they all took up nearly as much real estate as a two-bedroom apartment. Dar ran his hand along the locks as he walked, figuring out which ones were coded for a current guest and which were empty. Ah. Bingo.

  Dar flicked on the lights and caught his breath. Wow, this was swank. The Chicago skyline framed dark blue couches, which faced a television nearly engulfing the entire wall. The kitchenette was an actual full-sized galley kitchen. The demon dumped his stolen clothing onto the round dining table and walked through the enormous suite. Every outside wall was an endless window, even the bathroom boasted a breathtaking view.

  “I’ve got to get her in here somehow.” It was a ridiculous thought, but not out of the realm of possibility given the last twenty-four hours. If last week someone had told him he’d be groped-up by an angel, or be kissing one, he would have thought them insane. She was an angel, and she’d already indulged in several minor sins. More importantly, she hadn’t ripped his head off when he’d kissed her. It was a promising start down an unknown path — one that excited him more than anything had in the last century. Dar walked back into the living area and snagged a bottle of gin from the bar — that was far from mini — and settled in to watch the sunrise over Lake Michigan and plan.

  Asta went back to the party after pacing the perimeter of the hotel and exploring every stairwell and side street searching for a trace of the demon. Where had he gone? Few demons had the ability to teleport. Even if this one had the skill, or some magical device that allowed him to transport himself in and out of Chicago, the way he faded in and out of the edges of her awareness didn’t seem like teleportation. It was almost as though he were hiding behind something. But what? And how?

  It was a mystery. And she just didn’t care. Her prey was gone without a trace, and she’d passed up a fun evening to prowl around the streets and come back to this boring roof-top party.

  It hadn’t been as boring with Dar there. Again, she thought of his jealousy over the human. He’d insisted she needed to try a lobster crepe. The stupid demon she was chasing was gone — her evening was pretty much ruined along with her pants. Might as well do something wicked.

  The crepe chef smiled at her, giving her that once-over that human men always seemed to do. She smiled back, thinking if Dar were here, he’d be threatening to shove various foodstuffs in the man’s rear end for looking at her that way. What was he doing? Had he gone to that blues band without her? Something like regret coursed through her. Here she was, chasing after a demon that clearly had vanished when she could be enjoying herself with Dar.

  She’d gone insane. Why should she be longing to ditch her job and listen to music with a demon? Why should she get a sick feeling in her stomach at the thought
of him off without her? This was her job, her duty. She’d see him in the morning. Sheesh, girl, grow a set.

  Oh my stars; this crepe thing was amazing. That first bite burst through her senses — crisp, paper-thin wrapper barely containing thick chunks of sweet lobster meat in a decadent cream sauce. The whole thing would have been sickeningly rich if not for the balancing mix of pepper and lemon. It was her first food, and it was possibly the most incredible thing she’d ever experienced.

  And she wished Dar was there. He’d understand her reaction. He’d revel in it. He’d give her a gleeful I-told-you-so then make her try a meatball. He should be here, but she’d sent him away so she could work.

  And now her longing and regret turned to a completely unfamiliar paranoia. Did Dar and the other demon know each other? Were they together right now, mocking her ineptitude? No — she’d not gotten that impression from Dar. He was irritating, teasing, tempting, but he’d seemed curious about the demon she was tracking, and far more interested in her than this cyber whatever tomorrow. Dar couldn’t be in league with him, could he?

  Demons lie. They betray. They are foul beings who de-evolve with every decade. Creation would be a better place if they were exterminated — wiped from existence. As much as she was attracted to Dar, she could never forget what he was and that he’d sell her out for the right price in an instant. Don’t trust him. Have your fun, but never let your guard down for him. He’ll betray you in a heartbeat.

  Maybe, but there was another voice in her head that countered her fears. The one who formed you was an Angel of Chaos — one of the rebels who fell. Surely some good must remain in the demons, some remnant of the angels they once were.

  Asta shook her head to rid herself of the pesky voices and took another bite of the luscious crepe. She was the youngest of the angels. She’d never met an Angel of Chaos. All she had to rely upon was the word of those Angels of Order who remained in Aaru. Yes, the demons she’d killed in the last century had been up to no good, but who was to say they were all like that?