Something Wicked

by Michelle Rowen

  He watched her curiously.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” Eden cleared her throat and decided to focus on something else. Something a bit safer. “Andy, you seem rather chipper today.”

  “I am chipper,” he confirmed.

  “So . . . you’re okay with all of this? Everything that happened to you?”

  He blinked. “You mean being bitten and mauled by a werewolf, infected with lycanthropy, and at risk of becoming a werewolf, myself?”

  “That would pretty much cover it, yes.”

  Andy pressed his palms against the edge of his desk and stood up from his chair. “I’ve decided it’s not going to happen to me.”

  Eden frowned. “Not going to happen?”

  “That’s right. It’s all about mind over matter. I don’t want to be a werewolf. Therefore, I won’t be one. Easy.”

  Eden and Darrak exchanged a glance.

  “Not sure it works that way, Andy,” Darrak said. “But if you just—”

  Andy held up a hand. “Anyway, like you noticed, I’m feeling terrific today. Better than ever, actually. Nothing like a brush with death to make you really start to appreciate life.”

  Terrific, Eden thought with a sinking feeling. He’s in complete denial.

  It didn’t help that all of his wounds had healed, leaving no scars or marks behind. Denial would be much trickier with stitches, broken bones, and bite marks.

  No, Andy had healed up perfectly. In fact, he looked younger than he had before. He could easily pass for forty now, instead of nearly fifty. His blond hair looked healthier. His skin was less lined—even when he smiled the wrinkles that used to fan out around his eyes had lessened significantly. His body looked fit and lean.

  “You look good,” she admitted.

  “I’ve never felt so good in my life. You know what this means, right?”

  “That you’ve been infected with lycanthropy and you’re due to turn into a werewolf in two weeks?” Darrak asked, then glanced at a desk calendar. “Actually, make that twelve days.”

  Andy’s expression tightened. “No. It means that we should go out and celebrate.”

  “Celebrate?” Eden asked.

  “The fact we’re all alive and well. The fact we’re together. Friends you can trust are few and far between.”

  Eden glanced at Darrak. He hadn’t spoken about Theo, but she knew his friend’s death had hit him hard. Theo had killed Graham, so she wasn’t sorry he was gone, but she did empathize with Darrak’s pain.

  “You’re right,” she said. “Friends are something to celebrate.”

  “How about breakfast? I’ll treat. There’s that buffet around the corner I’ve been meaning to try. I’ve never been so hungry in my life, and Nancy’s coffee and donuts aren’t going to cut it this morning. Besides, she called in sick today so the coffee probably won’t even be as good as it normally is.”

  Yeah, Eden thought. She’s recovering from nearly becoming a snack for a demon lord. That’s definitely worth using a sick day for.

  “Sounds fantastic,” Darrak said. “Buffets are all you can eat?”

  “They are.”

  “Do they have chocolate donuts?”

  “They might have some chocolate croissants, which, trust me, are even better.” Andy grabbed his coat from the rack and put it on. “Then we can discuss our case load. We’ve all been slacking this week so things are building up. A couple of fairy clients have been calling nonstop. Fairy folk are very persistent. Anyway, I’ll meet you outside.”

  The bell on the door jingled as he left the office without giving them a chance to say anything in reply.

  “Denial,” Darrak said.

  “Big-time denial.”

  “Twelve days till the next full moon.”

  Eden nodded. “I have it circled on my calendar. And until then?”

  “He should be okay. But you might want to invest in a leash and muzzle. Possibly some doggy treats.”

  Eden smiled despite herself. “Great.”

  As she turned toward the door to follow Andy, Darrak grabbed her wrist.

  “Eden . . .” he began.

  She looked up at him. “That’s my name.”

  “When the wizard master gets back from his tropical vacation, we’ll talk to him. And we could also try summoning another demon to help—”

  She shuddered. “No more demons.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  “Lucas said there’s no way to break the curse. We’re stuck like this.”

  “He’s been known to lie,” he said. “Demons tend to do that a lot.”

  “Oh, I’m well aware of that.”

  The Malleus couldn’t help them, she’d already seen what they considered “help.” She hoped she’d never hear from Ben or Oliver or Sandy ever again, but she wasn’t holding her breath. She’d continue to be aware of anyone approaching her carrying a syringe full of tranquilizers.

  She’d told Darrak what Lucas said about her not having a death sentence from his possession anymore. While he knew what he was drawing on was celestial energy, he was unaware that it was turning him more angelic with every passing day.

  He wouldn’t like that very much.

  All she knew for sure was that they’d keep looking for a way to break Darrak’s curse. Even if it took forever. After all, being immortal, she did have time on her side now.

  Darrak drew closer to her until she could feel the warmth from his body. He was still extra-hot after his fire-filled brush with destruction yesterday.

  He was pretty hot to begin with.

  “Okay,” he said. “No more demons. Besides, they’d never understand what we have between us.”

  She raised her eyebrows and looked up at him. “Oh? And what’s that?”

  Darrak slid his arm around her, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back. His lips twitched into a wry smile. “Something that scares the hell right out of me.”

  Eden couldn’t help but grin back at him—her personal demon, who was now just a little bit angel as well.

  “That makes two of us,” she said.

  Turn the page for a special preview

  of the next Living in Eden novel

  THAT OLD BLACK MAGIC

  Coming soon from Berkley Sensation!

  ONE

  Eden was in big trouble.

  From the moment she woke, she’d felt the unrequested tingle of magic moving down her arms and sparking off her fingertips. This was a problem. She didn’t allow herself to tap into her powers despite it being a constant itch for her. Magic—at least, her magic—came with dire consequences.

  A cold trickle of perspiration slid down her spine as she hid her hands behind her back so Darrak wouldn’t notice. But it was only a matter of time. The demon was very observant.

  “Okay,” Darrak said, sitting shirtless at the tiny dinette table in her tiny apartment, the daily newspaper spread out in front of him in a scatter of pages. “Here’s your horoscope for today. Ready to hear your ultimate fate?”

  Eden cleared her throat. “Uh, sure.”

  “Pisces. Sexy little fish girl.” He grinned at her as he absently raked his messy dark hair back from his forehead.

  Nice to see that one of them was in a stellar mood this morning. She grudgingly smiled back at him. “That’s me.”

  “Be prepared for a blast from the past as an old acquaintance wants to reconnect. Do what you can to accommodate them because your destinies are irreversibly intertwined. Also, buy more peanut butter since you’re completely out and it’s an important nutritional staple in your favorite demon’s diet.”

  She nodded. “Let me take a wild guess here. You added the last part yourself.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

  “I’ll put it on my grocery list.”

  “Life is good.” He studied her for a moment before his grin began to fade. “What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all. Everythin
g’s wonderful. Fabulous, in fact.”

  “Overcompensating in your reply only leads me to believe that something is seriously wrong.” He stood up from the table, and the horoscope page fluttered to the carpeted floor. His brows drew together. “What’s bothering you?”

  She was surprised how quickly he could switch from amusement over some silly human thing like a horoscope or a craving for peanut butter to deep concern for her well-being.

  “It’s nothing. Really.” She forced another smile, and her gaze moved over his bare chest. “You need to get dressed. We have to leave for the office.”

  Without any movement or visible concentration, black jersey material suddenly flowed over Darrak’s skin. Since he’d come into her life a month ago, she’d wanted to take him shopping at the mall, but other than the coat he occasionally wore—short sleeves here in Toronto in chilly November might be a tip-off that he was less than human—he magically conjured his own clothing, which solely consisted of black jeans and black T-shirts.

  “I need to brush my teeth and then we can go.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her navy blue pants and turned away from him.

  He caught her arm. “It’s your magic, isn’t it?”

  She tensed. “My magic?”

  “I can feel it, you know. Right now. It’s coming off you in waves.”

  He was even more observant than she thought. “We need to get going.”

  She shrugged away from him, then grabbed her purse hanging off the back of one of the dinette chairs so she could fish into it for her new BlackBerry. She didn’t want or need the fancy cell phone, but Andy McCoy, her partner at the investigation agency they co-owned, insisted they become more technically savvy now that their case load had increased. Triple-A had been on the brink of bankruptcy a month ago, but now it was busy enough for them to consider hiring extra help.

  The sudden surge in business was directly related to Darrak coming into Eden’s life. While working as a psychic consultant for the police, she’d been possessed by the cursed demon after being present at the death of his previous host, a serial killer gunned down by a police detective right in front of her. It had been a fifty-fifty chance that he’d choose Eden as his new host.

  Thanks to her psychic energy he was able to take solid human form during daylight hours. But when the sun set, he became incorporeal and had to possess her body. It wasn’t an ideal situation, to say the least, but Eden had made what peace she could with it. She’d recently had the chance to end his need to possess her, but it would have destroyed him completely. She didn’t want to hurt him. Her privacy was a great motivator to find a solution to their problem, but not if it came with such an expensive price tag.

  Unfortunately, all roads in their search for mutually beneficial separation had led to dead ends. Some deader than others.

  When Darrak first took solid form, he’d created a supernatural hot spot on the location of Triple-A, which meant Others, those who were not human, were drawn there automatically as the go-to agency for paranormal investigation. Although the current cases included standard investigations such as cheating spouses, the clients were very nonstandard werewolves, fairies, and witches—beings who lived side by side with unsuspecting humans.

  “What?” Eden said, feeling the burn of Darrak’s close scrutiny. She finally tore her gaze away from the small screen of the phone to look at him. Her tight grip on the device increased at seeing the searching look in his ice blue eyes. “Darrak, I said nothing’s wrong.”

  “Your phone is on fire.”

  She looked down to see that a spark from her magic had ignited her BlackBerry. She shrieked and threw it away from her. It skittered across the breakfast bar and landed with a thunk in the kitchen sink. “Damn.”

  She didn’t have a chance to move before Darrak was right in front of her. He pulled out the chain she wore around her neck so her amulet lay flat against her white shirt.

  “It’s darker than it was yesterday.” It sounded like an accusation.

  She clamped her hand over the visible state of her soul. It was quite simple, really. The more she used her magic, the more damage it did. A black witch started with a pure white soul, but it grew darker and darker every time she accessed her very accessible black magic. Eden’s amulet was currently pale gray, but it had darker veins moving through it, making it look like a piece of marble.

  She shook her head. “I haven’t done anything.”

  “Then what are these?” He brushed her hand aside and slid his index finger over the veins.

  “A glitch.”

  “A glitch,” he repeated skeptically. “Not sure it works like that.”

  “Then I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Eden”—all amusement was gone from his voice—“I’m worried about you.”

  She might normally laugh, but she didn’t. A demon from Hell worried about the state of her immortal soul. It sounded like a joke. But Darrak wasn’t any normal demon. And she wasn’t any normal black witch.

  Once upon a time, Darrak had been just as bad as any demon who ever existed—as immoral as he was immortal, sadistic, selfish, manipulative, and deadly. He’d even conspired with a demonic pal to overthrow Lucifer in an attempt to take his power. They hadn’t succeeded.

  Darrak was summoned to the human world by a witch over three hundred years ago and cursed, forcing him to possess humans ever since. A side effect of this was that he’d absorbed humanity, and it had infused his being. The demon had slowly developed a conscience. Morals. A sense of right and wrong.

  In addition to being a black witch, Eden had recently learned she was a nephilim—human mother, angel father. By possessing her, Darrak had absorbed the celestial energy she hadn’t even realized she had. A lot of it. And slowly—very slowly—if he continued to soak up that heavenly essence that she naturally had inside of her . . . well . . .

  The once evil and unrepentant demon would find himself a bit more . . . angelic. Whether or not he wanted to be.

  Eden hadn’t shared this recent revelation with him. While Darrak had acknowledged that he’d changed permanently from his dark past and was a bit more open-minded about his infusion of humanity, he had no idea about the celestial side effects of living in Eden. Frankly, Eden didn’t think it was such a bad thing. But she knew Darrak. It would shake his confidence, not to mention his identity, and both were already shaky enough as it was.

  She was waiting for the right time to break the news to him.

  This was not the right time.

  “Eden,” Darrak prompted sharply. “Are you going to talk to me or what?”

  “Oh, you mean I have a choice here?”

  “No. No choices. This is not a choose-your-own-adventure novel. Your amulet is darkening, and you say you’re doing nothing to cause this. Is that right?”

  Her eyes burned. She didn’t want to deal with this, but sometimes fate didn’t give you a chance to catch your breath before it threw another bucket of water in your face.

  She pulled her hands out of her pockets and looked at them. “I can feel it this morning. Even stronger than before. It’s right here waiting to be used. I—I don’t know if I can control it.”

  “But you want to control it.”

  “Of course I do.”

  He took her hands in his and stared down at her palms for so long she thought he was going to tell her fortune. “I knew it wasn’t going to be long before this became an issue.”

  She looked up at him with surprise. “You did?”

  “Black magic is tricky stuff. It’s like it has a mind of its own. I’m not used to helping black witches, of course. You’re the exception to the rule. But I’ve been thinking long and hard about what to do when this became more of a problem for you. I’ve come up with a plan. I think.”

  “That sounds rather . . . vague.” She shook her head. “I mean, maybe I should just give into it now and then. The itch is so hard to ignore. It’s like a drug I’m addicted to. And if I make a conscious
effort not to do anything evil with it, then maybe I can—”

  “Eden,” he said. “Don’t be naughty.”

  She laughed despite herself. “Advice from a demon not to be naughty?”

  “I know. It’s fairly ridiculous. But I can’t help how I feel.”

  “And how’s that?”

  He stroked a long piece of auburn hair off her forehead, tucked it behind her ear, then cupped her face gently between his hands. “Troubled.”

  She touched his hand but didn’t pull away from him. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You think you can handle this because you’ve had to handle everything else that’s been thrown at you all of your life. But this is different. This is bigger and stronger and full of venom, and it’s trapped inside of you so I can’t protect you from it.” He swore under his breath. “I wish I could think of a better way to deal with this, but I can’t, so that’s just the way it’s going to have to be.”

  “What way is that?”

  He looked directly into her eyes. “It’s time to get some outside help.”

  “Outside of what?”

  “Outside of us.” He walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed the cordless phone.

  “Who are you calling?”

  He held a finger up to her. She sighed and flopped down on a chair at the table, already exhausted by talking about something she would have preferred to just ignore, magically charred BlackBerrys or not.

  “Stanley?” he said after a moment. “Do you know who this is?” A pause. “No, it’s okay. Don’t be scared. I’m not going to kill you.” Another pause. “Seriously, I’m not. Stop crying. Be a man.”

  Eden cringed. This didn’t fill her with confidence. Stanley worked for just about any supernatural creature who paid or threatened him. He also created lust potions so desperate, lonely women would find him more attractive and have sex with him. All in all, he wasn’t Eden’s favorite guy in the city.

  “Is he back?” Darrak asked. “He is? Why didn’t you let me know this? Stop crying.”

  Eden’s hands were still tingling. She honestly wished the black magic felt bad, but it didn’t. It was so tempting to throw out a spell right here, right now. Witches came in a few varieties—the good and beneficial white witches, who worked with nature and animals and read spells from books. Gray witches, who blended both nature magic and destructive magic, and had the control to do this successfully. And, of course, black witches who could effortlessly use their magic—usually to destroy or cause harm—with a mere thought. So easy. Too easy.