Touch of the Angel (Demons of Infernum, #3)

by Rosalie Lario

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing toward her.

  Her eyes flew wide open, and her mouth dropped. “You fool. Why did you follow me?”

  “Something was obviously wrong. Tell me, what is it?”

  “Get out of here,” she said, her eyes narrowing.

  “Fine. But not before I make sure you’re safe. I’m not going to attack you or anything. Believe me, I don’t go where I’m not wanted.”

  Letting out a defeated sigh, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall once more. “It’s not that I don’t want you. If anything, I find you too attractive.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Amara shook her head. “Go home, Ronin. Find yourself a nice girl, one who can give you a home and babies. You’ll get nothing but trouble from me.”

  He tilted her chin up and her eyelids fluttered. “I don’t want those things. Right now, the only thing I want is to be here with you.”

  Her face softened and she breathed in deep, the rise and fall of her generous chest drawing his eyes downward. “You should leave. I’m...I’m no good for you.”

  She sounded as if she really meant that. Despite the smoking-hot outer package, he sensed how little regard she had for herself. “I don’t think you really want me to leave, do you?”

  Amara’s eyes skimmed his body, and he could tell from the way they glazed over and her mouth softened that he was right. She felt the attraction as much as he did.

  “What I want doesn’t matter,” she said with a spark of anger. “It’s never mattered.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “I know.” A hint of a tremor racked her body. “Trust me, it’s not worth figuring out. Just leave.”

  Her harsh words, so at odds with the way she leaned into him, confused the hell out of him. “Let me escort you home, at least. This is no place for someone like you.”

  She let out a low laugh, a harsh, broken sound. “I have to warn you, you’re really hard to resist.”

  So why was she? If she would at least tell him that much, he wouldn’t be stuck wondering for the rest of his life. “Maybe we can go—”

  She moaned deep in her throat and jumped him before he could finish his sentence, molding her body to his while she kissed him like he was the air she needed to breathe.

  He jerked away with a gasp for breath. “What the—”

  Amara pulled him to her once again, slanting her lips onto his. Her hands slid all over his body. Down the front of his slacks. He couldn’t help but harden.

  “I want you,” she moaned into his ear.

  “Wait—”

  “No.” Stepping back, she glanced around the hallway, then dragged him to a door with wide slats on it. It wasn’t locked. One twist and she tugged it open, revealing a tiny, packed storeroom.

  “Come on.” She led him inside and shut the door behind them. Tiny slivers of light from the door slats illuminated the space, casting an eerie glow over the entire area.

  “Tell me what’s going on, Amara.”

  Instead of answering, she pushed him back against the wall, kissing him passionately while she unzipped his slacks and tugged him free.

  “Slow down,” he said.

  “No. I don’t want to wait. I want you. I have from the moment I saw you.”

  His protest died when she dropped to her knees, taking him deep into her mouth. Her head moved up and down, expertly driving him to the brink of ecstasy. Clear thought was no longer possible. All he could do was feel.

  After some time she broke away and rose to her feet. He managed to get out the words “Are you okay?” but she didn’t seem to have heard his question.

  “I want you.” She slid the neckline of her dress a fraction to the side. That was all it took for her breasts to come free, torturing him with their dusky pink nipples.

  “Sweet devil, you’re beautiful.” Part of him knew he should protest, that she was moving way too fast, but he couldn’t resist. He pulled her closer and wrapped his hands around the curves of her ass, lifting her up so he could take one nipple, and then the other, into his mouth. Wine and chocolate had nothing on her. The woman tasted like no indulgence he’d ever had before. Like sin personified.

  She squirmed and her dress hiked farther up her body. Was she even wearing underwear?

  Amara answered that question a moment later when she broke free and stepped back. One quick upward tug of her hem and her lower body was fully bared to his view. Nope. No underwear.

  Ronin let out a harsh groan. She was mouthwatering, her long legs pointing the way to a patch of dark curls at the juncture of her thighs. His cock twitched at the sight of her luscious, nude body. Her eyes shimmered with lust but still, there was that sliver of sadness. It made him pause.

  “Slow down,” he tried again. “We can get to know each other first. We don’t have to—”

  “No.” She grabbed his hand and led him to a small, rickety chair. After tugging his pants to his knees, she forced him back onto the seat.

  Any words he might have said froze on his lips when she straddled him, using her hands to guide him to her center. She wiggled her hips and sat, impaling herself on him until he was seated to the hilt.

  She cried out, arching her back as her eyes rolled in ecstasy.

  Damn, but she was amazing. A bit fast, but amazing. Vulnerable somehow, in a way that was completely at odds with her promiscuity. Something about her called to him...

  “Amara,” he groaned. Her body was like molten fire, enveloping him and squeezing him like a fist. Then, when she began to pump her hips, lifting halfway off before sliding back down, he lost the ability to even breathe. His whole body had gone boneless, his arms and legs refusing to obey the commands of his brain. Flesh slapped against flesh, the sound echoing in the packed room.

  She was incredible. Even now, black spots formed in his vision and a ringing sound echoed in his ears. When he tried to grasp her hips, his hands wouldn’t cooperate. He could do nothing more than gasp while she rode him for all he was worth. She made soft, mewling sounds, arching her back as she worked him. So sexy. Her skin glistened from the effort, practically glowing in the dim light.

  Was this what those guys back at the bar had been fighting over? Had they sampled her before, enough to know how delicious she was? If so, he could see why there was such a crowd.

  Why the hell couldn’t he move? His limbs felt like Jell-O.

  He tried to lift his leg, but it was heavy as a wooden log. What was going on? He was getting weaker.

  “Stop.” His voice sounded far-off. Distant. “Stop.”

  He had to repeat it several times before she heard him. It was like a button had switched off inside her. She froze, her eyes clearing of their lusty haze and her jaw dropping in horror. Shaking hands reached up to cover her mouth. “Oh, no. Oh no, I told you. I warned you to leave me alone.”

  Amara slid off him. He watched her do it, watched her stare down at him with panic all over her face, but still he couldn’t move.

  Tears filled her eyes, a few stray drops weaving down her cheeks. “Why didn’t you listen to me?” she whispered.

  “What is it?” He all but forced the words to form on his tongue.

  After a moment she composed herself, rubbing at the tears with her knuckles before she pulled her skirt down and pushed her breasts back into her dress. “I warned you. Not my fault.”

  “What—what’s wrong with me?” The amount of energy it took to say those words was almost mind-boggling.

  She shook her head. Her lips tightened as if she were trying to seem uncaring. Trying and failing, if the moisture pooling in her eyes was any indication. “You never even bothered to find out what sort of demon I am.”

  This was bad. Seriously bad. He knew
that, but his body wasn’t reacting.

  “What kind?” he managed to choke out.

  “Succubus. What’s wrong with you is that you’re dying.”

  “But...but your energy. Too low for succubus.”

  She shook her head again, lifting one arm to show off her bracelet. “It’s made of fae gold. A gift from my boss. Among other things, it mutes my aura.” A bitter smile twisted her lips. “He’s found that to be helpful on more than one occasion.”

  With one last shake of her head, she turned and walked out, clicking the door shut behind her.

  Oh shit. This was so not good. Ronin tried to summon his healing energy, the other legacy his mother had bestowed upon him. Demons could heal fast, but nowhere near as quickly as angels. With his mixed heritage, he could generally recover from wounds in seconds. But his body wasn’t equipped to handle this level of toxicity, and his hands were already paralyzed. The succubus had poisoned him and there was no coming back from that.

  His last thought before he lost consciousness was that his brothers were going to be so pissed that he’d gotten himself killed.

  §

  Just before daybreak, Asmodeus dismissed Amara from his chamber. She’d done well tonight, especially considering that her only edict for the evening had been to scout out potential assignments. When she’d come back and admitted that she’d accidentally fed, he’d been enraged.

  It was he who chose her victims. Not her.

  The fact that she’d never made a mistake of this magnitude before had no bearing on his anger. She’d disobeyed him, and he’d been forced to punish her. But then he’d absorbed the life essence she’d stolen—thick, sweet, and pure. Purer than any he’d ever had. She had no clue what she’d stumbled upon—an angel, with the capacity to heal others. Asmodeus hoped he could twist that ability to his advantage. With any luck, Belpheg wouldn’t disappoint him; the dark fae’s ability to manipulate energy was beyond impressive.

  So what’s in it for him?

  That worry had nagged him throughout the entire time he’d associated with Belpheg. When the dark fae had first approached him years ago with the offer to make him more powerful, all Belpheg had asked for in return was the ability to use his powers at a future point. It had seemed like such a small thing at the time, and Belpheg’s gifts had been far too spectacular to turn down. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else at stake.

  Asmodeus walked barefoot toward the ornate wooden table that graced the center of his meeting chamber. He took a seat in his plush throne and closed his eyes, willing his body to relax. A good deal of time passed before he reached the level of concentration necessary to astrally project, as Belpheg had taught him to do.

  Weightless without the hindrance of his physical body, he soared through the night sky of the barren, desert-like astral realm, searching out the ray of pulsing energy that indicated an opening to a spiritual connection with Belpheg. Upon finding the football field-sized beacon, he flew into it. He landed on the rocky earth and waited.

  After several minutes, Belpheg’s figure formed—a dark fae with the blue-gray flesh and black hair typical of his kind. He wore the same magician’s robe he typically wore here in the astral realm.

  “You bring news?” Belpheg asked.

  “I have another potential source.” Somehow, the dark fae could manipulate Asmodeus’s body to take in the abilities of Otherworlders when he consumed their life essences. With Belpheg’s assistance, he’d transformed himself from a no-account incubus—a worthless child who’d grown up alone and fearful after his only parent had been arrested by the Council—into a wealthy, powerful member of society.

  “Good.” When Belpheg lifted his hands in front of him, they shook slightly. He muttered something under his breath and closed his eyes. A white stream of light shot out from his fingers.

  Asmodeus clenched his hands into fists, gritting his teeth against the pain when the light struck him with all the force of a bolt of lightning. His whole body shook as electricity coursed through him. Pity this had to be so uncomfortable, but energy manipulation was no easy matter. It would be worth it in the end.

  After several agonizing moments, Belpheg lowered his hands. He wore an expression Asmodeus had never seen before. “The life force you consumed...”

  Did he not recognize it? Belpheg could usually identify every species. “It was essence of angel.”

  “I know. It is familiar to me.” Belpheg turned away, appearing pensive. When he looked back at Asmodeus, he let out a slow grin.

  “Did it work?” Asmodeus held his breath, praying the answer was yes.

  “Yes it did. The angelic capacity to heal was passed onto you through the enchantment I cast.” Belpheg waved his hand. “Useful, but you won’t need it once you have ultimate power, so I’ve morphed it into the power to create fire. Now you only have two powers left to go until you have the twelve needed to be indestructible.”

  Yes. Two more abilities and Asmodeus would be unstoppable.

  Fearless.

  The problem was, Asmodeus never knew if the abilities would transfer to him along with the life essences. His success ratio was something like one out of ten. So he needed to target many victims in order to gain what he sought. That was why he’d recruited the succubi, rather than seeking out female victims himself. It would have taken a lifetime of working alone to amass the power he’d managed to gather within a mere few years. No...more than a lifetime, considering his extreme distaste for going out in public.

  “Not just that.” Belpheg let out a delighted-sounding laugh. “The man whose essence you absorbed is no ordinary angel. And I happen to know that he has three brothers.”

  “You learned all this from his life essence alone?” Asmodeus hadn’t even known that was possible.

  Belpheg’s gaze flickered, but he didn’t answer. “You must go after these brothers next. We can likely alter their gifts. Once you track them down and absorb what skills they have, you’ll have the twelve you need to become indestructible.”

  Okaay. “I hate to point out the obvious, but I know nothing about this man. How am I supposed to find his brothers?”

  “They work as bounty hunters. You’ll be able to find them.”

  Angel bounty hunters? Unusual. Asmodeus gave a bewildered shake of his head. “How do you know all this?”

  “Who would’ve imagined it? Such a strong essence.” After a long moment, the dark fae’s gaze narrowed in on Asmodeus, as if he’d just remembered his presence. “I don’t have to impress upon you the importance of doing this quietly, do I? The last thing we need is the Council finding us.”

  Asmodeus shifted in his spot. Should he inform Belpheg of his little slip last week with one of the mercenaries he employed? He’d mentioned just how much he would like to bring the Council down, and that he might have found a way to do it. In his defense, he had consumed several glasses of wine beforehand.

  No, he wouldn’t mention it. Something told him he’d be better off not to. Besides, it was probably of no consequence.

  “Of course not. I would never reveal you to the Council or anyone else.”

  “I know you won’t,” Belpheg said harshly, “since you swore a blood oath.”

  That was true. Swearing a blood oath bound a demon to his word. If he tried to speak Belpheg’s name to anyone else, he would be rendered mute.

  Belpheg stroked his chin, apparently lost in thought. “This is fortuitous indeed. Once you absorb their abilities, I’ll have everything I need.”

  Something about his words caused a tremor in Asmodeus’s spine. “Everything you need? For what?”

  “I want to act quickly. You have until the day before the March equinox to absorb their abilities.”

  “But...but that’s less than six weeks away.”

  “You can do
it. Besides,” Belpheg continued almost absently, “I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

  The dark fae was speaking in riddles. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  Belpheg stilled and raked Asmodeus with a scalding gaze that made him break out into an involuntary shiver. “You do what I’ve told you, because just as I gave you those abilities, I can take them away. You have until the day before the equinox. Do you understand that?”

  Asmodeus gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to snap at the dark fae. “Yes.”

  What choice did he have? Now that he’d gotten a taste of what it meant to be powerful, he couldn’t go back to being nothing. He wouldn’t.

  He would never be weak again.

  Chapter Two

  One Month Later...

  Eros was probably the tamest Otherworlder bar in all of New York City, but still a place for the perpetually wasted. So it seemed fitting that Ronin be here tonight since he’d been drunk for the last month straight.

  He lifted his half-empty glass of whiskey from the worn beige tile of the bar top, knocking it back in one deep swallow. The fiery liquid slid down his throat and settled in the pit of his stomach.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” said the voice to his right, “but dude, you sure have been coming here a lot lately. I’ll deny it if you repeat this to Keegan or Taeg, but you’re starting to give me a run for my money.”

  Ronin turned toward Dagan, blinking until his younger brother’s face came into focus. Seemed like he got drunk a lot faster lately. Ever since...well, since the incident. He healed slower, too, which maybe had something to do with it.

  “Not much else to do,” Ronin said.

  “True.” Dagan saluted him with his own glass before taking a big gulp.

  It had been close to two months since any of them had last gotten a gig from the Elden Council. Practically a record, and it made him wonder if demons were all of a sudden starting to behave themselves. If so, that was bad on many levels. One of them being that he needed the distraction of tracking down a bad guy. As it was, the owner of Eros could probably afford to redecorate the whole place with the money he and Dagan had dropped here in the past few months. Not that it needed it. With its beige tiled walls, the bar might have appeared institutional. But the dim lighting, modern decorations, and the red leather covering the barstools and booths gave it an edgy feel.