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

by Rosalie Lario

  After pausing only the slightest fraction of a second on the second-floor landing, she continued up to the third floor. The entire level served as Asmodeus’s quarters. It was massive, since he’d purchased all three of the units comprising the building and knocked the walls down to make one supersized residence. The second floor housed his servants, goons, bodyguards, and, of course, his succubi.

  Dread coated her throat as she headed toward the double doors leading into Asmodeus’s meeting chamber. Her footsteps barely sounded on the thick padding of the handwoven Persian carpet, but to her they were loud as drums, echoing the pounding of her heart. The ultra-dim sconces along the textured walls made for the ultimate mood lighting. Like one of those actresses in a horror movie, she walked toward her own destruction. Worse, she knew it and still kept going. But it wasn’t as if she had a choice. Not anymore.

  She knocked once on the heavy wooden door before slipping it open and stepping inside, as he would expect her to do. An ornate, dark wood table occupied a good portion of the large room, with a throne-like chair on one side of it. Asmodeus’s work space. Ceremonial daggers hung on the terra-cotta-textured walls. Other than that, the room was empty. Nowhere for visitors to sit.

  No one got to sit in his presence.

  Karen, another one of his succubi, stood next to Asmodeus by the table. They’d clearly just finished their business. He buttoned his black shirt while Karen drew her clothes back into place, keeping her eyes averted.

  As an incubus, Asmodeus radiated a level of sex appeal that most women couldn’t resist. Even though he was twice her age, he looked no more than thirty. That was the benefit of being a sex demon: a youthful appearance right until the very end.

  Topped off with his dark hair and eyes, playboy charm, and lean, sculpted physique, Asmodeus had the makings of every woman’s dream hero. But in his case, describing him as a lady-killer would be a hundred percent accurate. Now that Amara knew who he really was, all she noticed was his cruelty and deception. He was evil.

  “That’s enough, Karen. You may retire for the evening.”

  Karen gave Asmodeus a tight nod and headed for the exit. The revulsion in her eyes, mixed with the pitying glance she tossed to Amara, said it all.

  My turn. Except she hadn’t come back with what he’d sent her for. Oh, she was in big, big trouble.

  “You encountered no difficulty, I presume?” When she hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to confess her failure, Asmodeus turned to her with a glower. “The dark elf I sent you for?”

  Her stomach was heavy as lead. The urge to run almost overwhelmed her. But she couldn’t. He would only chase her down. “He...he got away.”

  “He got away?” The steely menace in his voice made her edge back. “Tell me, Amara, how is that possible?”

  Her current assignment was a powerful dark elf named Lucio. He was in this dimension for a few days to conduct business. When she’d approached him tonight, he’d looked her up and down before dismissing her with a bored, “Sorry, darling, but I’m here on business, not pleasure. Now be a good girl and fuck off.”

  Not even the copious amounts of allure she’d emitted were enough to sway him, though his three personal bodyguards had eyed her with interest. One of them had even cornered her by the bar before she’d squirmed out of his grasp and managed to escape.

  “I...he wouldn’t cooperate. Didn’t seem interested. I couldn’t get him to go with me.”

  Asmodeus’s eyes narrowed and he stalked toward her. She barely had time to blink before he curled his hand into a fist and struck her, hard, on the left side of her face.

  Amara flew several feet before hitting the floor with enough force to disorient her. The rough wool of the Persian carpet scratched the bare skin of her back. Familiar.

  She’d been here many times before.

  When her stomach rolled, she turned to her side and fought the desire to vomit. Asmodeus would be twice as pissed if she puked on his priceless carpet. The urge passed, and she swallowed back the bitter tang of blood in her mouth before trying to stand. Her body wouldn’t cooperate.

  Asmodeus’s bare feet stopped right in front of her. Shit.

  Casually, he bent down, closing his hand around her throat and forcing her into a seated position. He squeezed hard, cutting off her air supply.

  “How difficult can it be, Amara? You fuck him and take his life essence. Even a brain-dead succubus could manage to pull that off.”

  She tried to pry his hand away from her throat, glaring at him the whole while. Wishing for once she could fight back. Rake his flesh, gouge his eyes out, grab one of the daggers he hung on his wall and gut him with it. She’d never allowed any man to abuse her. Never been one to put up with that crap.

  But then she remembered...Solara. The reason she was here to begin with.

  The reason she now belonged to Asmodeus.

  She uncurled her fingers from his hand, forcing herself to relax. Apparently mollified by her reaction, he lessened the grip on her throat enough for her to choke out a reply. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “You’re right,” he said through gritted teeth. “It won’t. That would make me quite angry.”

  Oh yes, she knew what happened when he grew angry. She carried mental scars from it that would never fade.

  “I’ll try again tomorrow. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “That’s good.” He released her throat with a beleaguered sigh, sliding his hand down her chest. “I don’t understand you, Amara. You are beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful of my succubi. You must not fail me.”

  He cupped her breast, and against her will, her body responded, seeking the sustenance only a man could provide. Her stupid body didn’t care how depraved he was, or the things he’d done. It sought only sex, and the life essence it could provide, uncaring who her victim was. She hated this about herself more than anything.

  Amara bit her lip hard, reveling in the pain. Whatever it took to keep herself from involuntarily arching into his touch. But he knew what she was going through, the hunger that ravaged her. The bastard. After all, he was a sex demon, too. That was what made his power over her so absolute.

  His laugh was soft and silky. “You poor thing. How long has it been since you last fed?”

  The asshole knew full well how long it’d been. It was his fault she was starving. “Three days.”

  “Such a long time.” His free hand slipped under her short dress and between her legs. This time she couldn’t stop herself from undulating against his touch, drinking in the small bit of nourishment it provided her. It wasn’t good enough.

  Sex was what she needed to survive. It was the only thing that would replenish her depleting life essence. But the chemicals her body produced during sex were toxic to everyone but other sex demons. As an incubus, Asmodeus was one of the few men who could feed her without dying in the process. Ironic, since she would choose death over having to endure being touched by him again.

  How unlucky for her.

  While there weren’t a great many succubi, especially living in this dimension, they far outnumbered incubi. Succubi could breed with any species, even though their mates usually died, but incubi could only breed with other succubi. The whole death-by-sex thing tended to preclude non-succubi from carrying an incubus child to term.

  The disparity in the incubi-to-succubi ratio was one of the reasons Asmodeus had been able to amass his unwilling harem so easily. They’d all been fooled by him, and once he’d collected them, he’d treated them as his possessions. To be used however he desired.

  Asmodeus’s words when she’d first bound herself to him crept into her mind: A whore. You’re nothing more than a whore, Amara. That’s all a succubus really is.

  He’s right. In the end, she was nothing more than that.

  As
modeus drew his fingers away, and a pained moan escaped her. So hungry. Her stomach twisted into knots and the spot between her thighs burned, aching to be filled. This was the worst sort of hell. She couldn’t even control her own body.

  When he grinned, her flesh crawled. Bad things generally followed when he wore an expression like that.

  “Tell you what,” he said, giving her a sweet smile. “I’ll send you to Gofrey. He’ll make sure you’re well fed in no time.”

  Amara drew back at the horror his words elicited. This wasn’t the first time he’d threatened her with that, but she feared one day he would follow through. Having to endure Asmodeus’s touch was more than enough. She didn’t want to be forced to accommodate his lackey, too.

  “No.” She cursed the tremor in her voice. “I’ll complete my assignment tomorrow. I promise.”

  “Good,” he said with marked satisfaction, “because if you fail me again, you won’t like the consequences.”

  He rose to his feet and turned his back on her in a gesture of clear dismissal.

  Amara rose and concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other. She closed her hand over the antique crystal knob.

  “Oh, Amara.”

  She stilled, her hand tightening around the knob. “Yes?”

  “You know, you should be happy you’ve found a home here with me. Who else would welcome a succubus like you?”

  Unbidden, the memory of turquoise eyes flashed into her mind. Of an intriguing demon with olive-toned flesh, a strong, chiseled face, and shaggy hair that fell close to jaw-length. The eyes were obviously glamoured, but she’d instinctively known that the rest of him was just as handsome. The way he’d regarded her that night—like she might be his salvation. He was the only man who’d ever managed to touch her heart, however brief their acquaintance.

  “Well, for more than one night, at least,” Asmodeus amended wryly.

  He was right. The man who had consumed her thoughts for the past several weeks—he was dead. And she should know.

  After all, she’d been the one to kill him.

  §

  Belpheg sat in his ritual chamber, meditating in an attempt to center his powers. His hands shook from the effort. It was getting more and more difficult to ground himself, and a month had passed since he’d ordered Asmodeus to obtain the life essence of the bounty hunters. The fact that he hadn’t yet done so displeased Belpheg. If he didn’t have a use for Asmodeus, the incubus would be dead by now.

  He closed his eyes at the memory of the life essence he’d felt through his soul connection with Asmodeus. An angel-demon hybrid whose rare blood combination had made the transference of his powers to Asmodeus easy. From there it had been a simple matter of twisting those abilities into something far more...useful. Even better, he’d recognized that life essence. He’d felt something similar to it before, in an old acquaintance.

  Mammon—the man who had once saved his life.

  Belpheg had known Mammon’s sons now worked as interdimensional bounty hunters in New York City. He was also aware that they had captured Mammon and turned him in to the Council. The demon had been so cocky that he’d never even requested Belpheg’s assistance. He’d thought he would be able to take control of Earth by himself. How wrong he’d been, and Belpheg had been content to let him suffer for it. But he should have considered learning a bit more about his old friend’s progeny—he’d never bothered to discover what their mothers were. Had he known, it might have saved him some time.

  He would use Mammon’s sons, use the strength that Mammon had bred into them. Once Asmodeus absorbed their energies, the incubus would be allpowerful. And Belpheg would have at last completed the circle of twelve men he’d worked for years to collect.

  Twelve men with twelve powers each. That was the magic number. Their powers would be at their zenith when they completed a magical circle on the equinox, and with Belpheg in the center of that circle—with all that energy focused on him—things were bound to get interesting.

  Damn Asmodeus. He should have trapped the brothers by now. The March equinox was less than two weeks away. If Belpheg didn’t make the timeline, he would have to wait until the summer solstice, and as unstable as his powers had grown, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

  He’d have to pay Asmodeus a visit.

  Belpheg concentrated on mentally stroking the cord that bound his soul to Asmodeus’s. When it hummed in response, he let his spirit float out of his body and into the astral realm.

  Asmodeus joined him soon after, his figure forming out of his essence. He refused to meet Belpheg’s gaze. “Yes, Belpheg?”

  “The bounty hunters. Why haven’t you absorbed their energy yet?”

  Asmodeus rubbed his neck. “They’re proving difficult to trap. My succubi can’t even get close enough to lure them. In fact, only one of them ever seeks women out, and he appears to be wary of women whose genetic makeup cannot be easily determined. Perhaps as a result of what happened to his brother.”

  Belpheg gritted his teeth. “Time is running out.”

  Something flickered in Asmodeus’s eyes. He cocked his head. “I don’t understand. What’s so important about these brothers? Why the equinox?”

  Fury boiled Belpheg’s blood and a clap of thunder sounded, a response that echoed his emotions. “Your job isn’t to question, but to act. I’ve been very kind to you. Did you forget what you were before I met you? A paranoid wreck, so mentally damaged you lived in fear of your own shadow. Do you want to become that again?”

  Asmodeus bristled, but when he spoke all he said was, “I’m working on getting them. In the meantime, I’ve discovered another potential source. He’s a dark elf. Strong, cunning. He—”

  “I don’t care!”

  A bolt of lightning zigzagged through the sky, and Asmodeus tensed. “I’ll get them.”

  “Make sure that you do. Your time is running out.”

  Chapter Three

  It was a nice night for a new assignment. Then again, Ronin was ecstatic that they finally had a gig to work. A job means we all get to stay here, at least a little while longer. And the fact that it was a big baddie they were after? Bonus. Always felt good to take down a real creep.

  Once they’d arrived at Keegan’s apartment, he headed straight into his office to call the Council liaison. The liaisons were higher-level employees who acted as middlemen between the Council and its lower-level workers—in other words, people like Keegan, Ronin, and all the other lowly bounty hunters.

  Hey, at least the pay was good. Money meant nothing to the Council.

  About twenty minutes later, Keegan strolled back into the living room, where they all waited for him. Brynn, Taeg, and Maya reclined on the leather sectional, and Brynn kept shifting in place, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt her back.

  Taeg affectionately nuzzled Maya’s neck. “What did you find out, bro?”

  “Our mark’s name is Asmodeus. An incubus.” Keegan headed to the bar, where he snagged five glasses and poured everyone but Brynn whiskey. As he passed out the glasses, he said, “The Council has suspected for some time that he’s been conducting illegal activity on Earth, but they now have proof that he employs a small group of succubi to murder Otherworlders on his behalf.”

  Ronin took a big gulp from his glass. “Serial murder by succubus? That’s odd.”

  Keegan arched a brow. “The oddest thing is that he seems to have some sort of agenda. From the intel they’ve been able to gather, he carefully screens and chooses his victims.”

  Dagan pushed away from the wall and took his drink. “What the hell? Why would he do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Maya let out a hacking cough. Coloring, she lowered her glass and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand “Sorry. Still haven’t gotten used to shooting whiskey straigh
t.”

  Taeg rubbed her back. “You’d better get used to it, sweetheart. If you want to be part of the team, you have to hang like the boys.”

  Ronin stifled a chuckle when she threw him a dirty glance. Taeg’s teasing aside, they’d found Maya to be a valuable asset over the past several months. Her ability to see through glamours often came in handy, and the woman had trained to fight better than most demons.

  Brynn shifted her position again. “At least you’re able to drink.”

  Ronin nudged them back to the topic at hand. “What would be the purpose of singling out Others to be killed by his succubi?”

  “Maybe he has some sort beef with them,” Taeg said.

  Dagan scratched his head. “Or he could be an Otherworldly hit man.”

  “All good suggestions,” Keegan said. “But the Council wants us to definitively answer that question before we try to apprehend him. They’ve heard rumors of Asmodeus’s desire to take down the Council.”

  “Do they think he might have a chance?” Ronin asked. Because that would be something. No one knew for sure how many Council members there were, but every one of them was wise and strong, the perfect specimen of his or her species.

  “Not likely,” Keegan said. “I mean, what are the odds of someone being powerful enough to take on the entire Council? But for some reason the Council members still view him as a possible threat.”

  Ronin couldn’t hold back his grin. He’d been hoping for something to keep his mind occupied, and this was perfect. When the memory of those seductive, world-weary brown eyes came into his head once again, he pushed it aside. This assignment would be the best thing to help him forget about the sad, sexy succubus who’d almost taken his life.

  Taeg scooted forward on the couch and leaned his elbows on his knees. “So what do we know about this Asmodeus?”

  Keegan took a swig of his whiskey. “He was given leave to move to this dimension twenty years ago. Apparently he’s kept himself quite busy in the past few years, amassing a sizable fortune, staying under the radar the whole time. The Council knows where he lives—a townhome in Brooklyn—but he’s got to have friends in high places. Someone has bespelled his entire street. Nobody unwanted can get in, and he never leaves.”