Unholy Proposal (Unholy Inc Book 1)

by Misty Dietz

  His eyes twinkled. As he stepped closer to run a hand through her hair, she froze. He didn’t speak for a long time. Then, “I want honesty. In your words and from your body. I don’t want you to hold anything back. I want your truth or nothing.”

  Okay, that was not what she’d expected. Somebody must’ve fed the shivering butterflies in her belly a line of speed. “You must do this all the time, huh?”

  “Propose contracts to sleep with my staff? Nah, this is my first time, too.”

  “Liar.”

  “I’ve never told you an untruth, Jessie.”

  “Omission is practically the same thing.”

  “I didn’t lead you to believe anything. You simply didn’t enquire about my occupation. Instead I’m assuming you chose to fall back on your own assumptions.”

  Well, that was true. But she still didn’t trust him, and she wasn’t about to start anytime soon.

  “Did your uncle seem…out of sorts?” he asked.

  Definitely, but she didn’t want to mix family with…this. “Lately, he’s been under a lot of stress for some reason.” She didn’t bother toning down the condemnation in her voice.

  “He turned a blind eye to drugs in his club, Jess. If I hadn’t bought the place, the feds would have shut him down, and he’d have nothing to show for it.”

  “So we should be grateful to you, then?” It was bitchy, but, man, so much was changing at once that she felt out of control. She hated that feeling more than anything.

  She brought her gaze to his. His eyes were watchful. Maybe he wasn’t as heartless as she’d first imagined. Maybe she should stop being the very thing she hated the most—judgmental. “Sorry,” she said.

  He nodded once. “Need help on that contract?” He looked pointedly over her shoulder to the table where her law books were piled next to her closed laptop.

  “The only thing I need your help with is keeping this arrangement a secret.”

  His smirk was back. “I can’t promise you that, Jessica. Especially when you have brilliant ideas like sharing your fanny in the beer locker.”

  When he took a step toward her, the butterflies migrated up her windpipe to tickle the back of her throat. He was a hard, sweet, and salty piece of candy waiting to be licked, sucked, and savored. And his brain wasn’t bad either.

  Except when he was using it on her.

  She held up a hand to stop him in his tracks. “I want you to keep Sonja on the payroll.” You’d better say yes, Nate.

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “How do you know about Sonja?”

  He was almost supernaturally still. She rubbed her hands on her arms. “Surely she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “What do you know about Sonja?” he repeated.

  “She’s dated my uncle off and on for about ten years. The Satanic-looking stuff she found is decorations for opening night, right? You’re not some devil worshipper, are you?”

  His gaze was steady. “What do you think?”

  He really should be smiling. “I would hope not.” That shit was creepy.

  If it was real.

  He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. For the first time since she’d parked her car, she smiled and relaxed at his show of restlessness. If that was perverse of her, so be it. A taste of his own medicine would keep him humble.

  “As much as I like you, Jessie, I don’t need to justify my hiring—or firing—decisions to you.”

  So much for humble. Talk about putting her in her place. A little part of her knew she deserved it, but it still irked. She’d do well to remember he didn’t do anything that didn’t directly benefit himself. And he’d use any type of manipulation to get his way.

  Just like her mother.

  But Jessie had had plenty of time to learn how to hold her own against people like them. She could handle this.

  Nate’s demeanor had changed, his face going shuttered even as his eyes continued to strip her bare. “By the way, you left without getting directions to my place.”

  “My number is in my personnel file. You could’ve texted me your address.”

  “I prefer face to face. That way, I don’t miss any cues.” His smile made it into a sexual innuendo, but one without any of his earlier warmth. “Need I remind you that Katherine will be at TERRA until ten? She can scan the document to add my remote signature. After she’s notarized it, you have until midnight to show up at my place. Don’t be late.” His warm skin brushed hers as he handed her a sheet of paper with his home address. Soon he was gone, leaving her wondering if her self-respect would ever recover from the fallout from this transaction. She stripped her socks off and threw them across the room where Scourge was sleeping on the ottoman.

  When she plunked down in front of her computer she realized Nate hadn’t answered her question about the Satanic paraphernalia—and his answer could have so easily set her mind at ease.

  Chapter 7

  Nate closed the door to his large upstairs office at TERRA and stood there a moment absorbing the quiet calm of the space. The dark walnut flooring, pure white walls, and simple bamboo furniture were set against a wall of windows that overlooked downtown Minneapolis. The chairs were uncomfortable by design because he didn’t want anyone to linger. He was a social bloke, but he wanted it to be on his terms.

  He waved his hand in front of the panel that switched on his favorite R&B music and exhaled deeply as a singer crooned to him about her erotic motivation. He wished it was Jessie singing to him. He’d purposely kept this room simple, kept it quiet. It was an epic acoustic victory, because opposite the wall of windows was another paneled wall hiding one-sided glass, which let him unobtrusively observe the pounding madness in the club below, should he care to do so.

  And still not hear a single bass beat drop.

  It had taken four sheets of soundproof glass to make it happen, but it had been well worth the hefty price tag.

  Nate pushed a button on the wall and the club’s dance floor and upper balconies vanished behind the whisper of the white wall panels. The chaos of opening night would happen soon enough. Right now he craved tranquility so he could think about Jessie.

  And what had just gone down at her apartment.

  A succubus—a female fallen angel who appeared in a human male’s dreams as a beautiful woman to drain his human vitality through seduction—had been sniffing around Jessie’s uncle. Mason had that telltale appearance that suggested he was coming down with a cold, but Nate suspected that the succubus had already spent a few evenings raping Mason’s life force.

  A succubus didn’t often take shape outside human dreams. Granted, she appeared to be wavering on some plane of alternate reality, because her form would flicker between a glamoured facade and her true visage. And she didn’t seem to be able to actually touch Mr. Jacobs.

  Yet, by the way Jessie had reacted when the succubus flew by her, Nate was certain Jessie had felt the fallen angel.

  This succubus’s appearance was different than others he’d fought. In addition to the usual brown horns, emerald hair, and rust colored, bat-like wings, this one seemed to have borrowed a couple of traits of the male incubi. Namely, the long, leonine tail and iridescent scales growing up her shins from her feet.

  Night after night a succubus would return to her human target, gradually sucking away his life force via sex to maintain her human-like glamour. Succubi emitted a dark aura that even humans could sense, but it rarely prevented the human from resisting them since, in most cases, these demons could only touch a human who was already walking a path of wickedness.

  You’d have to be out of your bloody mind—or damned desperate—to have sex with one of their ilk because it was a choice. Apparently there were millions of humans who fell into those categories, though, because the succubi and incubi ranks were innumerable.

  The succubus hovering over Mason wouldn’t be able to rape anyone ever again, but she’d delivered a shock of her own before Nate had dec
apitated her. She’d told him a war was coming. And then she’d laughed like a maniac.

  What the devil was that supposed to mean?

  If she’d been following him, he’d completely missed the clues. Which meant she’d become aware of how bent he was getting over Jessie. What if she’d told others of her kind?

  Not good.

  His preoccupation with Jessie was not only befuddling his ability to carry out his duties, but it was also putting her in demonic cross hairs.

  Nate sat down heavily in his chair. From what he’d overheard Mason say, Jessie had already had more than her share of heartache as a neglected and verbally abused child—trying to be noticed, trying to be loved, but only getting knocked around instead.

  Her mother apparently had a lot in common with his flunkee parents. The difference was, the scars of her childhood sometimes subverted her naturally spunky nature, whereas his rough upbringing had continued a cycle of selfishness. He could openly admit that he’d been a relentless manipulator while he’d been alive, but he refused to feel bad about it. Lying, cheating, and manipulating might still be his flaws, but they were what had kept him alive during the poverty of early twentieth century England.

  He did what he had to do.

  Sometimes a flaw helped you flourish when you became good enough at it. He looked around his austere office. How much did Jessie know about what Sonja had seen in the sanctorum—the spiritually-warded protection room where no demons could enter? It not only housed a powerful, religious relic, but it was also where they stockpiled demon byproducts and evil-summoning objects.

  The Guardians could, and often did, destroy these objects as they came across them in the heat of battle over a human soul. But they reaped a much stronger benefit if they were able to collect the evil objects, and then destroy them in a massive vanquishing ceremony called a domo. It required at least two Guardians to perform a domo, more if the cache of evil was enormous. If they were successful at destroying the objects, the back draft sucked every demon within a twenty-mile radius into a state of nothingness.

  The best part? Those demons never came back.

  Therefore, guarding the sanctorum—and keeping it a secret—was paramount for the Guardians, but even more so for the welfare of the humans they were charged to protect.

  Which brought him back to Jessie. Thankfully, she was moving in with him. He could protect her better this way.

  But only for a week.

  That would be enough. He’d make sure everyone around her was free of demon activity before she left him. He was tempted to call her to check in. To make sure the heavy wards he’d placed on her door were holding. To spur her efforts on that contract.

  But that was something a pussy whipped guy would do. Sure, she brought out the colors, flavors, and textures of his world, but come on, it was his first time. At less than two hundred years old, he was still a baby by Guardian standards. This sense enhancement typically happened several times during a Guardian’s existence. So for now, he’d keep Jessie close and enjoy the benefits of her companionship.

  He was anything but pussy whipped.

  He stood and walked to the wall of windows, placing a palm on the cool glass as he stared at the moving traffic in the street below. Maybe the succubus’ taunt and her flickering form meant there was something to Alexios’s warning that a shift seemed to be happening in the Seam between Earth and Hell. But what was causing it? And what would it mean?

  Nate picked up the phone to get to the next item on his mental to-do list—call Jinx for intel on Jessie’s mother’s background—when Spencer walked in. Nate held up his hand, then tried his best to ignore Spencer as the older Guardian sauntered to the small bar in the corner of the room to pour himself a brandy. After Nate hung up, he braced for his fellow Englishman to take the piss out of him.

  Spencer raised an eyebrow and offered a silent toast to Nate. “You really fancy her. Could she be your compar?”

  Nate picked up a pen and laid it back down. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Then?”

  “She’s fun to be around.”

  Spencer smiled faintly. “Lots of birds with curves are amusing.”

  Nate needed a drink of his own. “When was the last time you were with a woman who made your colors burst and your taste ignite?”

  Spencer’s brandy paused on the way to his lips.

  Interesting. The once-upon-a-time son of a Marquess was never taken off guard.

  “Ignite. Witty,” he said.

  “I wasn’t referring to your fire element, Jameson. Don’t try to pretend like it hasn’t happened to you. I overheard Jinx telling Katherine about it,” Nate said.

  Spencer swilled the liqueur around in his mouth, then swallowed. “Probably eighty-four years ago. And the experience has a name. They call it amplio.”

  Spencer rarely avoided looking anyone in the eye as there was no faster means of intimidation. Right now he wasn’t looking at Nate.

  “Why is that? Nate asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Why does amplio happen? What does it mean?”

  “No one really knows. Some Guardians think it’s a gift for good behavior, so to speak.”

  “So it has nothing to do with a specific person?”

  “Generally not,” Spencer replied.

  Why that would be a disappointment made no sense. Nate should be glad it had nothing to do with Jessie. How many times had he told himself that human attachments only spelled trouble because, well, the whole mortality thing. So far, it hadn’t been an issue. He’d have to keep that in mind in the coming week.

  Spencer rose from the hard chair that hadn’t seemed to discomfort him in the slightest. “Dorian caught one of the club’s previous employees in the sanctorum. She found the demon cache we collected over the last couple of fortnights.”

  “I heard. Is the relic safe?”

  Spencer nodded. “She didn’t discover the wall panel behind your bookcase.”

  “Good.” Nate looked at his watch. Nine o’clock. Jessie had one hour to catch Katherine before she left. If they didn’t notarize the document, he was afraid she’d bail on him before their week was over. “Has Dorian found her and wiped her mind yet?”

  “Yes. The duffer should have never forgotten that step in the first place. Who knows how many people that muppet Sonja told about the room and what she saw? There will probably be a fair amount of fallout from this.”

  “Dorian’s still young. I made lots of mistakes in my first five years post-human, too.” Still do. And judging by some of the ancient Guardians’ inner darkness, fighting temptation while trying to live a good life the second time around never seemed to get easier. And damn, that was either depressing—

  Or he just wouldn’t think about it.

  Fuck you, Purgatory.

  The walls of Nate’s office shook, sending the large oval mirror on the wall smashing to the floor. The sensation of ocean-deep, echoing laughter rasped across his skin. Spencer set his drink down with an unsteady hand and leaned forward in his chair as a blast of white light seared their eyeballs.

  Only one being besides the big guy upstairs scared the shit out of all the Guardians—Alexios included—like this.

  Archangel Michael. Supreme Commander of Heaven’s Army and the one who’d brought the Guardians into existence when he’d breathed life back into Alexios eons ago.

  Given the choice to come back to redeem himself by protecting humans until the end days, Alexios had accepted Michael’s uncompromising offer, though everyone knew it had more to do with Alexios wanting to keep Sophia in his life than any compelling desire to save humanity.

  The fact remained, however, that their Guardianship had begun with free will. And it would end that way.

  Still didn’t mean Nate had to like it.

  When Nate could see from his watering eyes once again, the archangel towered before him, garbed in black from the barrel of his massive chest to the bottom of his wide-planted, leather-s
hod feet. Intricate, colorful tattoos covered his powerful forearms as well as what could be seen of his neck beneath the fall of raven’s blue-black hair. Nate forced himself to meet the archangel’s searing blue eyes.

  “You don’t have to like your lot, Guardian,” Michael said. “Hell’s gate lies open should you change your mind at any moment. I can even escort you there if you like. It’s been awhile since I gave my regards to Lucifer.”

  Nate shoved his fingers in his ears and pulled them out to see if his brains were oozing. “Can you turn down the angelic boom a little? I’d like to keep my gray matter from liquefying.”

  It was just his luck that the moment he’d been bitching about his cosmic misfortune, the archangel had decided to check in.

  And when Michael appeared, it was usually bad news.

  The archangel raised his hands and a pair of double-edged, two-foot long Xiphos swords materialized in his grip. He crossed the shining swords in front of him as he chanted a Latin prayer of protection, which made Nate start to sweat. If a demon was beheaded with one of these blades, it didn’t get dispatched back to the fiery pit, it was permanently eliminated.

  Michael gripped the blades, extending the handles of the two Xiphos to him and Spencer. The most primal corner of Nate’s brain told him to reject the archangel’s blade. Things were about to get royally screwed on Earth if Heaven was permitting big guns like this. Alexios fought with the original Xiphos he’d used as a Spartan warrior, but Jinx had received a Xiphos forged by Michael when she and Alexios had battled one of Hell’s Legions in the seventh century.

  Jesus.

  “Have a care for your language, Guardian, unless you are calling upon the Son directly. Else I shall remove your head altogether.”

  “Beg pardon, archangel.” He gritted his teeth and reached for the sword, the gold and ivory handle warm and pulsing in his hands. “Will you leave one for Katherine as well?”

  “No, I expect all Guardians to shield her as she is cleansing the unholy.” Katherine, one of the few Purifier Guardians, had special exorcism talents in addition to control of one of the natural elements. Instead of a warrior, she was a human soul doctor.