Unholy Proposal (Unholy Inc Book 1)

by Misty Dietz

  He’d told her he’d sought ugliness so he could better appreciate beauty. Exposed himself to hate so he could feel the depths of love. He said extremes forged character. For how could he know one if he didn’t intimately know its opposite?

  Jessie poured a whiskey neat as the Dead Enders launched into the final set of their allotted gig. What could have given Dante such pause? A small voice inside urged her to ignore it all. To carry on with her job, and later, enjoy her last night with Nate. To return home with Scourge and make a fresh start tomorrow when she’d have fewer worries and more money in the bank after fulfilling her contract.

  Dante can take care of himself.

  Yes, but...

  Something was wrong.

  She knew it. Call it a sixth sense, intuition, whatever…

  She felt it.

  Jessie turned and motioned to Stark, a security team member here temporarily from Katherine’s Hawaiian club AQUA. Stark nonchalantly pushed away from the pillar that belched green mist from a fog machine and wove toward her through the crowd, his golden haired, blue-eyed looks capturing more than a few interested gazes along the way. Jessie capped the whiskey and set it on the mirrored shelf behind her when Stark none-too-gently nudged aside the frat boys in front of her station.

  “These jokers bothering you, Little Red?”

  She shook her head rapidly, pressing her hand against her fluttering midsection as the uneasy sensation multiplied. “Can you find Nate and ask him to stop by when he has a minute?”

  She should have felt better when Stark was en route to Nate, but she didn’t. Her eyes scanned the dance floor, lifting to take in the balconies, and all she saw were angels, devils, and monsters.

  Chapter 20

  Nate pulled the mic out of his ear and shoved it in his suit coat pocket. The piece of shit had only worked for the first couple of hours of the night. But whatever, things were going well. What a relief after Michael’s ominous warnings about the Seam splitting tonight on his watch.

  It’s not over til it’s over.

  Yeah, but so far, there was no demon bullshit that they hadn’t been able to handle. The place was seething, so he was going to let the good times roll.

  And fantasize how he was going to tie Jessie to the bed in a few hours.

  He looked up to the third floor balcony where Alexios’s right hand, Jawahar, kept aerial watch. When he signaled the all’s well, Nate turned his attention to the crush of people at the bar. He couldn’t see Jessie for all the bodies, but since everything appeared to be in order he forced himself to check out Fever—a small room on the north end of the club.

  It was quieter and less frenzied here. A girl in Betty Boop duds was getting her shoop-boop-be-doop on the lap of a lusty fireman. They sprawled on a leather chair near three occupied pool tables. Live and let live.

  If he had to do good, he at least wanted to have a little fun in the process.

  After scouting the club’s other specialty room, as well as the upper balconies, he was headed toward the VIP spaces when Katherine’s man, Stark, approached him from across the room. Alexios had once commented that the Archangel Michael had drawn his flaming sword upon first seeing Stark, unnerved by how much the tall, light-haired, well-formed human resembled Lucifer before the powerful angel was cast from Heaven and escorted to Hell by Michael himself.

  “What is it, Stark?”

  “When you get a moment, Jessie asked that you stop by her station.”

  “She okay?” Nate began walking before he even heard Stark’s reply, his pulse jumping in his neck. Ten feet from Jessie’s station, he saw José attempting to dirty dance with her, the wiry Latino grinding against her left hip, completely oblivious to her furrowed brows.

  “Get back to work, you bloody sod,” Nate bellowed, endeavoring to stave off the possessiveness that ramped up his Earth element. The floor under the bartenders’ feet rippled up half a foot. He lunged across the bar and grabbed hold of Jessie’s flimsy sleeve, trying to right her, but the damned material ripped and came away in his hand. When Jessie tumbled face down toward José’s groin, the bartender had the balls to laugh. Jessie blushed, trying to fix her damaged shirt, but buggeritall, more of her breasts were showing now than before.

  This time Nate’s boiling blood made the walls shake, sending liquor bottles crashing down from the shelves. When one almost landed on her head, he vaulted over the counter, ignoring José’s incredulous look. Nate wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her out of harm’s way. He shucked his suit coat and shoved her arms into the sleeves like she was a recalcitrant toddler. “You’re done here, Jessica.” His voice was rough and deep. The bottles rattled on the shelves again.

  Jessie looked at the floor warily. “What was that?”

  Nate’s conscience pricked at the waver in her voice. “Special effects. Like them?”

  “Not sure yet.” She kept her gaze glued to the floor like it was going to eat her.

  José turned the task lighting at his station on high. “Special effects, you say?”

  “Hell, yes, and I’ve got plenty more where that comes from.” If looks could kill, José would be entirely demolished right now.

  Jessie put a hand on his chest. “Nate, have you checked in with everyone on the security team?”

  José tossed a bottle of Patrón in the air with a flourish. “Why you so pissed, boss man? Surely you know our booty poppin’ is part of the show?” He smiled, but any man looking at him would see his challenge.

  “Discourtesy to your employer is ill-advised, Mr. de la Fuente. Discourtesy to your employer in front of others is self-immolation. This is your first and only warning.” He stared him down until José looked away. Nate turned to Jessie. “Keep my coat on and come with me,” he barked. Goddamn. He was starting to sound like a stiff, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. So much for live and let live.

  At least when it came to his woman.

  “How does that thing with the floor work?” she asked, pulling a broom from the narrow utility closet next to José’s station. Her entire vibe communicated unease.

  “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go.” He needed to put his hands on her, wrap her in his arms to reassure both of them all was well.

  “I can’t. I’m working. We have one chance to get this grand opening right.” She stopped sweeping to pin him with a somber gaze. “Has everyone on your team checked in? I feel really unsettled about something.”

  That gave him pause. Especially because she’d asked him twice now. He took the broom from her hands and dumped the glass-filled dustpan in the garbage. “Yes, they have. What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, frowning. “I don’t even know.”

  A weaving Freddy Krueger staggered and shoved his way to the bar. “JBlaze! I’m a Virgo, what’s your sign, baby?”

  “Do not enter,” Jessie yelled, looking more frazzled than he’d ever seen her. All his protective instincts rose to the fore.

  Freddy pressed his razored fingers to his chest. “Damn, girl, you know how to break a monster’s heart. If you won’t date me, how about you show me some more of those lickable tits!”

  Nate snarled and grabbed a fistful of Freddy’s red and black stripped shirt so forcefully the man’s brown hat tumbled backwards. “Show the lady some respect!”

  Nightmare on Elm Street guy tried to shrug out of Nate’s grasp. “I didn’t mean no harm, dude, but look at her! She makes me wanna suck—”

  Nate shoved the man backward so hard Freddy knocked a wave of people down like bowling pins. Nate would have followed to remove the piss artist from the building, but Dorian already had the guy halfway to the door.

  Jessie came around the bar amid the partygoers, a fretful look on her face that made his heart stutter. “What about Mason? Has anyone heard anything on him yet?”

  “No, but I’ll keep you safe, Jess. Why don’t you retire to my office for the rest of the night? You can watch me as I pinch-hit behind the bar.” He smiled and ran hi
s fingers down her cheek. He needed to keep an eye on José anyway. The bartender likely knew his days at TERRA were limited, so it wouldn’t surprise Nate if he walked out at the height of the party.

  “I want to work. If I sit upstairs, I’ll just worry.” Jessie shrugged out of his suit coat and held it out to him. “Would you mind asking Dante to stop by the bar when the band wraps up their set?”

  Make her go upstairs. There he could guarantee her safety. Forcing, manipulating, coercing—that was what he knew best.

  He also knew it wouldn’t get him what he really wanted this time around.

  Jessie’s….acceptance?

  A bead of sweat rolled down the center of his spine, making him want to fidget. “Only if you put the jacket back on.” More manipulation but…

  Fucking Look. At. Her.

  She re-cinched the ties of her costume with slightly shaking hands. “Nothing is hanging out.”

  Yet. From his taller vantage point her sweet left nipple was perilously close to the top edge of all that ruffled business. A menagerie of witches, zombies, and clowns was closing a semi-circle behind her, seemingly hungry to be in the same air-space as his beautiful, celebrated mixologist.

  To lay eyes on her was to be captivated by her.

  Only he could see the tiny stress lines that bracketed her forced smile. He broke through her groupies, gently grabbing her by the arm, and started pulling her toward the hallway that led to his office.

  “Nate, stop.” She pulled against his hold, but he only tightened it and pressed onward through the crowd.

  How did he ever think this would work? After one taste of her honey lips, he should have known he’d never be able to share her—any part of her—with anyone else. She was his compar. His soul mate, and she belonged to him.

  “Stop!”

  It wasn’t so bloody loud in the hallway, subduing some of the buzzing in his head. He growled at an amorous pair to take their heavy petting elsewhere, then turned to her. “I can’t stand it when others see you like this.” His right hand swept through the air in front of her body.

  His honesty shocked them both.

  Her mouth dropped open. “What? You’re being ridiculous. I’ve got more clothes on than most of the other women in this place.”

  “I don’t give a bleeding shit about any other birds.”

  She took a step away from him, her eyes wide, bright, and…disappointed.

  Bollocks. He was being a fool when all he’d wanted to do was take care of her. Protect her. He reached for her hand, almost short of breath. “Jessie…”

  She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. “This controlling behavior of yours is not okay. I don’t know what you did with the respectful and trusting man I’ve enjoyed this week, but if this is the real you, I guess it’s for the best that I find out now.”

  Nate ran a shaky hand through his hair. He’d learned as a child that you can’t grasp a butterfly with all your force without destroying it. If this is what happened when he knew his compar existed, what kind of brute would he turn into when he’d gone the Full Monty and actually bonded with her?

  His tongue felt thick in his mouth. “Jessie, I’m…” Why is it so hard to say? “I don’t…What I mean is, that’s not... I don’t want to…” Lose you. The words stuck in his throat.

  “You have no reason to be jealous. Look, I need to help the guys—the bar’s swamped. We’ll talk later, okay?” A sudden bull horn sounded, raising the hairs on the back of Nate’s neck. “The Dead Enders must’ve wrapped up. Don’t forget to have Dante stop by. I gotta run!”

  “Jessie, wait.” His fingers clutched air. Letting her go was like severing his own limb.

  “Just relax and enjoy the show!”

  “I’d rather you wear my jacket. You’ll give them blue balls, Jessica,” he said, but she’d already melted into the crowd. Nate followed her path, knowing he’d be better off retreating to his office for the rest of the night.

  But he’d never been a man to do something just because he should.

  Dorian stepped down from a raised security platform halfway between the bar and the stage when Nate indicated with a jerk of his head that he was relieving him of his post. It was the perfect location where he could keep an eye on Jessie, yet far enough away that he couldn’t jump every other guy who tried to make a pass at her. The two minutes it would take to get to the bar would give him time to settle down and think before he acted.

  That was the plan anyway.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Immortalis take up the mic on the DJ’s platform.

  “What up, TERRA crew?! Can you give me a Happy Halloweeeeen?” He held the mic out to the crowd as they erupted in ecstatic screams. “Welcome to all you intrepid newcomers! We have no tricks—only treats—for you tonight! Those of you who partied here under the old management, listen up and tell me…what time is it?”

  Without skipping a beat the crowd hollered, “Midnight!”

  Immortalis bawled, “Oh come on, now! I said…What. Tiiime. IS IT?”

  “MIDNIGHT!”

  “Hell yeah, bitches! And you know what that meeeeeeans?”

  Nate’s heart hit the deck. Oh, damn. He wasn’t going to like this, was he?

  The music flared on a crazy drop beat. When José and Drake hoisted Jessie up on top of the bar, it dawned on Nate with a rush of heat why she’d requested that pole and over-head railing at her station. She started shaking her hips, making that red floofy skirt bounce all over the place.

  “JaaaaayBlaaaaze, y’all!!!!!” the DJ wailed. The crowd proceeded to go bat-shit crazy as Nate lunged toward the bar feeling every bit as wild and out of control as the gobby drunks he pushed out of his way. As he neared Jessie’s station, he dodged and swatted flying costume pieces of dubious origins that sailed toward the bar.

  Jessie swiveled her hips in time with the thick beat as she sling-shot a sequined bra back into the crowd. José tossed her a hot pink microphone. As soon as her ruby red lips opened Nate could only think of one thing.

  And he bet every other male with a pulse was having the same fantasy.

  That was it.

  She was coming down off that bar counter in five, four, three—

  “Happy Halloween, you sexy, scary crew! It’s only midnight so the party’s far from over. But right about now, I’m thinking there’s something you want. Am I right?” Jessie asked her adoring fans.

  Nate’s eyes were glued to his compar as chants of “Shots!” pealed out, over and over. Many of the men begged for tittie shots.

  Nate’s fist struck the nearest offender and dropped him like a ghetto anchor without a rope. When he turned around, Spencer was smirking at him in that arrogant way of his.

  “You cruising for a proper punch-up, mate?”

  Nate curled his lip at his buddy. “Not interested in a widespread fistfight, thanks. I’ll tell you this much, though, if I make it through the rest of the night without murdering one of these dozies, it’ll be a blooming miracle.”

  “Are you suuure?” Jessie held the mic out over the crowd to amplify their feverish screaming.

  Spencer grinned appreciatively up at Jessie as she paced—no, sauntered—across the top of the bar. Nate shoved Spencer sideways. Spencer apologized with aplomb to the group he’d rammed into before turning back to Nate with an even wider smile.

  “Hmm, your compar is rather fit, Nathaniel. Tis a wonder you haven’t burned the place to bloody ashes already.” Spencer paused and looked back up at Jessie. “I would have.”

  Talk of burning things to ashes took on a whole new meaning with Spencer since his element was fire.

  “I hope I’m around when you meet your soul’s match. We’ll see how stroppy you get.”

  Spencer laughed and slapped Nate on the back. “I fear you’ll be waiting a long time, chum.”

  José handed Jessie a bottle of tequila which she held up for all to see. “Are you party people tellin’ me you’re ready for some shots?!”


  The frat boys directly in front of her lost their minds, trying to touch her, making rude gestures with their mouths and fingers. Nate picked two of them up by the front of their shirts and threw them ten feet into the crowd. Spencer took his lead and dispatched the other two in a similar fashion. Nate nodded his thanks to the Guardian, then parked himself in front of Jessie’s position on the bar, reminding himself he wouldn’t—he just couldn’t—pull her down off that counter because it would humiliate her.

  And she was…having fun?

  Huh.

  That was actually a turn on when it really shouldn’t be.

  Right?

  He was seriously becoming a wally over her.

  Didn’t mean he couldn’t try to make himself as large and intimidating as possible, though. It wasn’t his fault if he couldn’t completely control the throat-choking vibes he pushed at any man who got within five feet of her.

  He’d have to recharge all his spent energy for days. Jessie would have to help him with that now, wouldn’t she? He smiled as he looked up at the woman who had stormed into his world on a burst of color that first day he’d chased after her school papers. The wind had attempted to carry them away when her car door had opened in the apartment parking lot.

  She’d come to mean so much to him in less than two months since that day.

  Jessie glanced down at him, winking as though she’d read his mind, and turned her attention back to the crowd. “Well, then, let’s do this! DJ Immortalis, give our TERRA crew what they want!”

  Shots by LMFAO burst from the speakers at an ear-splitting decibel as two dozen shot girls fanned out from the far left side of the bar. They held their loaded shot trays high above their heads as they snaked their way though the crowd to their designated serving locations.

  Nate spun toward Spencer as a cold sensation of dread gripped his gut. It called to mind the time he’d woken up on the floor next to his seven-year-old brother. Death had come for his younger sibling early in the night because his skin had already firmed and faded to a terrible bluish white when Nate had reached to shake him awake.