by Krista Walsh
Her demon writhed with want, and she brushed her fingers over her dress to settle her growing hunger. One appetite would have to replace another for tonight. Especially after Monique, she couldn’t take the chance of being the cause of a second questionable death at the Garden.
She just needed something to settle her nerves. A few hours of bliss to remind her of who and what she was so she could find her courage for the morning.
Her skin ached at the thought of fingers running down her arms and over her chest, of the completion that came at the moment of joining and the peak of pleasure.
She continued to stare at the back of the man’s neck, at the way his dark hair shone with raven-like gloss under the lights. A moment later, the muscles of his back tightened, and Allegra thought of what Lee had said, about how humans have a sixth sense for when they’re being watched.
A residual effect of human evolution, she guessed. A security measure to ensure they remained the hunter instead of the prey.
This time, it wouldn’t work so well for him. She didn’t deal well with being hunted.
The man shifted against the railing, his gaze locking with hers.
She widened her smile, recognizing the face of Grace’s editor-in-chief, Matthew Austen, a man she had only crossed paths with twice in her four-month career with the magazine. Both times, she’d appreciated his figure and the spice of his cologne, but the events had always been too busy for her to notice the rawness of his energy.
The spotlight glinted off the smooth line of his jaw as he returned her smile. She raised her glass in an invitation for him to join her, and he replied with a subtle nod that sent a cascade of fireworks shooting through her body.
Allegra bit her lip and watched him navigate his way through the crowd, greeting familiar faces with a smile but never pausing to speak with anyone for longer than a few brief words.
In no time, he stood beside her. She caught the way his gaze traveled from her heeled shoe up her leg to the silk stretched across her torso before lingering on the scooped neckline of her dress. He looked up and met her eye.
“Ms. Rossi,” he said. His voice was deep, and against the loudness of the room, it vibrated in her ears and up into her skull.
She tilted her head to expose the length of her neck. “Mr. Austen.”
“Not a fan of the party?” he asked, gesturing to the distance she’d created between herself and the crowd.
“I prefer more intimate gatherings. Although it was a lovely choice of champagne.”
She sipped her drink and glided across the bench to give Matthew room to sit down. He set his frosted pint on the table and took the offered seat.
“How are you enjoying the hotel?” he asked.
Allegra crossed her leg toward him. “It’s quiet. Private. I commend your choice of location.”
“What can I say — I do what’s best for my employees.”
“Though apparently you aren’t capable of stepping back while they enjoy their perks.”
“How so?”
“Is that not why you came here tonight? You were envious of the rest of us having a good time without you?”
Matthew chuckled, and the sound came from low in his throat.
From the little Allegra knew of her boss, Matthew Austen was much like her in a number of ways, not least being his love for the expensive and indulgent. He never appeared in the studio in anything but tailored suits and Italian shoes. He drove a silver Porsche and rarely arrived at a party without the Grace model of the month on his arm.
She admired his taste and, being so close to him now, understood how it was that life had bent its knee to his whims. He was human, she sensed that, but he carried a presence that usually belonged to species of her world. His confidence and self-assurance had turned him into a man worth following.
“I wouldn’t say it went as far as envy,” he said, “but I do enjoy a good time.”
His dark eyes bore into hers, and Allegra’s skin flushed with his closeness. The energy she’d sensed from him across the room didn’t disappoint now that he was right beside her. He hadn’t touched her, and yet her whole body responded to him. She tasted the salt of his skin and felt the warmth of his mouth on hers.
Her lips parted, and she took a sip of her champagne, the coolness even more pronounced against her rising heat.
Although she knew the effects her actions would have on her reputation — the usual condescension that came whenever one of the models slept with someone in Grace’s upper echelon — for tonight, she was going to throw her rule book to the wind. By the glaze in Matthew’s eyes and the way his breath quickened, her magic had already done its work in reeling him in.
She ran the tip of her index finger along his jawline. His breath hitched, and he traced his fingers against her collarbone.
The anticipation of his touch had done nothing to prepare her for the current that scurried under her skin when he actually made contact. Fire kissed each pore of her body, small shocks shooting off at the faintest brush. She stretched her neck toward him, and Matthew bent his head to hers, his mouth no more than an inch away, so close she could smell the spices of his aftershave and the hint of cinnamon and hops from his beer.
“I must say,” he said, “you take me by surprise, Ms. Rossi. For a woman who acts as cold as you do, I never imagined I’d find so much warmth.”
Allegra chuckled and curled her fingers beneath his collar, inching him closer. She caressed his shin with her calf and dragged her leg over his until it rested across his knee.
“Life is no fun when a woman gives herself away too easily. Much better to keep people guessing.”
Beyond them, the party grew louder as the guests got drunker. The music slowed to a beat that drove a steady pattern into Allegra’s core, her heartbeat fluttering to match the tempo.
Matthew’s hand eased down her side to trap her waist, and he dipped his head to catch her lips.
Allegra drew in a slow, deep breath as he kissed her, inhaling the soft smell of him, absorbing his flavor. So rich, like caramel. She wanted more.
She began to pull away, but Matthew’s lips never left her, leaving a trail over her jaw into the crook of her neck. Allegra’s legs went weak where she sat, and she was tempted to take him right there at the table.
Then Courtney’s sharp laugh from across the room cut through the haze of desire clouding Allegra’s mind. She jerked away from Matthew and he stared at her in surprise, his lips parted, his breath quick.
She flicked her tongue over his bottom lip. “Why do we not slip out early and go to my room? I have plans for you, and they cannot be carried out in the closeness of this booth.”
Matthew grinned and ran his fingers through her hair, closing his fist around the thick locks and giving them a gentle tug. “I think that would be a very smart move.”
His hands moved over her back as she glided off the bench and edged her way out of the bar. As she headed across the lobby and up the stairs, she was aware of unseen eyes watching her from the archway of the darkened salon, but she paid them no heed. Her priorities were set.
She opened the door to her room and swung it shut with her foot as she pushed Matthew onto the bed. He tried to sit up, but she leaped on top of him and straddled his waist. Smiling, she pulled off his tie and slipped it over his eyes, tying the knot tight behind his head. He moaned and reached blindly for her, but she dodged his grip and slid her hand up the inside of his thigh. He hissed and bucked his hips to throw her off balance.
Allegra chuckled deep in her throat and allowed him to ease her onto her back. She would permit him to believe he had the upper hand for a time. Hooking her leg around his hip, she guided his hand to her knee. He trailed his fingers along her thigh and under her dress, sliding them up to her waist. She tugged the bottom of his shirt out of his pants and ran her fingers along his spine, appreciating his warmth. As her fingers explored his body, she scratched her fingernails into his back. He arched against the sting and pres
sed himself closer to her.
She reached to undo his belt, but he glided his fingertips up her arms to grab her wrists and pin them above her head with one hand. Allegra’s eyes shot wide. She was no stranger to a man who took charge, but typically her drive to stay in control pushed her to claim superiority. Her mouth went dry and her heartbeat quickened as she realized that, for tonight, she didn’t want control. She wanted to lose it with this stranger and put the rest of the day behind her.
Allowing him to guide the way, she closed her eyes and let herself be carried away on the current of her pleasure.
7
Allegra opened her eyes to the sun pouring through the uncovered window. Her joints were as fluid as jelly, her muscles nothing but butter melting under the warmth of the bedspread.
She released a contented moan and tucked her arm beneath her pillow. Nothing came close to sex for empowering a person against the challenges of the day.
She stretched and rolled onto her back, then turned her head toward the empty space beside her. A broad smile stretched across her face. Matthew must have let himself out at some point during the night, just as she would have preferred it. By now, he would be back at the office, a handsome and satisfying memory. A faint ripple of surprise ran through her that his leaving hadn’t woken her, but she blamed it on the extent of her physical exertions the night before.
The taste of his energy lingered on her tongue from the sips she’d taken throughout their encounter — not enough to hurt him, just enough to bolster her strength and curtail her appetite. To her amazement, he tasted even better than he smelled. Hints of vanilla and nutmeg drifted over her taste buds, and all she wanted was to lie in bed reliving the sensations he’d awoken in her.
She was happy with how the night had gone and appreciated his class in leaving on his own before she had to send him away. One less drama to worry about. Now she was free to luxuriate in her relaxed state and avoid everything else.
The reminder that she had anything to avoid wiped the smile from her face. She tugged the bedspread over her chest and crossed her arms over top. In the delirium of last night’s pleasure, she’d almost forgotten about the sword hanging over her head. For a few brief hours, her life had returned to its simple, indulgence-driven pace. Her demon had been sated, her control over it reaffirmed, and the largest issue she had faced was whether to let Matthew continue on top or assume her authority over the encounter.
In the end, of course, she’d taken over. She never enjoyed being submissive for long.
Now, as sleep drifted away, reality returned to her — the awareness that some breed of undead creature was stalking her from the corners of the hotel, waiting for her to slip so it could finish what it had started yesterday.
She wouldn’t give it the opportunity. These monsters had already pushed her too far and, in spite of the sips of Matthew’s energy she’d consumed last night, her talons were itching to come out. She pushed down the climbing restlessness. Even if she were in the middle of nowhere with no witnesses, she still wouldn’t be willing to let her instincts take over. It would take too much power to win against the unseen enemy, and if she fueled that side of her, she couldn’t guarantee she would have the strength to rein it in afterward. She would revert to a monster, exactly as her family had always encouraged.
It’s a part of who you are, Allegra, Aunt Louisa had told her. Even she, with her posh lifestyle, her Italian villa, and her many lovers, hadn’t understood the revulsion Allegra felt toward being a demon.
Allegra had grown up surrounded by sixty-three succubi and incubi siblings, each fighting for their parents’ favor and notice. She had been one of six to receive it, proving herself with her cunning and creativity. As soon as she’d turned eight, she’d been chosen for apprenticeship and shown how to become more than a beast. Her rejected brothers and sisters were left to compete for a place in the family, wheedling the numbers down through fights and clever traps. Only eight of them survived past puberty.
Aunt Louisa had adopted Allegra when she was fourteen, choosing her as the only one of the six apprentices to receive more specialized training. Louisa had taught her how to select the best men — the ones whose souls would satisfy her hunger the longest, the ones who would be easiest to subdue — how to lure them in and build up their lust to change the flavor of their energy. She’d taught her how to dress and carry herself, how to behave in polite society and maintain her image, how to be the highlight of any room or go unnoticed when she needed to.
She’d also been the one to teach Allegra how to seduce a man and how to kill him. The first part, Allegra had loved, while the second had turned her stomach. She enjoyed the sensation of taking a man’s essence into herself, but the end result went against every other lesson she’d been taught. Beauty before everything else, she’d been told — and death was not beautiful.
“It is in its own way,” Louisa had tried to explain to her. “Succubi are perfection. We are designed to be everything a man can want. We offer them a moment of pure pleasure, but like everything else in life, the gift comes at a price. And we appreciate what we receive, without being greedy. We live without guilt, without fear, without grief. We live for the pleasures of the moment, for the beauty in every touch and glance. We are instinct, and there is nothing more beautiful than that.”
The words followed Allegra every time she took a meal to bed, and she was still wishing for the day she could accept them as true.
She turned her thoughts away from her useless memories and toward the mundane resources that would help her solve her current issue. She would not set loose her own monster, so she needed to find an alternative defense.
The problem was that she didn’t know what weapons she might need. She knew she wouldn’t get anything more useful out of Lee — yes, he’d acquired twelve years of knowledge from watching these ghouls, but he had never faced them himself. Also, he was only human, so he wasn’t strong enough or experienced enough to help her eradicate them.
Tim wasn’t likely to offer any assistance, and she doubted Cody knew anything Lee didn’t. She accepted that help would need to come from outside the hotel, but from whom? It wasn’t like she had a wide network of friends who could step up to offer aid. She tapped her thumb against the back of her hand while she laid out her options.
Once upon a time, she might have gone to her brother. Antony’s knowledge of the otherworld had always been greater than her own, although the reason for it left a sour taste in her mouth. She’d found out how unpleasant his means had been of obtaining his information — torture for the sake of research. All of that was irrelevant now, though. Antony was dead, and she would need to seek help elsewhere.
From Antony, her thoughts drifted to the other strangers she’d met in Jermaine’s magically sealed room. If something about that room had bound the six of them together, perhaps it was her turn to make use of the connection. Her lip curled in distaste at the thought of it, but she knew she had no other choice. Her dreams and the darkness growing over New Haven had already pushed the group together over the last three weeks. Despite her repugnance, she had gone out of her way to offer help. Now it would be someone else’s turn to do the same for her.
Daphne Heartstone came to mind first. The sorceress would likely have an idea or two about how to go to war with the undead, and her magic could speed up the process of taking them down. But she was also a journalist for the crime division of the New Haven Chronicle. The last thing Allegra wanted was to have the Garden Hotel on the front page of the Saturday edition because of what had happened to Monique. People might ask where Daphne had received her tip, and if Allegra was pinned as the source, her reputation would be at risk. Many under-the-table affairs took place behind the curtains of the fashion industry, and she prided herself on her ability to keep a secret. If it became known she’d blabbed to the press about how Monique had died, influential people might be less inclined to trust her in the future.
Even more important than h
er professional reputation, though, was her public image. It was one thing for the hotel cook to believe she had an interest in the supernatural — it was quite another for people in her circles to think so.
If not Daphne, then maybe Gabriel Mulligan? The roguish Gorgon-Fae had starred in more than one dream of the pleasurable variety since they’d last parted. He’d opened his own private detective agency a few months before Allegra settled in town, and already his name was being passed around for his efficiency and discretion in getting the job done. Yes, he’d had to sully his reputation by opening his doors to the mundane cases as well as the otherworldly, but the skills he’d picked up would come in handy for her current predicament.
She thought of how nice it would be to spend more time around his smooth, chiseled face. Perhaps tempt him to break his ban on social interaction long enough to come up to her room…
But while her body urged her to reignite their acquaintanceship, her rational mind told her it would be a foolish idea. Gabe, while shrewd and smart enough to be discreet, would stick out like an off-label brand at the Garden. She doubted he would be able to afford the cost of a room here, let alone masquerade as a guest. Although he had the face for a modeling career, his lack of fashion sense would give him away too easily.
No, he wouldn’t do at all.
She ran her mind over the other three people who had sat around that large round table. The human would be of no use — not only was she too young, she hadn’t even known the otherworldly existed until she was thrown into the middle of it — and the lumbering angel-demon who trailed after the young woman, calling himself her personal protector, would stand out even more than Gabe.
That left Vera Goodall. From what Allegra remembered of Vera’s brief account of herself, she was the descendant of a god, a vengeance demigoddess — semi-goddess, as she referred to herself — in her own right, who ran a bookstore here in town. Allegra suspected that a bookstore run by a member of the otherworld would have all sorts of information she needed. She could take in the comfort of a local shop without anyone in the hotel being the wiser about her purpose for visiting.
