by ML Guida
In hell, there were no rules—every demon for himself.
Balthazar wanted the job done. How was this Ringmaster’s problem? Failure was not an option. Not unless he wanted a ten-foot long, red hot, pitch fork shoved up his ass. Thanks, but no thanks.
He walked toward the closed mahogany doors. He inhaled gardenias and half smiled. His sweet little angel was on the other side. Good. Showdown.
People were still staring at him and whispering. He snapped his fingers and vanished. Not a problem. Human minds were so easy to wipe out. They’d never remember the fight or him. He grinned as the music blared again, and people went back to drinking, partying, and indulging in debauchery.
Lisa’s oak executive desk sat in front of French glass doors. A gold desk lamp cast a soft glow on a laptop computer, but Lisa’s high-backed, black leather chair was empty, along with the matching, classical loveseat and two arm chairs. Books upon books filled tall oak cases. Flames flickered in a gas log fireplace, casting shadows. Where was his angel?
One of the French doors creaked opened by itself to reveal a small cement patio. There were two wicker chairs and a glass table. Lisa sat on one of the chairs. Her fat butt cheeks hung over the side. She stared at his spell board—his own special creation. He smiled—one of his more ingenious ideas. All Lisa had to do was either put a piece of paper on the board and write down what she wanted or rub her hand on the board and ask for her desire. No matter where he was, he’d hear. The board was ten times more powerful than a Ouija board.
A piece of paper was on top of the board. She pulled out a pen and started writing. Like always, the words called to him. She wanted him to make the pirate fall in love with her which was him—foolish woman. This would be way too easy. After one kiss, she was dead.
He’d granted all of her wishes. Or at least, she thought he had. He wasn’t called the Ringmaster for nothing. Compelling humans to do tricks were his specialty. Lisa was no exception, but this would be her last one. It was time to pay the Ringmaster.
“Lisa.” He made his voice a soft echo.
She jerked her head up and put her pen down. “Is someone there?”
“Lisa,” he whispered. “Come to me.”
Lisa stood and turned around. With dull eyes, she came toward him, her walk stiff like a robot’s.
“Time to die.”
Poison materialized behind Lisa. The moonlight highlighted her hair, and he swore she had a halo around her head. The outline of her muscular body drove him crazy. His heart pounded, and blood flooded toward his groin. Concentrate.
She followed Lisa inside and narrowed her silver eyes. “Who are you?” She pulled a vial from her pocket.
Crap, it was Sleep. He waved his hand. Lisa sat on the loveseat and stared straight ahead.
“No, gorgeous, she’s mine,” he said.
“Uh-uh, right,” Poison said. “What are you? You have a soul.”
Actually, he didn’t. “Me? That’s a strange question.” He gave her his most seductive smile. “Tonight, I’m a pirate.”
She shook the vial and walked toward Lisa. “Good for you. I’m a killer.”
Ringmaster darted forward and grabbed her wrist. “No.”
Poison glanced at her wrist and her eyes widened and she wrinkled her nose. He felt her shudder.
“You’re a demon, aren’t you? Don’t deny it. As soon as you touched me, I sensed it.”
He flinched from her icy tone. “What if I am?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Back off, demon.”
“She belongs to me,” he said.
She yanked her wrist free. “Not according to Michael.”
She edged around him, but he blocked her path. “You’ve lost this one, Angel.”
She cocked her eyebrow and vanished. He whirled around, but Lisa sat alone on the couch. The air crackled. Poison re-appeared, but this time, she clutched the spell board. At her fierce beauty, a wild ache formed in his belly. Tremors ran through his body, down his legs, and sent blood flowing into his groin. God, this angel broke his resolve.
“Give the board to me.” He reached for it, but she jerked it out of his grasp and stepped away.
He licked his lips. What if she discovered the connection between him and the board? It could be disastrous. Being summoned by an Angel of Death, even a Venus di Milo look-a-like, would suck. Balthazar would throw a heaven sword right through Ringmaster’s black heart.
Poison rubbed her hand over the face of the board, and he trembled. Her light touch on the piece of wood felt as if she ran her fingers down his chest. He broke out in a hot sweat. His cock grew hard and full, aching for her. He shifted on his feet. God, he wanted her. If she’d just asked, he’d satisfy her every sinful delight. Hell, he was so screwed.
Chapter Three
Poison frowned. Something was wrong. Whenever she smelled demons she inhaled a horrible stench, but not with this guy. Oh, Sweet Mother of Mercy. The ocean liner. Was it him? Ringmaster? He was her worst temptation. What would Michael say? “Why are you here, demon?” She gripped the board tighter. “And wearing that ridiculous outfit?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I came for the board.” He nodded toward Lisa. “And her.”
She shook her head. “No. I got here first. They’re both mine.”
“Oh, you think so.” He held up his hand. “I snap my fingers, and the bitch dies.”
Her heart stuck in her throat. Michael had said both. Anything less would be considered a big fat failure.
She remained perfectly still like he’d taught her.
Show no fear to demons, or you’ll be at their mercy.
The board vibrated as if it were alive, then someone hissed in her ear. She scanned the room. Lisa sat on the loveseat, her face petrified and her body rigid. The demon was only a few feet away. Was someone else here besides them? Did he have an ally?
His eyes turned red. “I need that board.”
Tingles swept over her, making her hair stand straight as an arrow. The demon’s power threatened to burst through. She was ready. Or at least, she hoped so. Raphael’s potion was about to be tested. He’d better be right, or she’d better get used to shooting arrows. She took a step toward Lisa. “Get used to disappointment.”
He darted in front of her.
She was forced to look up. “What are you doing?”
“My boss doesn’t tolerate failure.”
Neither did hers, and her damn job was on the line. “Not my problem.” She was too close. His scent of burning wood fired flutters in all the wrong places. “Your spell won’t work on me.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play games with me. I’m not an idiot.”
“You may be many things, angel, but idiot isn’t one of them.”
The low, rolling timbre of his voice whooshed shivers down her back. Fear? No. It was something else. She refused to name it. It was a spell. That’s all. She was an Angel of Death, not a simpering human. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “It’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“You’re talking in—”
Before she could finish, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against his broad chest. He stared down at her, his eyes burning with desire. He tilted his head and kissed her, parting her lips with his demanding tongue, and she tasted his hot mouth, not foul, but spicy. Her blood heated, and her heart pumped hard. Her breasts pressed against his chest and grew heavy, aching with need. What was she doing? It was his damn sorcery. She had to escape before her reason was chipped away and she gave into temptation.
She gripped the board tight and pushed one hand against his chest, but only got a groan from him. He dug his fingers into her shoulders, and he swept his tongue into the recesses of her mouth, stirring a passion she’d long denied.
The kiss deepened. A flood of heat washed over her, then pooled between her legs. More kisses like this, and she’d end up his slave. Never. She broke away and panted. “Please stop.”
H
e planted feather kisses down her neck. “I’ll make a bargain with you.”
Dread shot through her. This wasn’t going to be good. Remember Michael. Wanton indulgence was a sin. Making it with a demon would land her on Michael’s enemy-number-one list. “What?”
“Kiss me again, and I’ll let you have whichever one you want,” he said, as he sucked on her neck.
“Not good enough. I want both.”
He released her and stared hard. Sweat trickled between her breasts. His whiskers had chaffed her skin where he had nuzzled her, but surprisingly, she’d enjoyed it. Stop. Get control of yourself. This is a mission, not a dip in the man-candy-jar.
She groaned as she glimpsed at the clock over the fireplace mantle. She only had a little over an hour. Damn it! She wasn’t going to fail. Not again. “I don’t have time for these games, demon.”
“Games? It seems to me you’re quite desperate, sweet angel.”
She bristled but clamped her mouth shut. What was he up to? She ran her thumb over the top of the board. What was this thing? Why had Michael kept its power secret from her? Like Blade, she should have demanded answers, but no, she always played the obedient soldier. Blade had warned her blind loyalty would lead to trouble.
The demon’s hat still cast a shadow on his face, and all she could see was those red glowing eyes. She bit her lips and clutched the board with both hands. Maybe it was the board. Did it cast a shameless, lustful incantation?
Maybe if she stalled him and pretended to go along she’d get the board and Lisa. She glared. “Name your price.”
Stepping away from her, he studied the board in her hands, then Lisa. He rubbed his chin. “Kissing will not allow you to have both.”
“Meaning?”
He flashed his gaze over her. “Let me do to you what I want for one hour, and I’ll let you have both the spell board and Lisa.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks, bringing a sexy smile to his lips. She wanted to slap it right off his smug face but refused to give into sin. Stay calm. “Spell board?”
He dropped his hand and stood in front of the fireplace. “Yes, it’s one of my inventions.”
The flickering light outlined his powerful form, and desire swept through her. She cursed the passion gushing through her traitorous body. “What does it do?”
“Grants humans their heart’s desire.”
She stiffened. Demons never gave anything away for free. Hadn’t humans ever listened to the old adage that if it was too good to be true, then it probably wasn’t? “At what price?”
“Only their soul.”
She nodded at Lisa. “Does she know?”
He removed a silver ring from his right finger and placed it on the mantle. She had an urge to look at the ring, but in the dark room, she couldn’t make out its shape. She took a step toward the fireplace, but the demon blocked her way. Icy chills cruised over her body, and the hair on her arms lifted. Had she seen the ring before? Was he trying to hide it?
The demon peeled off his black gloves and tossed them onto a nearby chair. “No, but then again, she wouldn’t care.”
She met his dark face. “Why do you say that?”
He took off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. “Aren’t you wondering why she’s wearing that skimpy outfit on such an obese body?”
She frowned. “She doesn’t know she looks like this, does she?”
“No, she thinks she looks like a Sports Illustrated model.”
She gritted her teeth. “You’re a bastard.”
He shrugged. “Level four demon.” He moved toward her.
She squared her shoulders, back refusing to cower.
“Now, let me tell you what little Lisa did. She requested a rival of hers, competing for the same managerial position, to have a car accident, and now the woman is in a nursing home with a permanent brain injury. Lisa got the job and thinks everyone loves her.”
Poison lifted her eyebrow. “They don’t?”
“No, they hate her guts. She’s a two-faced bitch.”
Interesting a demon resented this behavior. “Is that all?”
“Not devious enough for you? There’s more—much more. She asked for her brother to die so she could inherit their parents’ money and this house, but she doesn’t know the electricity is faulty and it’s about to burn to the ground.”
“A little over dramatic, don’t you think?”
He drummed his fingers on the mantel. “Not really. Every wish she asked for was granted…but there’s always a trick to it.”
“That’s not playing by the rules.”
He laughed. “Rules? What rules? Hell is full of women like her.” He thrust his thumb at Lisa. “Don’t care how they get their desires just as long as they get them. No questions asked.”
He sauntered over to her. Poison tried to ignore his tempting lips. She shouldn’t want to kiss him again. What was wrong with her?
He bent his head and his warm breath rushed over her. “Now you know why we want her. The question is why does your boss want her?”
“That’s none of your affair.”
He caressed her arm. “Meaning, you have no idea.”
She trembled but tilted her chin and narrowed her eyes. She was strong, heaven strong. “Like I said, it’s none of your concern.”
“How bad do you want her and my spell board?”
She glared. Bad—real bad. “What about Balthazar?”
“Let me worry about him.” He lowered his head. His lips brushed against hers. “Do we have a deal?”
She clenched her fists. What choice did she have? Time was slipping by, and she detested returning to heaven as a gigantic loser. How bad could this be? She wasn’t repelled by the demon, but why couldn’t it be Ringmaster? Holy Temptation, she should, but no, she wasn’t in the least. It had been so long…
Her body betrayed her as desire surged through her and she trembled with anticipation. “Yes, damn you. We do.”
Chapter Four
Ringmaster sucked in his breath at her answer. What was that stupid human saying? Oh, yeah. It was knocking him over with a feather. He took his hat off and threw it onto the floor. He cleared his throat and stepped away. “Take it off.”
Poison stared. “What about you?”
“Not yet,” he said. “My rules. Time’s ticking.”
“Fine.” She laid the spell board on the floor within easy each. Wariness filled her eyes. Obviously, she didn’t trust him. Who could blame her? He was demon. Deceit was his middle name.
Not taking her eyes off him, she grabbed the end of her green T-shirt and ripped it over her head. When she unclasped her lacy white bra, freeing her beautiful, perfect breasts, blood rushed to his throbbing cock, and it hardened, pushing against his zipper. Damn it, please don’t let me explode.
He licked his lips eager to taste her rosy nipples. Heat glowed on her face and neck. He was a heel, but he wanted her. Screw Balthazar.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
Poison avoided his gaze and kicked off her shoes, then yanked her pants down those firm legs. She had on matching lacy underwear. He wanted to slowly tug them down her silky thighs, but she pulled them off, revealing her soft, feminine, blond curls.
She tilted her chin. “Now, what?”
“Lay down.” His voice croaked, and he wasn’t sure she’d heard him, since she looked at him with quizzical eyes. His heart pounded hard, and a flash of sweat rushed over him. What if he couldn’t please her? He’d never been with an angel, and she was exquisite. Lovelier than a bouquet of calla lilies.
Poison stretched out on the red carpet and opened her legs.
He knelt down and stared at her comeliness.
She gritted her teeth, and her body went rigid. “Get it over with.”
He laughed. “No, sweetheart, you deserve better than a quickie. I need something to remember before I face my boss.”
She frowned. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because you’re worth i
t.” And she was. This night had to sustain him. Since the sinking cruise ship, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Now, she lay naked, ready to submit to him. For failing his mission, Balthazar would torture him until the hell hounds came home, but he didn’t care.
She watched him warily as if she were afraid he’d rape her—as if. He wanted her climaxing and remembering this night forever.
He skimmed his hands along her silky, trembling legs. Her satin skin shot desire sizzling through his veins and pooling in his belly. He wanted to touch every inch of her, explore every sensitive erotic zone, but time was against him. He wished he had eternity to pleasure her, but he didn’t. Balthazar was anything but patient. He wouldn’t wait forever. He’d come himself, hunting for Lisa and the board.
Ringmaster bent his head and kissed her slowly, trying to relax her. He explored her mouth deeper, and he moved his hands along her curves. He squeezed her breast gently and pinched her nipple. She squirmed beneath him, her nipple budding in his hand. She responded to his kiss and moved her slender fingers over his back. He could remain here all night kissing her, but there wasn’t time. He’d promised her one hour.
He took leave of her mouth to suckle her nipple, his tongue swirling, laving her until she was panting. She threaded her fingers through his hair and arched her back. More luscious flesh filled his mouth. Her soft moans sent his head spinning. He’d dreamed of this moment for so long he wanted to savor it as long as he could, before Balthazar dragged him back to Hell.
He left her breast and planted kisses down her firm torso, paying close attention to her belly button.
