engine. “This baby isn’t getting parked along the street. Someone might touch it.”
His love for his car made him so human in that moment, it was hard not to smile. He got out of the car and had opened my door before I could even blink.
Bowing at the waist, he extended his arm. “May I escort you?”
I couldn’t hide my smile then. Placing my hand in his, I let him pull me out of the car. He threaded his fingers through mine, and I felt like I was on a roller coaster. “So what do you do with your car when you’re...uh, downstairs?”
“Remember Cayman? He’s a good friend. Keeps an eye on it.”
Glancing down at our joined hands, I almost tripped over a crack in the pavement. “You have friends?”
“Ow.”
I cracked a grin. “What? It’s an honest question.”
“There’s some like me who live in my apartment building. I trust them.”
“Really?”
He nodded, tugging me down the incline leading to the lower levels of the parking garage. Overhead lights spaced every few feet cast patches of light along the aisles, reflecting off the hoods of cars. “So, yeah, Cayman takes care of my baby while I’m downtown.”
“Cayman seems an odd name for a demon.”
He laughed deeply. “Cayman is an infernal ruler who remains topside. He, like most infernal rulers, is a demon manager. He keeps them in check and reports back with weekly and monthly updates. He’s also like an assistant to me.”
So middle management existed even in Hell.
I shook my head as we rounded the second level and, as if by unspoken agreement, both of us came to a complete stop. A bone-deep dread settled in my stomach like stones. My feet felt rooted to the cement. Roth dropped my hand and stepped forward, his eyes narrowed.
Before I could ask what was happening, the overhead lights began to flicker. Then, in rapid succession, they blew out one after another, showering sparks like raindrops. Each explosion was like a gunshot. Only one light remained, wavering rapidly.
Thick shadows seeped from between the cars, shooting up the walls. A clicking noise filled the air as the shadows crawled up, swallowing the red EXIT sign and covering half the ceiling. The shadows rippled and pulsed, and for a stuttered heartbeat, they swelled like an overripe berry and then stilled.
Roth cursed.
As though a string had been cut, the shadows dropped, blanketing the floor before us in a thick, boiling oil slick. Out of the mess, columns shot into the air, over a dozen of them taking form in a nanosecond. Their bodies hunched over, lumps protruding from their skin and bony backs. Fingers bent and sharpened into claws. Pointy ears flattened and horns broke through hairless scalps. Their skin was a pasty gray and wrinkled in heavy layers, nearly overcoming the red, beady eyes. Thick, ratlike tails slapped off the ground.
Rack demons were from the inner bowels of Hell—the kind that spent an eternity torturing souls. And we were completely surrounded.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
There was a reason why these kinds of demons were never topside, and it wasn’t their good looks. Racks fed off the pain of others, and if they didn’t have souls to torture, they didn’t sit around and wait.
Roth groaned. “Okay. Which one of you was fed after midnight? Because you’re worse than a mogwai.”
“Mogwais are cute,” I couldn’t help but protest. “These things are not.”
“But mogwais turn into mohawked gremlins, so...”
I shot him a look as I took a step back, nearly gagging on the rank smell of sulfur. “Uh, do you think they want to capture me or kill me?”
“You know, at this point, I’m not sure it matters.” Roth’s voice was grim.
One of the Racks opened its mouth, revealing a mouthful of serrated, sharklike teeth. It made a series of cringing clicks, and whatever language it spoke was completely lost on me, but Roth’s brows shot up.
“I think they want to take you somewhere. Perhaps on a honeymoon retreat?” He shook out his hands. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Let’s do this.”
And that was like ringing the dinner bell for some really hungry salvage-yard dogs. As one, the demons launched themselves at Roth.
I started forward, but Roth’s harsh voice rang out. “Stay out of this, Layla!”
Then he dropped low and kicked out, catching the first demon and knocking its bent legs right out from underneath it. Moving lightning quick, he sprung up as the demon staggered to its feet. Roth reached out, avoiding the thing’s snapping jaws, and placed his hand on its forehead.
A flash of red light came from Roth’s palm, dousing the Rack’s head. Whatever was in Roth’s touch or the light, it was like gasoline. Fire lit up the demon, glowing from its eye sockets and open mouth. Half a second later, the Rack was a pile of ash.
“Jeez,” I whispered.
Throwing a wink over his shoulder at me, Roth shot forward, taking out three Rack demons with a swipe of his arm. Fire swarmed them, incinerating their bodies. Three more came forward, dropping low and hissing.
They advanced on Roth. He stood there, head cocked to the side, and then he lifted his right arm. From the sleeve of his sweater, a twisty, dark entity spilled into the space before him.
The shadow broke into a thousand marble-sized dots and then they hit the floor, shooting together faster than the eye could track.
“Bambi,” I whispered.
In a heartbeat, the huge snake was coiled between the Rack demons and Roth, raising its diamond-shaped head high, until it was poised directly above the Rack demons.
The approaching Racks fell back a step.
“It’s dinnertime, baby,” Roth said. “And Papa brought you to an all-you-can-eat buffet.”
Bambi shot forward, striking the closest Rack demon. The thing screamed as Bambi’s fangs tore through skin and meat. I swallowed hard, wanting to look away from the disturbing sight, but unable to. My stomach roiled as an inky-black substance flew through the air, splattering off the pavement.
Stalking the remaining demons, Roth let out a low laugh that brought chills to my skin. He toyed with them, drawing two of the Racks out and then striking, clearly enjoying himself.
Bambi’s huge body was slithering across the scuffed pavement as she tracked another Rack that dared to advance. But Roth—oh, God—he was surrounded now. There was no way he could take out six Racks on his own, no matter how awesome his fiery touch of death was.
Sucking in a breath, I ignored Roth’s order and pushed down the fear. There was no way I could stand here and do nothing.
“Hey,” I called out. “What about me?”
Three of the Racks swung toward me, their mouths dropping open in a silent scream.
“No!” Roth yelled out.
They rushed me.
“Crap,” I muttered, heart tumbling over itself.
Muscles tightened in my stomach and legs as I tried to remember all of Zayne’s boring self-defense lessons. He used to preach about getting in the zone or something lame like that, anticipating the enemy’s next move. Which I was pretty sure involved one or more Rack demons eating my leg.
The first one reached me and instinct finally took over. I jumped back, twisting halfway as I kicked out, catching the Rack in the stomach. It went down on one knee. No time to celebrate that small victory.
Spinning around, I threw out my arm in a clean sweep, catching the next Rack demon in the throat. The frail bone crunched as it staggered back a step and then shot toward me. Throwing back my arm, I closed my hand and coldcocked the ugly bastard in its jaw.
The Rack demon went down, out cold like a mofo.
I looked up, meeting Roth’s stunned gaze. “What? I can throw a punch.”
Pride and something else filled his eyes—something like attraction churned in the tawny depths. As if seeing me punch a demon was tantamount to seeing me in a string bikini, and that was kind of weird. But then that look vanished and fear seeped in, expanding his pupils.
“Layla!”
Hot, wretched breath hissed along the side of my cheek.
Jerking around, I came face-to-face with a Rack demon. Making the ear-bleeding clicking noise, it shot toward me, reaching out with one clawed hand.
Oh, Hell to the no.
Spinning around, I started to dip like Zayne had taught me. I felt the Rack grab the open air above me. Darting under its arm, I started to bring my knee up, but the demon changed sides. Before the words “oh, crap” could form, pins and needles of pain exploded along my spine.
Fire sliced through my palms and my jeans tore along my knees as I hit the cold cement. A cry punched out a second before weight hit me once more. Throwing my head back, I ended up a second away from eating pavement.
Raw, unbridled panic clawed up my throat as the Rack got a handful of my hair and then grabbed the hand that bore Lilith’s ring.
And then it let go so fast that my head snapped forward. It flew through the air and hit something behind me—maybe a car? Flipping over, I saw Bambi streak across the pavement, hitting the Rack before it could regain its footing. I scanned the parking garage, seeing some piles of ash and some gross-looking gunk, but no more demons.
Roth knelt in front of me, grabbing my wrists. “What the Hell were you thinking, Layla?”
“What?” I tried to pull free, but he flipped my hands over, inspecting my scuffed palms. “I wasn’t just going to stand there. I know how to fight.”
His eyes narrowed on the pink skin and then flipped up to mine. “Who taught you all that? Stony the gargoyle?”
I made a face. “His name is Zayne, and yes.”
Roth shook his head as his thumb smoothed around my palms. “Watching you kick ass was incredibly hot—like really, really hot. But if you ever do anything like that again, I will throw you over my shoulders and spank your—”
“You finish that sentence and I’m going to introduce my knee to a certain part of your anatomy.”
His gaze dropped and he winced. “Okay. You win. I’ve seen your kicks.”
I started to respond, but Bambi slithered up and placed its horse-sized head on my shoulder. Every muscle in my body locked up and I squeezed my eyes shut. There was a puff of air, stirring the hair along my temple. Bambi’s forked tongue shot out, tickling the side of my neck.
“Hey, look, Bambi likes you.”
I pried one eye open. “And if she didn’t?”
“Oh, you’d know, ’cause she would’ve eaten you by now.”
* * *
My palms stung a little, but all in all, it could have been worse. Both of us were alive and Bambi was back where she belonged, on Roth’s skin. Someone was increasing their efforts, and by bringing Rack demons into the mix, things would only get worse from here.
“Do you think your place is safe?”
“No demon would dare to come any closer to my place. And before you accuse me of having an unnecessary ego, there are too many demons here that would get all angry-faced if their turf was invaded.”
I sure hoped that was the case. I really didn’t want a round two with Racks. Adrenaline still coursed through my veins, kicking my heart against my ribs. If I had been alone tagging demons and run into them... I didn’t even want to think about that. Usually demons were nocturnal because it was easier for them to blend in among humans when the sun started to set. For the Racks to be out like that? So not good.
My eyes were peeled wide as we headed through the front door of the apartment building into a brightly lit lobby. The last time I’d been here, I’d gone out the side entrance, so all of this was new to me.
A huge golden chandelier hung from the center of the mural-covered ceiling. The painting was...uh, interesting? Angels covered the vast ceiling, depicted in hard-core battle scenes. They were fighting one another with fiery swords. Some were falling through frothy white clouds. Time had been spent on their expressions. The grimaces of pain and the righteous gleam in their eyes looked far too real.
Yikes.
Old-school leather couches and chairs were spaced under the lighting fixture. The air carried a faint and not unpleasant smell of coffee and tobacco, and it looked like there was a coffee shop or something behind the darkened doors straight across the lobby.
It all had a very old-Hollywood hotel feel to it. I almost expected the ghost of Marilyn Monroe to appear out of thin air. The lobby wasn’t empty, but I was sure nobody here was rocking any human DNA.
Demons were everywhere, sprawled along the couches, talking on cell phones, curled up in chairs, reading books, and some were clustered in small groups.
Roth placed a hand on my back, steering me toward the stairs. “No elevator?” I asked.
“None that you’d want to get on.” At the look on my face, he smiled. “The elevators here only go down.”
Whoa. I’d known there were...doorways all around the city and the world. Common sense said there had to be, because how else would demons go back and forth? But no one, and especially not the Wardens, knew where they were, and I’d definitely never seen one. The fact that Roth would bring me here and tell me there was a portal was astronomically stupid.
In the stairwell, he slid me a knowing look. “I trust that you will not tell Stony about our elevator system.”
The thing was, I wasn’t planning to. I kept thinking of the Fiends and those in the lobby. They all looked so...so normal.
“Layla?” he questioned.
“I won’t.” And I meant that. “Besides, I’ve kept my mouth shut about everything else and I’m supposed to be at school right now.”
He nodded and we headed upstairs. Seeing his loft again—his bed—left me feeling out of sorts. While Roth went over to his piano, I mumbled something about going to the bathroom and ducked inside it. My face felt ungodly hot, my pulse out of control.
His bathroom was nice, surprisingly tidy and spacious. I hadn’t noticed that last time. Matching black towels hung beside the clawed tub and shower stall. The faucets were gilded in gold. I had a feeling it was real gold, too. I took my time, trying to calm the pounding in my chest.
I’m here to talk about where the Lesser Key could be. That’s all. The fact that I want him to kiss me has absolutely nothing to do with this visit. At all—and I don’t really want him to kiss me.
God, my inner monologue sounded nuts.
When I opened the door, he was sitting by the piano, idly teasing the black kitten with one hand and a glass of—was that wine?—in the other. Late-morning sunlight from the nearby windows cast a halo around him. No boy should look as good as he did, and especially no demon. I busied myself looking around his room, suddenly shy. There was something intimate about being in his loft again.
Roth looked up, eyeing me over the rim of his glass. “There’s a glass here for you if you wish.”
I inched closer to him. “No, thank you. Your...place is nice. I’m not sure if I told you that last time.”
He chuckled and stood. “Figured you wouldn’t.” He stopped in front of me, pulling my hand away from my hair. “Stop fidgeting. I’m not going to ravish you.”
Feeling myself turn three shades of red, I sidled over to the rows of books stacked on shelves. A second later, he was beside me. This time I only jumped a little. Roth’s half grin was both smug and mischievous. Humming under his breath, he ran a finger over the spines of the various books in a languid manner that made me think of him touching me that way. I let out a quiet breath, grateful he wasn’t looking at me. When Roth stopped on one, he pulled a thin volume out. As he strolled past me, he winked.
“What do you have?” I asked, sitting in his desk chair.
Without looking at me, Roth brought the book to the bed, where he flopped down on his side. The thin novel dangled from two fingers. “This is a commercial copy of The Lesser Key of Solomon. Want to take a look-see?”
I rolled closer to the bed. “A commercial copy?”
He nodded. “Yep, for all the little Satanist wannabes out there. It�
�s incomplete, obviously. But it goes over the list of all the major players. I’ve looked over it a dozen times. Maybe I’m
White Hot Kiss Page 25
