He couldn’t help wondering if Shiloh could be saved. He knew she’d been led to believe that she had to work with monsters like Napthulo. But she wasn’t corrupt like him, or evil. Damien had seen the good in her. If she could live with those demons for centuries and still retain her goodness and vitality, then she was an incredible woman indeed, a woman worth saving.
Of course it wasn’t his job to convert she-demons. He’d made quite a reputation killing them instead.
But Shiloh wasn’t a true demon. She had choices, even if she didn’t know that.
Yet another reason Napthulo had to be eliminated. Damien blew out a breath and focused on the task at hand. The Council had an agent observing Napthulo’s inner sanctum. Once the coast was clear, Damien and Shiloh would make their move.
If Shiloh ever showed up.
Where were the she-demons?
He lifted his head and did a double check of the massive room devoted to laziness. Damien had chosen the beanbag area, only because he’d been way too tempted by the row of velvet recliners in the back. Then you had the water bed pit and the pile of pillows. Massive televisions lined the walls, spewing sports and junk television.
Damien had avoided college football, classic movies and anything else that would have normally intrigued him. Instead he went for reality television, hoping he wouldn’t get drawn in. And now he found himself rooting for the fireeating wife of a traveling circus lion tamer to give the daughter of the uber-strict pageant mom a makeover.
This place really was dangerous—with or without demons.
He ran a hand over his shirt and felt his hidden switch star holster. Five shots.
It should be plenty. A well-aimed switch star could slice through a demon and whirl back to Damien in under a second. If The Council’s spy did his job, Damien wouldn’t even encounter any spawn of Satan, not until he started sucking them back into hell.
He’d enter Napthulo’s chambers using Shiloh’s code. Once he located the portal, he’d reverse the energy and vacuum Napthulo, the she-demons and every single demonic creature back into the second level of hell. Then he’d seal them there for all eternity.
Except for Shiloh. Damien felt a twinge of guilt. He didn’t think she’d go down, not if it hadn’t happened the last time. And besides, he couldn’t see her as damned.
Not really.
Or was he going crazy?
Damien pounded at the beanbag chair, trying to get comfortable.
What was taking Shiloh so long? He’d called her almost an hour ago.
Why was he so impatient? It wasn’t as if he needed to see her. He certainly didn’t miss her. But he would like to have her around. She wasn’t bad company.
The hairs on his arms stood on end as the energy in the room surged. His skin tingled and he tensed, his body on high alert. A door creaked open behind the chain of recliners and Damien recoiled as he beheld a succubus in her true form.
He’d never seen one like that before. The she-demons he’d killed had already been feeding. That was how he’d spotted them.
But he knew from stories and from the overwhelming stench of sulfur exactly what he was seeing. She looked pale and plastic-like, as though she was a department store mannequin. Gauzy hair wisped about her face and her entire body seemed to glow around the edges. Her features were as frighteningly regular as a plastic doll’s. There were two more behind her.
Depravity hung heavy in the air, along with unmistakable, infectious evil.
He almost cringed as two more glided into Sloth. The true mortals in the room didn’t seem to notice the way they seemed to float. These demons had almost no natural movement at all.
Shiloh entered last, petite yet resolute in a pale peach gown. She’d pulled on a pair of white evening gloves, most likely to hide the wedding ring on her finger. One glove drooped past her elbow as she hesitated in the doorway.
She didn’t belong here any more than Damien did. She closed the door, purposely avoiding his gaze.
This might be the life she’d been forced to endure, but this wasn’t what she was created to be. Damien could see it. Why couldn’t she?
Damien caught her eye. She was so glad to see him that his mouth twitched into an encouraging smile. He couldn’t help it.
She quickly hid her emotion and adopted a mask of seductive serenity. Shiloh held his gaze as she strolled toward him, knowing exactly what the sway of her hips did to him.
“Good to see you again,” she said, sinking down next to him. She smelled like warm vanilla sugar.
Minx. “You made an impression last time.”
Her eyes danced as she tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Would you like me to massage your temples?”
He cleared his throat. “That’s okay. I think we can hold off on the touching.”
“No,” she said, sneaking a glance around the room. “I’m here to touch you. It’s my job,” she said under her breath. “So unless you want me to pick where I touch you . . .”
“Temples would be fine,” Damien said quickly.
“I thought so.” Delicate fingers touched him on either side of his head. “Although you have no idea what you’re missing.”
She was wrong. Damien had way too good an idea of what this woman could do to him. He wanted nothing more than to slip that pale silk gown from her shoulders and kiss those magnificent breasts. He’d tempt her. Tease her. Give to her. He wondered if she’d ever had the pleasure of being seduced. He doubted it.
She didn’t have to live like this.
Her fingers slid through his hair and a small groan escaped him.
“You’re such a puppy dog,” she said, pleased.
“Woof.”
She giggled at that.
He found he liked making her smile. “See? You don’t need a hellhound,” he said, glancing up at her. “You have me.”
“Rufus gives me less trouble,” she said, grinning.
“I can’t argue there,” he said, as she swatted at him.
He dug an elbow into the beanbag chair and sat forward. “Listen,” he said, taking both of her hands in his. “I know this is rough on you, but I will take care of you.” He squeezed her hands. “Rufus too.”
He could see his promise pleased her a great deal. “Fawzi, too,” she said.
“Anybody else?” he quipped.
She made a show of tapping a finger against her cheek. “Maybe I’ll draw up a list.”
He took her finger and kissed it. “You’re going to be the end of me.”
Funny how this felt like it was only the beginning.
Damien’s mirth was cut short as he watched a succubus glide behind them. The creature stopped next to a short, stocky man two beanbag chairs down. Anger welled up in Damien as the succubus touched her client on the shoulder. The man groaned, arching like a cat as she fed off the briefest contact.
He itched to bury a switch star in her chest.
Shiloh planted her hands on his shoulders as they watched.
He’d dedicated his entire life to annihilating that kind of evil.
Shiloh sensed it too. “Damien—” she warned.
Remember why you’re here.
He’d come to exterminate the entire roach’s den, not pick a fight in Sloth. As great as it would feel to blow these she-demons straight to hell, one wrong move in this crowd and he’d have some dead humans on his conscience as well.
Still, watching them made his entire body burn with fury.
“It’s wrong,” he hissed.
“I know,” she murmured.
As if in slow motion, he saw the succubus grip the other man’s head. Her hand tightened as yellowed talons hissed and curled from an appendage that was more claw than hand. They weaved through the man’s hair. Tendons and muscles worked under the creature’s thinning skin.
She was a devil who feasted on men. A cunningly masked locust.
Shiloh’s hands had moved to Damien’s upper arms. She held him back against the chair as every
nerve in his body vibrated with the urge to attack.
The air around the full-blooded she-demon shimmered with energy. Her pale body bloomed with life. Her shapeless gown wound into a red teddy, and her body morphed into a Victoria’s Secret dream. Thick black hair streamed down her back. Her cheeks were high, her lips full and seductive.
The man gaped at her, as if she were his deepest fantasy brought to life. Damien had no doubt she was.
The she-demon had hijacked the man’s mind, rifled through his fantasies. And now she would feed on him.
Evil, pure evil. Damien triple-checked his switch stars, itching to hurl one through her skull.
Damien watched her siphon her victim’s energy as she began massaging his feet. The man laid back and gave willingly.
Damien’s fingers curled, his anger mounting.
“Not yet,” Shiloh whispered in his ear.
The tickle of her breath aroused him and it pissed him off all over again.
Who was she to take up with these creatures? She should have stood up to them, or at least not taken part. But she was just as guilty as the rest of them. Using people. Feeding off people. These men had their wills and their very life forces weakened. Some turned to alcohol or drugs or sex after being with a succubus. They became addicts in a vain attempt to fill the hole that these creatures had dug inside them.
Some never made it out alive. They just disappeared. Lives were destroyed. Families were ruined. And for what? To enable men to pursue some sick fantasy—the seven deadly sins. There was a reason they’d been forbidden in the first place.
Sloth.
Greed.
Lust.
They weakened humans, made them susceptible to demons like Napthulo.
He couldn’t wait to sink a switch star into the biggest locust of them all.
Damien’s phone buzzed. It was a text from The Council.
Clear.
A dull satisfaction thudded in his chest. He refused to look at Shiloh as he tucked his phone back in his pocket. This was it. They had a straight shot at Napthulo’s inner sanctum.
“Come on, demon,” he said, shoving himself out of the beanbag. “I feel like taking a walk.”
Chapter Six
“We can’t leave,” Shiloh protested as Damien walked straight for the door. “Not like this.” He wasn’t even ambling. He was charging through the Sloth room. She gripped his arm and almost fell backward in relief when he let her stop him.
“This way.” She scanned the room, trying her best to act casual as she urged him past the pillows and to a curtained area behind the recliners. Luckily her co-workers were intent on their conquests. “Trust me.”
An emotion that she couldn’t quite place crossed his features. Indecision mixed with . . . what? Approval?
He took her hand and let her lead him to one of the hidden doors at the back of the room. She felt a burst of pleasure like a ray of sunshine burning bright. The powerful demon slayer was allowing her to lead him. For all of her doubts and worries about what would happen when he tried to take down Napthulo, his small gesture made her wonder if everything might just turn out right.
And even as she turned the knob, ready to sneak off with a client again, she couldn’t help smiling.
He trusted her.
When had anyone else in her life given her this kind of a gift? She’d been desired, ordered about, bargained for and—in some centuries—feared. Trust was something new.
“Quiet now.” Luckily, she was the first one to push through the door because a vicious hellhound waited on the other side. “Rufus,” she whispered. The snarling beast turned into an eager puppy dog when he saw her.
“Ah, so this is the mutt,” he said, closing the door behind them.
She buried her fingers in Rufus’s thick black fur and nuzzled him as he tried his darndest to lick her face, her arms, anywhere he could reach. He was the original cuddle beast. “Pet him.”
“No thanks. I like having all my fingers.”
She rolled her eyes at the big, brave demon slayer. “Come on, Rufus.” The hellhound fell into eager step behind them as they made their way down the stark back hallway toward the service elevator.
They were out of range of the cameras, for now at least. That’s why Shiloh had chosen to hide Rufus back here.
She felt a wave of excitement unlike any she’d felt for centuries.
“What are you smiling about?” Damien asked, glancing back at the hallway behind them.
“This,” she said, enjoying the bemused look he gave her.
But truly, how could she begin to explain?
Yes, he was teaming with her to eliminate her boss. She couldn’t forget that. But it was fun to have a partner, someone else to count on.
She’d been used for centuries. It was her job. But the way Damien treated her, the way he saw her, she was more than an object to him. She felt the difference down to her toes. And it was wonderful.
He moved to punch the button to the service elevator. “No,” she said, and drew his hand back. Again, he let her. She gave his hand a small squeeze. “It’s warded against outsiders,” she explained.
Shiloh punched the button to the penthouse suite.
He checked the hallway behind them. “So far, so good.”
She nudged against him. “That’s because I’m good.”
Shiloh had let it slip in the She-Demons dressing room that she was going to try to lure her client back behind the recliners for some Sloth room sex. The other succubi had laughed at her desperation and her inability to get a regular rotation in Lust.
Damien stood beside her, absently running a hand along her back as they waited. He didn’t even want sex. He didn’t want anything from her right then. Amazing.
She was scared to move, afraid to mess things up. The elevator chimed as the car clunked into place.
They both tensed as the bronze doors opened. It was empty inside.
“There will be cameras,” she said, as he led her into the elevator. It was done in bronze Art Deco, with large lotus flowers and birds. Antique crystal sconces graced one wall and a gleaming chandelier hung overhead. Rufus curled around her legs, pawing the plush red carpeting as Shiloh pushed the code for the penthouse.
Damien laughed out loud. “6-6-6?”
She slid her arms around his shoulders and he stopped laughing. “Napthulo’s lucky number. Now kiss me. We’re on camera.”
He hesitated. She could tell he wanted to.
She burned for a taste of him. He was an incredible looking man. Still, she waited. She wasn’t going to chase him anymore. This had to be his choice.
Anticipation snaked through her as he leaned forward, nuzzling her, his hot breath falling against the back of her ear. He stayed that way for a moment, drinking her in.
She almost broke. She wanted so badly to run her hands up over his muscular back and shoulders, to tempt him with a kiss that he’d never be able to refuse, to let him take her right here against the elevator wall.
She forced herself to hold still.
Wait for it.
Her body thrummed with anticipation as he took her by the chin and lowered his lips to hers. Slowly, almost reverently, he tasted her.
Shiloh moaned. This wasn’t the kiss of a man who was pretending. He desired her, he needed her. He was willing to be vulnerable with her. It nearly did her in.
He caught the nape of her neck, entwining his fingers in her hair. His fingers tugged as he deepened the kiss.
She sank into him, reveling in the taste of him, the feel of him, the pleasure of connecting with him. His other hand caressed her side, just below her breasts, and she groaned out loud.
He gave her one sizzling nip. Then another. “Here’s the plan,” he whispered. “Are you listening?”
“Yes,” she gasped as he trailed kisses down her neck. She was going to end up a puddle on the floor before this planning session was over.
He was hard as well. She could feel it. Her peach silk dres
s rubbed between them. She hadn’t bothered with underwear.
“We’ll enter using your code,” he said, his breath harsh against her ear. “You stand watch.”
“Stay close to me,” she said on an exhale. “He won’t spot you as easily with my energy as your shield.”
Damien drew back, nipping at her lips. “He can’t spot me.”
Shiloh swallowed, running her fingers along Damien’s jaw. “He will be able to sense you in his inner chamber.”
“My sources say . . .”
She shook her head. “They’re wrong.” Trust me.
It was a test, one she sincerely hoped he passed.
He stopped, his cheek warm against hers. “Okay. We go in together.”
His response nearly undid her.
The elevator clinked to a stop and he began to draw away from her. “Once I locate the portal, I’ll reverse the energy and vacuum Napthulo and the rest of his minions to hell.”
“Give me five minutes to get Fawzi and Rufus out.”
“Be careful,” he said.
She nodded. “You too.”
The doors slid open.
A very angry Fawzi hovered on the other side. “Shiloh.” He drew her name out like an angry father, shaking with indignation from his bald head to the wisp of smoke where his legs would have been.
Damien drew a switch star.
“No, wait,” Shiloh protested. “This is my friend, Fawzi.”
Damien blanched. “I’m saving him?”
“He’s actually quite friendly,” Shiloh said, inserting herself between Damien and the ifrit. “Sometimes.”
Rufus started barking like a wild dog. Shiloh winced. They didn’t need this kind of attention.
“I can explain,” she said to Fawzi, glancing down the hallway on either side of Napthulo’s massive front door. It was bronze, engraved with the demon’s thirty-six legions of hell and framed with the skulls of his enemies. They gaped in bony, hollow-eyed terror, which was a pretty good idea when you were dealing with Napthulo.
“What have you done?” Fawzi thundered. “You banish me from the Sloth Room. You make me hide in the master’s private hallway and then you show up here with a client?”
So I Married A Demon Slayer Page 13
