The Devil's Advocate

by Michaela Haze

  “Mike Kerning. MP.” I answered with a snort. I saw no reason to lie.

  “Why would the head of the Labour party phone you?” Samuel said with genuine curiosity and no malice.

  I shrugged but did not answer his question. “Do you want to step into my office?”

  Samuel nodded silently and mirrored my steps until we reached the frosted glass door of my corner office. The low summer sun left stripes of my mahogany desk. I quickly rushed past, as demurely as I was able without seeming suspicious, and deposited my contracts into a locked desk drawer.

  “What do you want?” I asked, breathlessly. My heart would have hammered a mile a minute if I had one. Fear at being caught had stabbed through my chest. I was spying on the man and I hadn’t even done a good enough job to hide the evidence of my demonology.

  It would have been suspicious if I pulled back into Humanity and cut myself off from hell so abruptly. Samuel glanced around the room, his brow furrowed as he searched for the power that caused the pressure in his ears to pop.

  I gnawed on my bottom lip and glanced out into the hallway. Luiz caught my eye and I silently transferred a message into his cerebral cortex. Distract him now.

  Luiz brushed into the office with all the confidence and stride of a runway model.

  “Mr. Rose, would you like a glass of water?”

  Samuel’s lip quirked in amusement, nodding, and he appeared placated with Luiz being the source of Hell magic on the air. For now.

  Luiz walked down the corridor and turned at the end. When he disappeared, I strategically clipped my connection to Hell. I rushed into my body, as if I was a puppet with my strings cut.

  I had to stop doing that soon. It was uncomfortable.

  “Last time we spoke, you accused me of doing something untoward to your BDSM playmate.” I picked a non-existent piece of lint from the shoulder of my blouse.

  Samuel smiled wistfully to himself and leant against the cream wall. He tucked one foot behind the other, his position illustrated just how long his legs were.

  “Can you blame me for being suspicious?” he licked his bottom lip.

  “She had a seizure.” I said defensively.

  “Perhaps.” His tone was disarming.

  He stared at me and the silence stretched into a full minute. I was unsure if it was a power play or if he was simply cataloguing my features. I was typically adept at reading people, but Samuel Rose put me through the ringer.

  I rubbed my hands over my eye sockets and sighed heavily. “What do you want, Samuel?”

  His jovial expression sobered and his gaze was so intense it could have ignited the room and I wouldn’t have noticed.

  “I want to take you out, and then afterwards I want to watch you come undone underneath me.” His tone was even, confident.

  Samuel stalked forward, his movements were that of a natural predator. I schooled my reaction. I would never break. My master had told me once that I would always bend. It made me valuable. It was the only reason I had been kept alive.

  I swaggered out from behind my desk, and put extra movement behind my hips. If I could keep Samuel thinking with his nether regions then staying around to ensure that the prophecy went unfulfilled would be a piece of cake.

  The incubus put his hand on my lower back, I shivered in response and wondered if it was due to his abilities or his inherent sexual presence.

  He was dominant in all sense of the word. But the trouble with alpha males was that they didn’t realise the real power of submission.

  I allowed myself to submit to Luc because it quietened the pain. Doubt. Fear.

  I would never truly submit to Samuel Rose.

  His touch burned through the thin silk of my blouse as we walked to the lift. Luiz caught my eye as we left and I nodded stiffly, once, to let him know that I was alright.

  The metallic doors shut with a click. Samuel’s touch burned and made me shiver at the same time.

  He moved too quickly and it was obvious that he was not human. He used a single finger to tilt my chin up so that my eyes met his. I jumped, startled, when I felt his calloused fingers on my thigh. I felt his touch through my skirt.

  “I cannot decipher you, Dahlia.” His words curled down my neck and lit up something inside of me that I had thought had died a long time.

  “What do you mean?” I whispered.

  He peppered the corner of my mouth with a tiny kiss. “I want to pull you apart and put you back together again.”

  I found myself smiling; my hands trailed up the hard planes of his chest. “Then do it.” I urged.

  Samuel roughly pushed my skirt up until it decorated my stomach. He stepped in between my knees until his tall body curled around mine and trapped against the elevator wall.

  Lifting his fist, he jammed the emergency stop button and I fell forward when the lift stuttered to a halt. My body folded inside his embrace. His lips were harsh. Hard. Demanding.

  When he entered my body, his teeth gritted and every action was designed to wring my pleasure from my body with a shrill cry.

  We did not hold hands like teenagers when the lift finally reached the ground floor. Our tryst had been quick but satisfying. My heels clacked against the marble foyer floor. Samuel walked by my side with his hands in his pockets and his cocky grin on display.

  When the static charged air of the street outside encompassed us, I knew that a storm was coming. The warm and balmy heat of the summer was about to break and bring with it thunder and lightning.

  I squinted to the sky and admired the pink sunset. Lost in thought.

  “I would like to see you again,” Samuel said, snapping me out of my reverie.

  “Are you still planning on 'scrubbing' my memories?” my words were harsher than I had intended them to be.

  Samuel’s emerald eyes surveyed my face, and I did not allow emotion to rise to the surface.

  “Do I need to?” he asked in a soft voice.

  As if you could. “No.”

  Samuel raised his hand and brushed my cheek with his knuckle. The gesture was uncharacteristically tender. I did not expect it. His eyes shone silver, but I shook my head. Certain that I was imagining things.

  I found myself shivering, but it had nothing to do with temperature. Something had sparked inside of my chest. The feeling of being wanted. I had not felt it so long. It was like a cool drink of water after two centuries in the desert sun.

  “Can I walk you home?” Samuel asked.

  I scanned the street and saw my town car on the corner. The dark shadow of my driver, Simon, was visible. I shrugged and gestured for Samuel to lead on.

  We walked in silence, but it was comfortable.

  I always used the quiet to intimidate my conversational opponent. It typically made people uncomfortable but Samuel appeared to be different.

  My home was only a fifteen minute walk from the Mayfair office so it was a far assumption to think that I would walk to work everyday.

  I disliked public transport and being around large bodies of human beings. Their incessant energy was a low buzz inside of my mind and their everyday white lies were a constant whisper in my ears.

  Having a driver was for my own sanity.

  “How do you know where I live?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  Samuel chuckled. “I have pulled your police records.”

  “Friends in Scotland Yard?” I quirked a brow.

  “Something like that.”

  “Find anything interesting.”

  “You buy a lot of shoes.” Samuel shrugged.

  “My personal shopper does.” I smiled.

  “Have you always had money?” he asked, curiosity in his tone.

  “You would know if you have all of my personal files.” I quipped, I found myself worrying the skin on my palm. Waiting for him to reveal what I feared.

  “Your phone is ringing.” He said. Gesturing to my Prada handbag. I jumped, startled. I had spent too much time cut off from Hell. Was I losing my edge?
>
  I rummaged around in my bag until I found my iPhone. One look at the screen had me groaning. It was Kerning. I ignored it.

  “An admirer?” Samuel said wryly as we turned into the dark alleyway. It was a shortcut that I had never used.

  I barked an unladylike laugh and put my phone back in my bag. I lifted my foot to take another step but found that I was unable to. It was as if I was trapped in Molasses.

  My eyes darted to Samuel and I saw that his body language mirrored mine. He gritted his teeth but was unable to break free of the magic that held us.

  I tasted the salt water of the Envy daemon's magic before I saw him. Kerning stepped into the alleyway. He glanced down once at the grubby tarmac as if it would ruin his expensive Italian shoes.

  “You should have answered that.” Kerning said ominously.

  My jaw was wired shut. I narrowed my eyes, seething. There was no possible way for the Leviathan to best me unless he had help. I inhaled sharply and bit back a cough. His ocean scent was marred with the burnt tinge of Witchling magic. Of course, my finger twitched when I felt myself release. My own presence had eaten away at whatever had held me back.

  Samuel was still frozen. I remained still so that he would not suspect my lineage.

  Witchling magic could only hold a Pureblood for so long.

  “I’ve been setting up circles all over this city but your boss won’t meet with me.” Kerning snarled.

  I prayed that he wouldn’t mention who my boss was to Samuel.

  “Maybe if I kill his assistant, he'll pay attention? Hm?” The Envy daemon barked a grating laugh.

  I flinched at the sound, but Samuel took my reaction as fear.

  A low rumbling snarl erupted from Samuel’s chest and I felt the Leviathan's magic recoil like a rubber band. Kerning opened his mouth to reveal rows and rows of needle like teeth. Black saliva stained and dropped from my lips when he smiled his deadly smirk. Leviathan were poisonous. The Envy daemons could glamour themselves but their true form was akin to the sea monsters that they originated from. Kerning’s eyes glowed yellow, and it was not a good sign. I knew from personal experience that their bites stung like the Dickens.

  Samuel moved with certainty and purpose. He was behind Mike in a blink. Samuel held the MP's detached head with blood drenched fingers the next.

  “No one touches what's mine.” Samuel stared into my eyes across the space of the alleyway as if daring me to run.

  I simply held his gaze. Overwhelmed. The incubus had protected me.

  I did not know whether to feel flattered or outraged.

  Samuel mistook my stillness for shock and raced to my side. He almost placed his hands on my cheeks and then quickly thought better of it. He could drain lifeforce through touch and he obviously did not want to weaken me further. He was also covered in the black tinged Leviathan blood, which I knew from experience smelt like roadkill.

  The thought made laughter bubble inside of my chest. When it escaped my lips, it was tinged with hysteria.

  I belonged to Luc. But why did Samuel seem to be working his way into my heart.

  Samuel Rose folded my body inside of his embrace. He had pulled me to him so fervently that I felt my heels stagger across thin air.

  He clasped my body tightly, until I was pressed against the hard planes of his chest. Thoughts swarmed inside of my mind.

  I had been created to love only one person, and yet Samuel had protected me. Even though he thought that I was a weak human, he had protected me.

  I regarded his eyes with caution, like shining orbs of greenery and I suppressed a shudder.

  What was happening to me?

  He walked me home and did not let me venture far. Samuel watched my every movement for a sign of going into shock. Obviously, I was all right. I had lived since the beginning of time; I had seen almost everything. A dense Leviathan was not going to send Dahlia Clark into a fear cycle.

  Heaven forbid if it ever did, it would be the day that I asked to be put down.

  Samuel sat at my kitchen island as I pottered about and poured us both a glass of wine.

  My only concern was that Leviathan often lived in swarms although they were solitary hunters.

  “Are you okay?” Samuel asked warily. I turned around, holding my large crystal glasses from Dartington.

  “Never better,” I chirped, swirling the crimson liquid at eye level. I placed it on the counter to breathe.

  “You were just attacked by a Daemon of the Fourth Circle,” Samuel said slowly as if I had a low IQ.

  I quirked a brow and took a slow sip of my wine. I eased myself into the barstool next to him and took great care to arrange my legs delicately. “Yes.” I said simply. I had no energy to make up stories that night.

  Samuel eyed me shrewdly. “I would be worried about your mental health if I was a more empathetic person.” He reached over and plucked his wine glass from the marble counter top. “You have two different people living inside of your head, Dahlia Clark.”

  I smiled coyly. “I’m flattered that you noticed.”

  “Borderline personality disorder?” he asked wryly.

  “Just strong professional boundaries.” I shrugged.

  “I can see that.” He allowed.

  I eyed the bay window of my townhouse. Rivers of water ran down the glass as the rain from the storm began to build.

  I had been right. The balmy weather was bound to break.

  I was lost in my own thoughts when I felt a delicate hand on mine. Samuel carefully caressed the inside of my palm with his thumb.

  “Who hurt you?” he pleaded. I turned to him and saw that his mask of nonchalance had a fissure.

  I took a slow pull of my wine and said nothing.

  “You can tell me,” Samuel asked, his tone was the closest that a man like him would ever get to begging.

  “A man with big shoes to fill,” I supplied in a dead tone.

  Samuel did not smile in response as I thought that he would.

  “My heart will always belong to another, Samuel Rose,” I whispered. “You fill a gap inside of me but only temporarily.”

  Samuel chuckled. “Keeping telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

  Anger flared inside of me, from the tips of my OPI nails to the writhing darkness inside of my mind. “You don’t know me,” I said in a steady tone.

  I had stood up without realising it. My fists shook as my power ached to be unleashed. The deception that I had woven around Samuel Rose was visible as the darkness inside of me begged to be let out.

  Thousands of silver threads held him, each one a lie that tied us together. Only a Pureblood from the First Circle could see them and know what they stood for.

  I blinked and the cresting wave of my magic receded.

  “What are you?” Samuel murmured, speaking to himself and not to me. He pursued my body slowly as if searching for the answer to be written on my skin.

  “I’m a human lie detector.” I whispered.

  “Tell me your secrets. Tell me what you need,” Samuel urged. His hand skimmed the underside of my breast and even though my blouse I felt the jolt of electricity to my core.

  “Will you make it good, Incubus?” I laced my tone with scorn.

  Samuel leant forward and pressed his lips to the hollow of my collarbone. “Tell me what you need to forget the one that left you.”

  I clenched my fists. I was holding onto the darkness inside of me by the side of my teeth. My vision began to bleed red at the edges.

  “Come with me,” Getting to my feet was a struggle. I took his hand and allowed the calming presence of his seduction magic to curl across the surface of my skin. He allowed me to pull him along as we walked to my bedroom. I kicked off my Gucci heels and climbed onto the pristine ivory sheets of my four-poster bed.

  Samuel pulled his form fitting t-shirt over his head, I savoured the V that led down to what I knew to be his impressive cock. I turned around and remained in position on all fours.
r />   I felt his presence behind me, but his footsteps had been silent. Samuel Rose teased the edges of my skirt hemline without hesitation. Every movement was a promise of something more. When he reached the curve of my ass, he retracted his hand and whispered in my ear.

  “What do you need, my Ice Queen?” he purred. His voice was honey sliding down my spine. I ignored the twinge in my stomach that came with the nickname that Luc had always called me coming from the lips of another man.

  “Pain,” I demanded, my voice was thick with arousal but tapered by a vanishing sense of control. “Take the darkness away, my incubus,” I closed my eyes and begged. Samuel must have found my cane, mounted proudly on the space above my headboard.

  The sterling silver antique walking cane had been a gift for Luc but he had never claimed it. He had never spoken to me since that day.

  “Please,” I hissed. Willing to beg. Anything to make me forget for even a second.

  I heard Samuel lift his arm, ready to strike. The fact I could not see him only added to the titillation.

  Luc had made me this way. In need of pain.

  The cane slammed down on the soft flesh of my thighs, where my buttocks began and pushed me forward. I gripped the headboard and spread my legs further. Silently urging for more.

  Samuel must have tasted my lust on the air; all hesitation was gone as he slammed the cane down, as quick as a whip. The silver sculpted hound's head on the end of the antique bit into my skin and drew blood. I hissed in pleasure.

  It was only fitting. The gift I had gotten for my master on the day that he had rejected me was being used for my pleasure at the hands of another man.

  The sordid undertones spurned me on as Samuel pelted me with the cane. Sparks lit up behind my eyes. The red receded, and I found my thoughts as clear as the Mediterranean Sea.

  I knew Samuel was holding back, but I let him. He panted with arousal, his large hands rubbed the beaten skin on my arse cheek.

  The softness amid the beating caused the tightness inside of me to explode in an orgasm that made me see stars. I felt the presence of his Incubus magic on my skin, and I sensed it as he wrung pleasure from my body like a sponge.

  I did not allow myself to feel guilty as I collapsed, lost in the aftershocks of my pleasure. Samuel curled up by my side, and we did not say a word as the storm outside settled over London. The brightness of the occasional bolt of lightning was the only light as we lay in silence. Hellions could not sleep. Full stop.