by Debra Dunbar
Something moved in front of her, and the angel jumped as a huge rat scampered across the alley and under the dumpster.
Rats. Every hair on her body rose, and she couldn’t help a shudder of revulsion. It was terribly unevolved of her to have such a visceral negative reaction to a lower life form, a mere mammal, but Asta couldn’t help herself. It was ridiculous for an angel to be afraid of a rat—to be afraid of anything—but she was.
A scratching noise came from beneath the dumpster. Asta froze, her stomach turning. Just a rat, just a rat, just a rat. She was an angel, for Aaru’s sake!
Red eyes peered at her from the darkness. The scratching grew louder.
Ignore it. She was here to hunt a demon—a demon whose energy signature she heard like a siren song from underneath the dumpster. She just had to get by the rat.
Rats. As in plural. Red eyes blinked into life by the dozens. Asta’s breath locked in her throat, and she scrambled backwards on her knees as they crawled from under the dumpster. She just had to go through them, stand up and walk right through them, and she’d be within striking range of the demon. But that would involve standing up. Visions of rats biting her feet and ankles, hanging from her clothing, filled her mind. At least on her hands and knees, she could kick and grab them.
The eyes moved closer, dark shapes coalescing into distinct forms with pointy noses and twitching whiskers. She could hear their claws clicking on the pavement, the faint squeaking. Involuntarily, she found herself moving backwards, scooting on hands and knees away from their advance.
A rat toward the back stood on his hind legs, towering over the others by at least a foot. He was monstrous, and the glow in his red eyes was eerily familiar. This was the demon she’d spent all night following—the crazy margarita-drinking, tube-socks-in-his-pants demon.
Why don’t you kill them? Shoot them with your energy and explode them to bits? The demon’s voice filled her mind, a mocking laugh accompanying it from his rat-form.
He spoke to her? Beyond pleading for their lives or cursing her with their dying breath, demons never spoke to her.
Go on. Kill the rats.
“I’m not going to kill the rats.” Why was she replying? Could this evening get any more surreal? Here she was, faced with creatures from her worst nightmares, having a conversation with a demon she’d inexplicably decided not to kill.
Why not? Kill the rats and come get me. Just kill them.
She couldn’t. As horrible and disgusting as these creatures were, they were innocent animals. They were creations of this world, part of a song and story beyond her comprehension. To kill them just because she was scared would make her an abomination. It would make her just as base as a demon.
Not that she was going to explain all that to this... this monster. No, she needed to stop with the chitchat and get on with scaring the guy right back to Hel.
“It’s you I will kill. Your body will be dust on the ground, but your head I will save as a trophy.”
That speech sounded ridiculous, as if she’d lifted it from a comic-book villain. She’d have to do better than that if she really wanted to frighten him.
Awww, baby. I’d totally save your head as a trophy too. Kiss, kiss.
Asta was suddenly aware that she was on her hands and knees in front of the demon. It was mortifying. He’d mocked her, after leading her all over the downtown and hiding behind a bunch of rats. She’d relish slaying him, would love nothing more than to fly his head to the top of the tallest building in the city and display it on the antenna. If only he deserved it. If only he’d killed someone, then she wouldn’t think twice before ripping his head off. Making fun of her—deservedly so, she had to admit—wasn’t something that should carry a death sentence
And again, there was that nagging part of her that found him just too intriguing to kill. A vision of the demon sipping a margarita and laughing with a human waiter flashed like a film playback in her mind. No, she wouldn’t... couldn’t kill him, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I’m not sure you’re worth the effort. Shoplifting. Drinking alcohol. Petty vandalism. You’ve got no control over your energy expenditure. A blind newborn could have tracked you from across the planet. Your head would be a poor trophy, not worthy to grace my collection.”
There. That was better. Still not up to the textbook of scary angel, but better.
So says the angel flying around downtown with her energy falling about her like rain. A Low could have sensed you from across the planet. Obviously you weren’t worth any effort to run from.
Jerk. Nasty, horrible jerk. Why was she letting this guy live? Oh yeah, because he’d made her laugh. Well, she wasn’t laughing now, surrounded by rats with a demon insulting her.
Asta forced herself to move forward, within inches of the rats. There were more than a dozen. Where had they all come from? She flinched as they flanked her, but she forced herself to continue toward the demon.
Almost close enough to kiss me, sweetheart. Just a few more steps.
“The only thing your lips are going to kiss is the pavement, right after I separate your head from your body.” What a royal pain this demon was. She’d beat some sense into him, maybe haul him outside the city limits, then warn him about the repercussions he’d face if she ever caught him in her radar again.
He laughed, such an odd sound coming from a rat. No, it’s you I’ll be kissing. Your lips, then your neck as I work my way downward over every inch of your luscious golden-brown skin.
Okay, that was downright creepy, and more of what she expected from a demon than the silly pranks with condoms. “Ewww. I don’t think so, you nasty rat.”
Come on. Like you’ve never wondered what it would be like. Have you ever been kissed, angel? Have you watched the humans caress each other and wonder how it would feel? Sin a little. I can assume a very pleasing form. You can kill me afterward, and no one will need to know.
The idea should have turned her stomach, but Asta thought of those humans she’d seen in passionate embraces over the last century. That connection, that explosion of feeling—it seemed to move beyond crass sensation into something divine. Her traitorous mind substituted the human female for herself, arched backward, supported by another’s arms, every nerve ending alight, floating away in sinful sensation. Yes, she was tempted, but not by this creature. Or was she?
A century among the humans in this dangerous corporeal form had clearly been too long. A wild week sampling food and drink was one thing, but sexual stimulation was another. No, she had to draw the line somewhere. Just one more week, and then she would be free from such temptation, free from such thoughts.
Then she’d never get the chance. Never ever have the opportunity to kiss someone. Shaking her head to free herself from the thoughts and disturbing images, she scrambled to think of a suitable rebuke.
“You’ll be kissing my toe as I soccer kick your nose into the back of your head.” Soccer kick? Yeah, she’d been hanging around these humans far too long.
I might like that. I’m a demon, after all. Rough stuff really turns me on.
“Well, get ready to get turned on.”
Wait, that probably wasn’t the right thing to say. The rat-demon confirmed it by laughing. Great, now he probably thought she was even more of an idiot.
With a deep breath, Asta gritted her teeth and began moving through the throng of rats. They shrieked at her as she shoved them aside, biting her hands until she felt blood drip through her fingers. She could do this. They were just animals. She could prove to the odious demon that she wasn’t a silly fool by crawling through a hoard of rats and putting her fist into his smug face. Easy.
Not so easy. Rats tugged at her pants, tore sharp teeth into her arms and waist. Still, she pushed down the panic and moved forward. Just a few more feet. The demon’s grinning face and beady red eyes were right in front of her. Just a few more feet and she could lay her hands on the arrogant sot.
A rat grabbed her hair, tugging unti
l she felt strands tearing free from her scalp. Not my hair! There was minimal physical pain, and no damage to her spirit being, but the thought of a filthy rat chewing on her hair was more than the angel could take. Asta jumped to her feet, screaming and whirling as she grabbed the rats off her hair and clothing and flung them against the wall. Their bodies made a sickening thump as they hit, but she had no time to feel regret for either her irrational display or the death of innocent, blameless creatures.
My hair, my hair! She spun until she was free of them then leaned against the dumpster, breathing heavy. Red eyes surrounded her, and Asta glared at them, her composure shot. One move and she’d blast them all into oblivion, her moral code be damned.
The demon shed his rat form, rising to his feet and shooing the rats away from Asta. They fled obediently, darting into nooks and crannies in the building wall and along the fence line until the only two beings in the alleyway were Asta and the demon.
She should have blown him to bits, should have dove at him, wrestled him to the ground and ripped his head from his neck, but all she could do was try to catch her breath and keep from bursting into tears. Some angel she was, some powerful enforcer. A century of exemplary service wiped out in one evening.
“Get out of my city and stay out. If I catch you here again, I’ll kill you.” Her voice wavered, giving the ultimatum an edge of desperation.
The demon cocked his head to the side, a surprised look on his face. “Oh now, surely you’re not giving up so quickly. We’ve got all night, and I’d hoped you’d play a bit longer. No more rats. I promise.”
Play? She’d freaked out, dancing around like a junkie on crack. She’d probably killed several of those rats. Tonight had to have been the worst night of her two-and-a-half-million-year life, and she wasn’t about to compound the damage by playing his game. She was done. He’d won.
And he’s naked. That stupid, snarky voice inside her head teased her.
He was. Asta got an eyeful of what had been under that expensive suit. The gray eyes were shadowed, glinting with red lights. Full lips curved into a smile that was both mocking and bold. Her eyes roved downward over broad shoulders and muscular arms. Not the slim form that usually appeared to advantage in suits—this demon was ripped. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his toned stomach and narrow hips. She looked lower, down to... hmmm. He hadn’t needed those tube socks at all.
Oh no. Not going there. Not going there at all.
“Like what you see?”
Asta felt her face heat up. “Do you lack the basic skills to make clothing, or are you making some futile attempt to seduce me? Because, I assure you, your efforts are wasted.”
Well, not totally wasted. How warm was his skin? How smooth? If she tasted... nope. Time to end that line of thinking right there.
He shrugged, keeping his distance. “I lack the skill to make clothing. Although I make up for it in other areas. Want me to demonstrate?”
Yes. No. “Put your clothes back on.” She gestured to the neat pile.
“No way. I like the way you look at me when I’m naked.”
Argh, she was ready to punch him, even though he was right. She couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting downward to his. .. It wasn’t like seeing a human naked. He was a demon, and the presence of that spirit-being inside made the flesh all the more appealing.
“Besides,” he continued. “I get the feeling you’re going to smash my face in or rip one of my arms off. No sense in getting my clothes all bloody. You should probably get naked too, although I think those pants are beyond salvage. Pity. I like the way they hug your ass.”
The reminder of her ruined clothing irked her even more than his comment about her backside. This demon had to go before she did something drastic, like rip his head off or.... No, not going there at all, no matter how nice he was from the neck down. The neck up, too. Sheesh, what was wrong with her? Perhaps the coffee was a gateway sin, leading her recklessly down the slippery slope of damnation?
Or she just hadn’t been intimate in a very long time. Yeah, that was it. Desperation was making this demon appear a viable partner.
“You’ve got five seconds to get out of here before I lose my temper and kill you. This is your one pass. Get out of this city, because if I sense you here again, nothing will stop me from turning you into a pile of sand. Got it?”
Worst threat ever. She’d made it sound so halfhearted that she wouldn’t be surprised if he laughed at her. Instead, he took a few steps closer—close enough that she felt the heat from his skin along with the scrape of demon energy against her senses.
He leaned forward, his face almost touching hers as he whispered in her ear. “You’re not getting rid of me so easily, sweet cheeks. I’ve got immunity. See?” The demon revealed a household mark in his energy signature.
Asta jerked back and stared at him openmouthed. Then she dove at him, spinning him around as she slammed him against the wall. Before he could react, she pressed herself against him, her arm circling his neck in a choke hold.
Holy carp in a pond, he was as solid as a slab of concrete. His rear smashed against her upper thighs, making her lean forward at the waist to hold the rest of him immobile against the concrete block wall. Her breasts were crushed against the angles of his shoulder blades, her cheek brushing the softness of his black hair. She shifted slightly, adjusting her grip, and reveled at the feel of his flesh against her. Even through her clothes, she felt his heat, making her imagine she was naked too. How would it feel if their positions were reversed, and it were him pressing her against the side of the building, her hands pinned above her head as his mouth traced the line of her neck down to that sensitive spot where it joined her shoulder... ?
“Hot damn. If I’d known all it would take for you to fuck me was a little— gargh.”
His words cut like a knife through her ridiculous fantasy. “Shut up.” Asta tightened her grip around his throat. “I don’t believe you. No one has immunity. No one. You’re going to get out of my city and stay out, or I’m going to kill you.”
Well, no one used to have immunity. Frowning, Asta contemplated the slim chance he was telling the truth. Things had changed in the last few years. There was an Iblis—a demon on the Ruling Council of Angels who represented Hel. After millions of years of nothing but violence between their two races, it seemed there were now all sorts of complicated exceptions to the already complicated rules. Demons lied far more than they told the truth, but just in case this one was having a rare moment of honesty, she’d check his claim.
Unfortunately, checking his claim would involve even more intimacy than pressing herself against his naked body.
Sandwiching him harder against the wall, the angel dove her spirit-self into his body, exploring and reading who he was beneath the human form. It should been like frisking someone for weapons, searching for ID. It should have been simple, impersonal, except, in reality, this was more like a strip search—a very hands-on strip search. She’d never been this close to a demon’s spirit-being before. She’d never been this close to an angel’s either unless they were joining... . Oh my, not going to go there.
But she was. She just couldn’t help herself from taking liberties that were terribly inappropriate given the circumstances. The similarities between him and the other angels were surprising, but not as much as the differences. She could tell he was strong and loyal, sly and devious with a dark and bawdy sense of humor. He wouldn’t hesitate to sell out anyone for personal gain. She’d found what she was looking for, but couldn’t help exploring further, couldn’t help falling into him as she did. Edges of her spirit-self joined with his in a swirl of light. Suddenly realizing what she was doing, Asta yanked away, loosening her grip on the demon’s physical body as she retreated.
“Damn, girl. I usually get dinner and a movie first. I had no idea I was going to wind up getting to second base with an angel up against the side of a building in a back alley. And that autoerotic asphyxiation thing really did it for me
, too. You wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette handy, would you?”
Gah, he was horrible. “I wasn’t... I didn’t... . I was just checking to see who you were.”
“Very thoroughly, too. Feel free to check again any time you get the urge.” He turned to face her, still scant inches away, his back against the building. “I’m Dar. Second demon in the household of the Iblis, who is also my sister. You know, you could have just asked. You didn’t have to grope me to find that out, although I really enjoyed it. Want to do it again?”
“Yes. I mean, yes, I see who you are, not ‘yes I want to do it again’.” Asta took a step back. Once again, she was sounding like a total idiot. “You sneaky little rat, leading me around all night when you were off limits.”
“Yep. Fun, wasn’t it?”
Her temper sparked, mostly fueled by the embarrassment of feeling him up like a horny teenager. “I don’t care whose household you’re with, you’re going to die. Sooner or later you’ll slip up, and I’ll be there to dust you when you do. If you’ve got an ounce of sense in your tiny little brain, you’ll go back to Hel tonight.”
He grinned, and although it was the type of grin a tiger gives its prey, Asta’s shiver was not from fear. “See you in the morning, sweetheart.”
He dropped, snapping back into the rat form, and in a blink, he was gone.
Morning. Asta eyed the black of night and wondered whether she hoped his words were true or not. Just in case, she’d better grab his suit, still folded on the pallet. It was far too high quality an outfit to leave beside a dumpster. Scooping it up, she smelled sandalwood and pepper, dark chocolate with a hint of citrus. The fabric was soft and smooth, and she couldn’t help burying her face in it for a brief guilty moment. It seemed this demon was here to stay, which would make her final week here very interesting. Interesting and most likely very detrimental in regards to her eternal salvation.
