by Anna, Vivi
She stripped off her clothes, and with a contented sigh she slipped down into the deep-jetted tub. The water was still deliciously hot and silky from the bath salts, it slicked her skin. Twisting a knob she kicked in the jets, then rested her head on the back of the tub and closed her eyes.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had indulged like this, maybe never. Growing up had been tough and meager as she’d moved around with her dad and brother, chasing monsters around the country. She’d never had a manicure or a pedicure. She knew how to dress like a lady and act like one, something she’d learned from magazines and TV, but she’d never ever felt like one. Until this very second.
She wondered how Ronan knew this had been what she’d needed and wanted. Sometimes she questioned whether he could read her mind. Maybe the demon blood in his veins gave him certain abilities. Reading her might very well be one. God, she hoped not. It could get embarrassing for her if he could.
Or it could’ve been the man inside him. An instinct that drove a man to want to pamper a woman, to shield her, to protect her, to love her....
Her eyes flashed open at that. Licking her lips, she realized how tight her throat was. She sighed, then laid her head back again. She had better keep her thoughts straight. On the plan. On the mission. And not on the man with the hard face and soft heart sitting on the sofa in the other room.
Chapter 9
For the next hour and a half, Ronan ate, finished sharpening his knives, reloaded his gun and paced the room trying not to think of Ivy naked and wet and soapy in the bathtub.
A half hour ago, she’d slipped out of the bathroom wrapped in one of the complimentary terry-cloth white robes, grabbed some food, ate it then took her bag and went back in.
Then he started thinking about her getting dressed after lathering her skin with moisturizers and body lotions. The thought had actually made him start to sweat.
So instead he busied himself getting dressed for the big event. They were going in chic casual, so as not to stick out like sore thumbs. But he had a feeling Ivy was going to stick out anyway. And not as a sore thumb, but as an enchantress. Even in a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, she was dangerously beautiful. He couldn’t imagine what it would do to him to see her in the little black number he knew she’d bought for tonight.
He took a sip of the scotch he’d poured earlier and paced the room some more waiting for her to emerge. Finally, the bathroom door opened.
And he nearly dropped his glass.
The silky black material, what little there was, clung to her generous curves as she walked into the room. Her pale skin glowed like moonlight in contrast with the dark dress. She was wearing a short blond wig, which showcased the long sweep of her elegant neck. There was a spot just below her ear that he had a sudden urge to trail his tongue up and down.
He swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and said, “Um, wow, Ivy, you look, um...”
His stammering made her smile, and pink stained her cheeks. She was blushing, just a little. “Thank you.”
“You look amazing,” he said, after finally collecting his senses.
Her gaze studied him, as well. “So do you, actually.”
Ronan ran a hand down his shirt. He’d settled on simple dark wool trousers and a button-up dress shirt in a shade of navy. “Thanks. Feels weird without my leather, though.”
She laughed. “I know what you mean.”
He ran his gaze over her from head to toe, taking every glorious inch of her in. Then he paused. “Ah, where are your blades?”
She lifted one brow. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, actually I would.”
“Well, you’re not getting a peep show, so just forget about it.” She picked up her clutch purse from the table. He knew inside she had holy water, blessed chalk, angelica, a silver cross that pulled out into a dagger and some premade devil’s-trap stickers. You just peeled off the back and stuck it onto a chair, or the floor, or anywhere you wanted the demon to be held. He’d heard about Ivy’s invention and it was pretty cool.
As satisfied as he was going to get, he offered his arm to her. “Shall we?”
With a little shake of her head and a twitch of her lips, she took his arm and they left the room in search of their target.
The View Lounge was busy when they stepped off the elevator and entered. Most of the orange and yellow chairs were occupied. There were a few people standing together in various groups, talking and laughing. A lot of eyes turned toward them as they approached the bar. Ronan figured it was all because of Ivy. Except there were a few pairs of female eyes sizing him up.
They went to the bar, thankfully found two vacant stools and ordered. Ivy ordered a raspberry martini and he had a scotch on the rocks. Once they had their respective drinks, they surveyed the bar for Sallos.
The plan was for Ivy to lure the demon away from the crowd, preferably near the elevators and stairwell exit. Ronan would slap a devil’s trap on him and they could carry him out, down the stairs to a remote place to question him and ultimately end him. But Ronan knew that even the best-laid plans could go to shit.
It didn’t take long to find him. The demon was predictable, at best. Ronan spotted a pair of older women sitting at a table near the immense window, and Sallos was holding court. Both women looked completely enthralled with him, hanging on to every word he spoke.
“Found him.”
Ivy leaned into him, as if to whisper something private. “Where?”
“Ten o’clock.”
With her drink to her mouth, she swirled in her seat and checked it out. “He seems pretty comfortable.”
“Yeah, both ladies look hooked. Do you think he’d take both?”
“I wouldn’t put it past the bastard. He’s in show-off mode now that he thinks he’s escaped us twice.”
“Maybe we should wait until he makes his move out of here. By the way those two are looking at him, and their body language, I would say that will be very soon.”
“When they go, you slap him with the trap and I’ll make sure the women are removed from the situation.”
“Now, be nice.”
She smiled and it was sexy and wicked and made his stomach clench. “I’m always nice.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, but he smiled in return.
For the next thirty minutes, Ronan and Ivy drank their drinks and watched Sallos as he seduced the two women. It wasn’t long before the three of them stood, giving each other those knowing looks. The looks that said they had made the decision to leave together and finish their evening in privacy.
Ronan and Ivy waited as the trio passed them to head toward the bank of elevators. They set their empty drink glasses on the bar, then slid off the bar stools. Ivy slipped him one of her devil’s-trap stickers, then started for the elevators.
Tucking the decal in the palm of his right hand, Ronan wrapped his other hand around Ivy’s waist. She didn’t protest when he pulled her closer. They needed to keep up the pretense as a happy couple just until they reached the elevators. Also, he liked having her close. Her scent, mixed with the vanilla she’d bathed in, wafted to his nose and he inhaled it deep.
As they neared the little elevator lobby, Ronan sensed something was wrong. He paused and pulled Ivy tighter to him.
She frowned at him. “What are you doing?”
“Something’s off.”
Before Ivy could respond, the two older women came flying out from the enclave, teeth bared, fingers twisted into claws. They shrieked like banshees as they attacked Ronan and Ivy.
Ronan blocked his face from nails tearing him apart. He pushed one woman away but she came back, just as fierce, eyes wild, foaming at the mouth. Ivy was having just as much trouble with the brunette attacking her.
“What the hell?” She g
rabbed the woman’s wrist. “Why are they attacking us?”
“They’re enchanted. Powerful demons can sway people to do their bidding without a spell or possession.” Ronan shoved the woman spitting and clawing at him into the wall.
“How come I’ve never heard of that?” Ivy had the brunette pushed against the wall with her arm twisted behind her back.
“It’s a rare power and it’s not common knowledge.”
By now, they had garnered the attention of the other patrons in the bar. And the big, burly bartender who was approaching Ronan with fury in his fists.
“What is going on here?”
“Where’s your security man?” Ronan asked.
The bartender shook his head, then ran over toward the entranceway. He stopped midstride. “He’s down.”
The woman attacked Ronan again. This time he grabbed her wrists and, binding her arms together, subdued her. “I think they are both very drunk,” he said to the bartender.
“Should I call the police?” he asked Ronan.
“Actually, if you have a small locked room, we could just toss them in there until they sober up.”
By the way the bartender frowned, Ronan guessed he didn’t much like the idea.
“Where’s Sallos?” Ivy asked, still trying to keep the brunette pressed against the wall.
Ronan looked around in a panic. “I don’t know. I don’t see him.”
“I’m right here, Ivy, my dear.”
Both Ronan and Ivy swung around. Sallos stood grinning by the picturesque floor-to-ceiling windows. He had another patron, a young woman, in his clutches. His hand was around her slender throat and she was dangling above the floor, her feet kicking from the lack of oxygen.
The other patrons moved away from him, eyes widened, hands to mouths, shocked by what they were witnessing. The bartender went to move toward Sallos.
Ronan grabbed his arm. “Don’t. He’ll kill her.”
The bartender stopped, but Ronan could see that it was difficult for him not to try and help. Ronan commended him for that, but his help would surely only kill the woman and most likely him, as well.
Keeping the brunette’s arm twisted behind her back, Ivy pulled her over to Ronan. “Here. Take her.”
Ronan tried to grab the squirming woman but she managed to get out of Ivy’s grasp. She flew at Ivy again, but this time Ivy’s patience was gone. She reared back and punched the brunette square in the jaw. It sent the woman to the floor, unconscious.
She then pushed the woman he had under wraps backwards and knocked her in the chin. She went down like a sack of potatoes, too. Problem solved.
“Nice,” Ronan said but he suspected Ivy wasn’t listening. Her attention was all on Sallos.
She took a few steps toward him. “Let these people go and we’ll have a nice long talk.”
The demon chuckled. “Oh, is that the part when you kill me?”
“I won’t kill you,” she mumbled under her breath.
One of Sallos’s eyebrows quirked up. “I’m sorry? I don’t think I heard you right.”
Ronan stepped in beside Ivy. A united front. He hoped it was enough to best this demon. He wasn’t so sure, though. Sallos was notorious for his viciousness and manipulations.
“You heard plenty.”
“Hmm.” Sallos tapped his lips with his finger. “I see a bargain in the near future.”
“Whatever,” she grunted. “Just let everyone go.”
Ronan leaned into her ear. “Are you sure about this? He’s a sneaky bastard.”
She shook her head. “No, but it’s all I got right now.”
“If I let everyone go free, Ivy Strom, will you refrain from killing me?”
Ronan could practically hear her teeth grinding. She sighed, and then said, “Yes.”
“How about you, Mr. Ames? Care to bargain again?”
Ivy glanced at Ronan, a question on her lips. He shook his head. “You only get one bargain, Sallos. That’s the rules.”
“Rules, shmules.” He smirked. “So be it.” Sallos released his hold on the young woman. She dropped to the floor. She didn’t look that good. Ronan could see the shallow rise and fall of her chest, but he wasn’t sure if that was enough to keep her alive.
He looked over his shoulder to the bartender. “You can help her now. Get her out with the rest of these people.”
The bartender nodded, then rushed to the young woman on the floor. He picked her up in his arms and hurried back to the elevators. “Come on! Everyone out!”
That started a stampede for the exits. It wouldn’t be long before more security showed up, as well as cops. After a loud, bustling five minutes, Ronan, Ivy and Sallos were alone in The View Lounge. They had to work quickly now.
The demon sat down in the one of the vacant orange chairs and crossed his legs, as if having a casual visit with friends. “So, what shall we talk about?”
Chapter 10
Ivy wanted nothing more than to breach the distance between her and the demon and fry his ass back to hell. But she had made a bargain that she wouldn’t kill him. She’d think of a way to get out of it later. In the meantime, there was nothing in there about not hurting him an awful lot.
Sallos gestured to the other two vacant chairs. “Sit. We can talk all night if you’d like.”
Ivy moved toward the empty seats but she didn’t sit. Ronan moved with her.
Sallos narrowed his eyes at Ronan. “It’s been a while, Ronan. You look good.”
“How do you know each other?” Ivy asked, curious and suspicious.
“Oh, we go way back, don’t we, boy? In fact, I was there at his birth, so to speak.”
Ronan stiffened, his hands clenched. “I’ll kill you, Sallos. Your bargain isn’t with me.”
“No one’s killing anyone until I get some answers,” she said, glaring at Ronan. But she could see the anger and the pain on his face. An urge to console him swept over her, but she tamped it down. At least until their business here was concluded. Obviously, there was a long, painful story there, and surprisingly, she wanted to know it.
Sallos waved his hand. “Ask.”
“Where is my brother, Quinn Strom?”
“Ah.” He smiled. “There it is. The driving force behind everything you do. The prodigal brother. The chosen one. The great, mighty Quinn Strom.”
“Where is he?”
“Why do you want to know? Why do you want to find him?”
“Because he’s my brother.”
“Yes, but if you find him, wouldn’t that mean the reign of Ivy Strom, feared demon hunter, would be over?” He ran a finger over his mouth as if in contemplation. “You’d be number two, once again.”
“I don’t care.” But deep down inside, Ivy did care just a little. She liked being the toughest, most feared hunter around. Quinn had been that guy before he disappeared. And Ivy had sort of inherited the title because of her last name.
She’d earned it, she reminded herself. Over the past three years she’d earned every drop of blood to be called the best. She might have learned her skills from Quinn and her father, but she’d honed them, expanded on them and even perfected them in Quinn’s absence.
“Now, I know why Ronan wants to find Quinn Strom, but you, Ivy, my dear, are a different matter altogether.”
Ivy glanced at Ronan. “What’s he talking about?”
“Nothing. He’s trying to manipulate you. He’s messing with you.”
Sallos waggled his finger. “Now, now, Ronan, don’t be lying to the girl. I can tell how much you really like her. Lying is not a good way to start a relationship.”
Silver blade in hand, Ronan rushed the demon. He was aiming for Sallos’s throat, but the demon was faster and he tossed Ronan across the room like a f
eather-filled pillow.
Ronan landed on top of the bar, glasses and bottles breaking under and over him until he was lying still in a pool of shattered glass.
“Idiot,” Sallos growled. “I’ll always be faster than you. You’d think you’d know that by now.”
Brushing at the glass, Ronan sat up. “And you should realize by now that I’m smarter.”
Sallos went to laugh but then looked down at himself. A devil’s trap was stuck to his chest and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn’t tear it off or even touch it, for that matter. He was now bound to the spot and had to, by creed, answer Ivy’s questions truthfully.
She grinned. “Looks like you’re screwed, Sallos.”
The demon glared at Ronan as he stumbled his way back to Ivy’s side. There were little cuts on his face and hands. But nothing too serious that would keep him out of action. She imagined it would take a lot to put Ronan down.
“Anything to keep your secrets, hey, boy?”
“Enough of your double-talk, demon,” Ivy spit out, “I want to know where my brother is.”
Standing, Sallos turned his angry red glare onto her. She could see the fires of hell in the round orbs. He wasn’t even bothering to hide his true nature any longer.
“Know that he wasn’t taken. He chose to disappear. He chose to leave you, Ivy. He chose to abandon his baby sister for his own design.”
She didn’t want his words to matter to her, but they needled her regardless. She’d always wondered how he left, and why. Her biggest question, her deepest hurt, was how he could’ve chosen to leave her completely alone to battle the monsters on her own.
“I don’t care. I just want to know where he is. I command you to tell me.”
The demon’s face began to twist and grimace. “He doesn’t want you to find him. Can’t you understand that? He doesn’t want to see you.”
“Tell me!” she yelled.
She knew he was fighting the compulsion. Most demons couldn’t fight it. But Sallos was more powerful than that. He was, or had been, a great duke in hell. He commanded legions of demons. So she should’ve known he would fight it to the end.
