Sex & The Immortal Bad Boy

by Stephanie Rowe

  “It’s exactly the time to go solo. Nothing like major stakes to make a woman find her inner strength.” Becca grinned. “I have total faith.” She glanced at her watch, then nodded at Theresa. “You’ll hang around, though?”

  “You bet. We’ll be great. Have fun and don’t worry about her.” Theresa eyed Paige just as she opened her mouth to say she wouldn’t be fine at all. “Paige, you’re not going to ruin Becca’s first chance for a Satan-free vacation since she was created, are you? Not after she saved you from being Satan’s pawn, and after you fried her arm?”

  Paige snapped her lips together. Theresa was right. She owed Becca, and if Becca thought she could handle this on her own, then, well, she’d have to believe her. She pulled her shoulders back and gave a firm nod. “I’ll be fine. Have fun.”

  Becca smiled. “See you in a few weeks.”

  Her confidence vanished. “Weeks? You said days—”

  But Becca was already gone, disappearing through the floor.

  Paige looked at Theresa. “What if she’s wrong? What if we can’t handle it?” Her breath started to come in short bursts. “Oh, hell. What’s wrong with me? What’s happening to me? Can’t . . . breathe.”

  “Put your head between your knees,” Theresa ordered. “Now.”

  Paige immediately bent over, trying to slow down her racing heart. “I can handle this. I’m a badass. This kind of thing doesn’t scare me . . . Oh, but it does. I don’t want to be the plague—”

  Theresa squatted next to her, so she was level with Paige’s face. “Don’t stress, sweetie. Becca’s not the only one who can control Satan. I mean, sure, she’s got him totally wrapped around her little toe, and with me, it’s a little more dicey, but it’s an adventure, so we’ll just see what happens, right? Between the two of us, we’ll manipulate him to exactly where we want him, and then we’ll get this sorted out, okay?”

  Paige stared at the dragon. “You really think that?”

  “Of course. I get whatever I want. So will you, by the time I’m finished mentoring you. Okay?”

  Paige took a deep breath, then stood upright again, relieved to discover she was only slightly dizzy. “Yeah, right. Sure. We’ve got it.”

  “Good.” Theresa rose to her feet and glanced around the room. “Would you look at all these hot chicks? I wonder what’s going on here?”

  “No idea.” Paige looked around the room and saw Satan sitting in a golden throne on a stage at the front of the room. He was wearing a dark velvet robe with gold embroidery that was parted to reveal glossy chest hair, highly polished black Italian loafers, glittering bikini briefs, and more bling than she’d ever seen any one person wear. Weird. He wasn’t usually a bling guy. He was a classy dresser, not the pimp of the Underworld. “He’s over there.”

  Theresa eyed him. “Well, he’s definitely got sex on the brain right now. Look at that erection, and the way he’s eyeing all these women. He’ll be in such a good mood he’ll give you whatever you want.” She smiled encouragingly at Paige. “You give him a try by yourself first. It’ll be a good experience for you.”

  He did look rather aroused, and Satan aroused was always a good thing for everyone around him. “Yeah, I can handle him. Okay.”

  “Fabulous. I’m going to find out where that girl gets her hair done. It’s fantastic, isn’t it? Zeke would love it. I’ll catch up in one minute.” Theresa wandered off, waving at a redhead wearing an R-rated cowgirl outfit.

  Paige stared after her, suddenly nervous about approaching her former boss by herself.

  No. She’d be fine. Now that she wasn’t linked to his life force, he didn’t have control over her. She could be who she was, and she didn’t have to obey him. Plus, even if she wasn’t on active Rivka duty, she was still born and bred to be a Rivka, and that meant she was a total tough chick, right? Totally.

  “Former Rivka apprentice? Is that you?”

  She flinched as Satan’s voice bellowed out over an impressive sound system. She looked at the stage and saw he was holding a microphone to his shiny lips. Was he wearing lip gloss?

  “You wish to audition to be my new lover? Most excellent. To the front of the line with you.” A female groan of disappointment traveled around the room, but the crowd parted, leaving nothing between Paige and Satan except for a red carpet that two gorgeous men in tuxedos were rolling across the floor straight toward her.

  “Do not look at my manservants as if they were delectable fantasies,” Satan ordered. “They will not be test driving you. I will test drive you myself.” He waggled his brows and stood up, letting his robe fall open to reveal a gold thong that barely covered his important parts, especially since they were so obviously enjoying the view of so many breasts.

  Becca had told Paige all about the love of Satan’s life, Iris Bennett, former Guardian of the Goblet of Eternal Youth. He’d yearned for her for centuries, finally landed her, and then been unable to keep her. And now he was having auditions for a new woman? She felt a wave of sympathy for the leader of hell. “You miss Iris, don’t you? Trying to make yourself forget about her?”

  “Do not mention her name,” Satan bellowed into the microphone. “I do not permit my brain to entertain thoughts of her satiny skin, her irreverent attitude, or her azure eyes that I could become lost in for many many moons! Cease or I shall have my overtly sexual manservant cut out your tongue! Do you comprehend or shall I go forward and prove my threats are not mere idle chitter chatter?”

  “Oh, he is so in love with Iris,” Theresa whispered from behind her. “Don’t you feel so bad for him? Poor guy. Heart is broken. Overcompensation can be a bitch.” She raised her voice. “Hey, big guy, how’s it hanging? You getting yourself a brand-new girlfriend or what?”

  Satan frowned, then lifted the microphone to his mouth. “Dragon. Why are you not naked in my presence? I thought my magnificence made your clothes fall off?”

  “You get naked in front of him?”

  Theresa didn’t look at all embarrassed. “It happened a few times. Don’t read anything into it. Now, go talk to him.”

  “Right.” Paige straightened her T-shirt, then marched up to the stage, intentionally walking next to the red carpet instead of on it.

  Theresa, however, sashayed straight along the center of the carpet, keeping a few feet behind Paige.

  Paige reached the stage. “Satan. Can I have a word? No mike?”

  “Say ‘please.’”

  She grimaced. “Please.”

  Satan beamed at her, and tossed the microphone over his head. One of his manservants dove across the stage to catch it before it hit the floor. “You wish to return to my services as Rivka, no? I accept. It has been much difficult since my favorite Rivka left me. I am in need of replacement. You shall suffice. You shall be my new favorite Rivka.”

  “No, actually, I have a question . . .”

  Satan arched a brow. “You want to become my lover as well? My new man friend said you are too young for me, but if you feel strongly—”

  “No. I . . . heard a rumor that you created a mutant Rivka . . . with the power to kill with their touch . . . is that true?”

  Satan stared at her, then grabbed her arm and sprinted toward the back of the hall, shouting at his manservants to hold everything. He exploded them both through the wall in a flurry of golden bubbles, then flung her onto the leather couch in his office. He threw himself into his desk chair, clasped his hands in front of him and sat up straight. “You were saying?”

  Paige pulled herself upright and glanced around. No Theresa. Crud.

  “Former Rivka apprentice. You were saying?” He leaned forward ever so slightly and held his breath, his eyes fixated on her face.

  “Ah . . .” She suddenly realized it had been a very bad mistake to come here. “I heard a rumor and I . . . ah . . .” She thought of how Becca used to manipulate Satan through compliments. “Someone said you couldn’t do it, and I told them you could, and so I thought I’d ask, so I could defend your honor. I
hate it when someone questions how great you are.”

  Satan’s eyes flickered, then he jumped up and exploded back through his wall in a mess of golden bubbles.

  He was back before Paige had time to think about what to do, dragging a young woman with him, one of the applicants to be his lover. Unlike the others, she was wearing a T-shirt that actually covered her breasts and her butt cheeks weren’t hanging out of her shorts. No doubt, she hadn’t even made the list of “possibles” wearing that much clothing.

  Paige sat up. “What—”

  Satan flung her at Paige and Paige instinctively caught her. The girl screamed, Paige leapt off the couch, stumbling over the cushions to get away from the girl, and then there was a snap and a pop and then ash floated down around them. The girl was gone.

  Four

  There was a delighted chortle from Satan. “Oh, my, my, my, my.”

  Paige’s calf screamed with pain and she clutched it, feeling an overwhelming sense of darkness seep past her defenses, creeping into her spirit and into her soul. Death. Killing. I want to kill. She dragged her gaze toward Satan, fastening on the soft skin at his throat. Her hand reached for him, her vision blurred, and her head began to ring . . .

  “Oh, no, no. You do not direct that look at me. Down, girl.” Satan squatted beside her and laid his hands on her head. “You do not become wraith while I am in room with you.”

  His touch was cool, and a cold relief began to trickle down Paige’s body, easing off the darkness trying to consume her. She felt the urge to kill retreat, and the pain subsided, and her mind began to clear. She blinked as Satan dropped his hands and sat back on his heels, beaming down at her. “You are a masterpiece, former Rivka apprentice.”

  Paige pulled herself upright and leaned back against the couch, too tired to climb back up on it.

  Satan was sitting at her feet, grinning like a little kid. “I am much impressed with myself,” he announced.

  “What’s happening to me?” Might as well lay it out there now. No more secrets.

  He hopped to his feet and nearly danced over to his wall. “My scientist infected you with inner wraith.” He laid his hand over a golden bust of himself, and a small door popped open. He reached inside and pulled out a bottle of Dom Pérignon and two crystal flutes. “We toast!”

  “Inner wraith?” Paige pressed her palms to her forehead. “What do you mean?”

  “Your touch is poison. You kill anything that has any good anywhere in its being.” Satan removed the gold foil from the champagne and began to work the cork free. “Each time you kill, it feeds the inner wraith. The wraith gets stronger, compels you to kill more, which makes it even stronger. And so on, until you eventually are consumed by wraith.” The cork flew off and smacked into the gold inlay ceiling. “You will be but a human shell. No emotion, no humanity, just death.” He beamed. “You will become a death, kill, murder.”

  Paige stared at him, watching him pour the champagne as dread filled her. “Are you serious?”

  “Oh, most definitely. I do not jest about issues of such importance.” He swept across the floor and handed her a glass. “For short time, you will kill all that comes within reach, including me, which is why you cannot become wraith in my presence, or even in hell. But after a while, you will recognize me as your lord and savior.” He sat next to her, crossed his legs, and tapped her glass in a toast. “And then fun begins! You will exist only to please me, and you will be deadly weapon.” He took a sip of his champagne. “Satan Jr. will be much admiring of his father.” He wagged his little finger at her, the diamond on it winking. “Even the leader of hell must continue to evolve to stay competitive. I evolve, you become poison wraith, and we kill many.”

  Paige felt sick. “How do I stop it?”

  Satan choked on his champagne. “Stop? There is no stop. There is only go.”

  “But what if we wanted to stop it? Like, what you did to my head. Can that stop it?”

  “That is rest only. There is no stop. It is irreversible.” He took another drink of champagne. “You are close to the change. I smell the sourness of your skin. Soon. Maybe tomorrow? Tonight? Two days from now? I do not know, but I cannot wait.”

  She smelled sour? Fantastic. “What if I do, like, the ultimate personal sacrifice? Would that purify my soul?”

  Satan snorted. “So cliché. You think I am that shallow? Please. I spit on ultimate sacrifice.”

  “There has to be some safety net. What if I get out of control or something?”

  “Then I kill you. Is easy. Next question?” He beamed at her. “Try to stump me. You cannot, but I laugh as you try.”

  Paige pressed the cool crystal against her forehead, trying to think. There had to be an out. Something. She had a sudden idea, recalling all the souls that Becca had harvested for Satan. Experts who did Satan’s work for him, who would be likely to create a back door for themselves, like all the great computer programmers were known to do. A name. She just needed a name. “Did you create me yourself?”

  “I take full credit. Yes.” He drained his glass and then nodded at hers. “A waste not to drink.”

  She handed him her glass and tried again. “But did you hire some peon to do the work for you, because you’re too busy to lower yourself to that level?”

  “Yes, yes, I do have peons do work for me. Expert scientist soul was quite handy. Still alive, though, so he was in mortal world. Not in hell. Unusual agreement, but worked well, did it not?” He tapped the glass against his teeth, the sound tinkling like charms.

  “What’s his name?”

  Satan narrowed his eyes. “Why you ask?”

  “So I can send him a thank-you note. I’m . . .” She choked on the words. “. . . I’m so excited about this great opportunity.”

  Satan studied her for a minute. “I think you lie. I think you go to kill him. I cannot permit this to occur.” He stood up. “You go now. I see you when you are black wraith.”

  Paige climbed to her feet. “I can’t go anywhere. I don’t have the fade capacity.” She folded her arms across her chest. “So, I guess I’ll just stay here until I turn wraith, and then I’ll destroy hell.”

  Satan winked at her, walked over to his desk, rooted around in his top drawer, and then tossed her a gold band. “Put that on your wrist.”

  She eyed it. “Why?”

  “It gives you power to come to and from hell.” He smiled. “You will need it when you come crawling back to me to be my loyal servant.”

  Paige stared at it, anger building in her, raging inside her like she’d never felt before. The scum dared to steal her life, rob her of the ability to love her friends, to experience the blessing of human touch, so she would work for him? Screw that.

  She flung the bracelet at Satan. “No. I’m not leaving. If you won’t save me, then I’ll take you down with me. Right now.” She opened her mind and began to call upon her inner wraith. It leapt in response, filling her with darkness and death and—

  “No!” Satan slammed his hands down on top of her head, shoving the darkness back into its capsule. “Fine. His name is Yolanth and he has lab in Montana. Test your luck. Try to find him. Amuse yourself far away from here until you change.”

  She opened her eyes, hope surging in her chest. “I’ll come back and turn wraith in hell if you’re lying to me.” She picked up the gold band. “And I can do it.”

  Satan scowled. “Fine. Her name is Beatrice McFleet and she has lab in Manhattan. But it will not help you.”

  “I’ll decide that.” She wrapped the gold band around her wrist. The instant she clasped it, it shrunk to fit.

  “You like? I modeled it off those rope bracelets.”

  She held up her wrist. “Bring Theresa in here and then let us leave. I might go wraith at any second, and you wouldn’t want that.”

  Satan grinned. “You will be most fun. Almost as manipulative as my former favorite Rivka.” He bowed deeply. “I welcome you to my staff, black wraith.”

  And
then he exploded in a mass of gold bubbles, and in his place was Theresa, who was looking a little strung out, her hair a mess, her hands morphed into dragon claws, and smoke leaking out of her nose. “What happened to you, Paige? I’ve been freaking out with worry! Don’t ever scare me like that again! Dammit, I want to hug you to make sure you’re okay! Can I? Did he fix it? Can I hug you?”

  “No.” Tears pricked at the back of Paige’s eyes at the crestfallen look on the dragon’s face. Dammit. I won’t let him steal my friends from me.

  “No worries, sweetie.” Theresa glanced around the room and her face brightened when she saw the champagne. “I have a few ideas. All we need to do is get you into heaven long enough to get you into their cleansing moat—”

  “Into heaven? I’m a Rivka. I don’t get to go to heaven. The portals would fry me immediately if I even got near one.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot about that safeguard. You’re right. Portals to heaven are out for you. Maybe there’s another way in . . .” She tapped her chin. “Need to do some research on that idea . . .”

  “Will you ask your husband to find Satan’s scientist for me? The one who turned me into a wraith?”

  “Of course. Zeke can find anyone.” Theresa gave her a hopeful look. “You think this scientist will be able to reverse it?”

  Paige bit her lip. “Since she’s on Satan’s payroll, I sincerely doubt she’d do anything to betray him, but I have to follow up every single lead on the chance I’ll find something that will work. The cleansing moat sounds like a good idea, but unless we find a way for me to get into heaven, that’s out. Satan won’t help. So, we work on both the scientist and other access routes to heaven. I don’t have time to pursue one and then the other. I could go wraith at any moment.”

  Theresa frowned. “That’s not much of a plan.”

  “You have a better one? Because I’m open to any suggestions.”

  “Actually, I don’t.” Theresa sighed. “I decided you’re in a bit of trouble and called Becca. Her phone’s off, so I could only leave a message. I sounded frantic enough on the message that if she checks them, I’m sure she’ll call.” She grimaced. “I don’t think she’s planning to check messages, though.”