Demons Prefer Blondes

by Sidney Ayers

  Serah’s concerned voice faintly echoed in her mind. “Lucy, are you okay? You’re acting strange.” She reached out to grab her hand.

  “I am fine,” Lucy gritted out, digging her nails into Serah’s palm. “I know what I’m doing.” The bad thing was she actually did, but she had no idea how she knew.

  “Ouch, that hurts,” Serah yelped and pulled her hand from her superhuman grip. “We should forget this, Lucy. Something isn’t right.”

  Lucy turned to face her friend and narrowed her eyes, her glare challenging. With a wide, calculated grin, she reached up to brush a stray hair from Serah’s brow. “No, Serah. Everything is just right.”

  With that, she slammed her palm into the handprint and closed her eyes.

  Chapter 4

  Rafael pushed into the mortal realm, pulling himself from the shadows. He dusted off his black leather trousers and cursed Dominic for dressing him like a bloody biker. Taking in the scene before him, his stomach lurched. The moon hung low in the sky, full and taunting, as if it knew the direness of the situation and welcomed it.

  Blasted moon.

  Pulling the antique watch from the inner pocket of his black leather pea coat, he flipped it open. He needed to act, and fast. He took long, purposeful strides toward Lucia’s shop. Peering into the window, he groaned. She wasn’t alone.

  With a low growl, he clenched his fists. He was no longer welcome in her shop, and she had yet to call for him. He needed in—now. Before it was too late. He raised his fist to rap on the front door.

  “Rafe,” came the haunting voice, floating in the air. “Save me… please.”

  Coby. His only weakness. His only reason for living the life of the damned. He gulped down the lump in his throat. Curse the angels for giving them each a weakness. It was inevitable that his twin sister would be his. Clenching his fists, he turned toward the sound of her heavenly voice. Yes, she may have been a demon, but her voice belied her species.

  “Over here, Rafe,” her voice drifted in the air, luring him across the street. “I need you. Please! Before Belial returns.”

  The thought of his sister at Belial’s mercy—even though the fiend more than likely didn’t possess any—spurred him onward. He jogged across the street, following the sound of his sister’s voice.

  “Coby?” he called, keeping steady with each movement. “Where are you?”

  Her laughter filled the air.

  Laughter? She was being held by Belial and she was laughing? The hair at the back of his neck pricked. He clenched his teeth and dug his fingers into his palms. Something wasn’t right.

  “Behind you, brother.”

  Spinning on his heels, he did what they called a complete one-eighty in this time. Her silver hair whipped around her head as she floated above the ground, her silver gossamer gown fluttering at her feet. A dress? Coby never wore dresses, even though she looked stunning in them. Her eyes, usually silver sparks with life, reminded him of dull pewter.

  “Took you long enough, brother.” Her voice, no longer wispy, grated in his ears. Curse his hide, he’d been duped. Before he could reply, Coby lunged at him, her features molding into something more primal.

  Lamia.

  Her legs wrapped around each other, green scales replacing her porcelain skin. Her silvery waves of hair twisted into a torrent of blood red corkscrews. She smiled, then bared her serpent teeth, an eerie hiss escaping her lips. Allowing her long barbed tongue to loose itself from its cavern, she traced it along his neck.

  “Always the fool for your sister, Rafael. It will be your undoing.” She lashed her tongue out, the forks catching his cheek. “Tasty as ever.”

  Smashing his fist into his palm, Rafael sneered. “And here I thought you’d never submit yourself to Belial’s will. What a disappointment.”

  Lamia sucked in her tongue and threw her head back in laughter. Her obsidian eyes, rimmed with red, sparked. “When I heard the mission involved you, I couldn’t refuse.” Her snakelike body slithered back and forth, spiraling along his leg.

  She craned her head toward Luscious Locks and a devious smile curved her lips. “One of my sisters, it appears, with a silly mortal. Belial is right. She’s strong. I’ll enjoy vanquishing her and devouring her friend.”

  Not on his watch. Yes, she may have been assigned to him, but something else drew him to her. Something he didn’t understand.

  “Moved on from children, I see?” His stomach roiled as he remembered the last time he and Lamia clashed. Recalling her penchant for innocent blood, he gritted his teeth. He’d caught her on a small island just off the Virginia coastline. By the time he and Nic had arrived, it was too late. The children were dead and the parents, torn up with grief, had taken their own lives. His first assignment as a Paladin and he’d failed. Roanoke remained in the history books a mystery, but Rafael knew the truth. And sometimes fiction was better than the truth. Humans weren’t ready for it. Which is why he needed to get inside that shop.

  Reaching inside his pea coat, he extracted the silver dagger. It wasn’t enough to vanquish the bitch, but at least he could slow her down.

  “When times are dire, I do not discriminate. Adult blood, although diluted, can be very satisfying.”

  She tightened her hold around his body, her dark eyes flickering. “What’s happened to you, Rafael? I remember a time when we got along so well.” Her tail slithered up his leg and between his thighs.

  The silver blade glinted in the streetlight as he arced it down toward her scaly green tail.

  Her face curved into a frown. “You wouldn’t dare hurt a lady, would you?”

  “No, I would never hurt a lady.” His grip on the dagger remained firm as he sliced her tail clean through. “But you, Lamia, are no lady.”

  Lamia screeched in anger, her severed tail vanishing into a cloud of dust. Reaching down to grab what remained of her severed appendage, her eyes flashed. Dark crimson blood, almost black, dripped from her. “Bastard,” she seethed. Craning her neck toward the shop, she threw back her head and cackled. “Look at that, Paladin.”

  Rafael turned to the shop, his breath catching. “Fuck,” he grumbled, opting for a more modern curse. There was no mistaking the glow that emanated from inside. Diamond sparks spewed in the air as Lucia Gregory stood over the chest, her hand firmly planted on the lid. An aura of bright light surrounded her as she absorbed the energy from the chest. She may have been a latent succubus earlier, but she wasn’t now. He could feel it.

  Lamia lashed out with her regenerated tail, wrapping it around his wrist. “Looks as if you’re too late… Again.”

  Rafael spun around, sending Lamia flying. Thank the demons her newly grown tail hadn’t fully absorbed her power. “Better late than never you bloodsucking bitch.” With that, he sent the dagger flying. It connected with her chest, sending her into a giant puff of dust.

  Lucia and her friend would be safe—for now.

  ***

  Heat shot into her palm, up her arm and into her chest. She threw her head back as wave after wave of energy, growing stronger by the second, coursed through her body. The intense heat radiated through her entire being, edging her on.

  “What the hell?” Serah’s voice, distant yet close, came out like a squeak. She reached out to shake Lucy, her hands clasping her friend’s shoulders. Crackles filled the air and she went flying against the wall. “Oh my God,” she wailed as she crashed against the shampoo bowls.

  Lucy opened her eyes and turned her gaze to the chest, her hand glowing against it. Alertness raced through her body. Wrenching her hand free of the chest, she spun around. Panting unevenly, Serah clutched the foot of the shampoo bowl chair.

  What have I done?

  With a loud whoosh, geysers of water erupted around them. Spray hoses flung themselves around as jets of cold water gushed through the air. Mirrors one by one, cracked, sending bursts of shards flying across the salon. Lucy stood tall and confident, as if she’d taken a huge dose of liquid adrenaline. Oblivious
to the glass slicing at her face, she took smooth confident strides toward her friend.

  “Serah?” she asked, hovering over her.

  Serah glanced up from where she crouched and brushed needles of glass from her face and hair. “Oh my God!” she screeched, scurrying away. Cowering in her corner, she held up her fingers in the sign of the cross. “You’re a demon!”

  A what? “Just because some silly box electrocuted me and blew the crap out of my shop doesn’t mean I’m a demon.”

  Thanks, Serah. My shop’s just been destroyed and you’re accusing me of being one of Satan’s minions?

  Lucy sucked in a deep breath and ran trembling fingers through her hair, dislodging a few stray shards of glass. “I’m not a demon.”

  Serah reached out and pointed. With a shaky breath, she said, “Look.”

  “Fine,” she replied with an exasperated huff. Jerking herself around, Lucy took in the scene. The box sat in the middle of the room, open, with glowing amber light emanating from inside. Showers of vibrant sparks shot up in a small yet beautiful fireworks display. Great! Now the place would catch fire.

  Her insurance company wouldn’t believe this. Heck, she still didn’t believe it.

  “Close the chest!” she heard echoed in the air. Her breath caught and her pulse raced. Heat crackled inside her in sizzling waves. On its own accord, her tongue traced along her lips.

  Rafe! Mmm…

  Spinning around the room, she scanned every recess. More fountains of water erupted as more and more amber energy escaped the chest. Her gaze trained on the front door. There stood Rafe, taking up most of the entrance, his dark hair whipping around his face. His eyes flashed like two giant diamonds and glinted in the midst of the eerie light and sparks.

  “Close it. Now,” he urged. “Before more escape.” The intensity in his glare showed he was serious.

  As if a fire had been lit beneath her ass, Lucy sprang into action. Like she’d just stepped into a kung fu movie, she leapt over a dryer chair and tumbled into a somersault. Whoa! Where’d that come from? With as much strength as she could muster, Lucy pushed the lid closed.

  “Say this: ‘By the power of the Paladins, I command thee closed.’”

  “By the power of the Paladins, I command thee closed,” she repeated. All of a sudden, with a forceful whoosh, what remained of the amber glow shot back into the chest and the lid slammed shut.

  Rafe stood tall, his hands on his waist, the muscles bulging in his biceps. “Do you know what you just did?” His jaw twitched as his gaze bore into her. That intensity made her melt. And she absolutely loved it.

  It scared the shit out of her. Where did all these hormones come from? She’d gone five years without sex, with only a slight urge every so often. The minute this man walked into her life, she became a walking orgasm.

  She raised her chin as defiantly as possible. What was it about this man that drove her bonkers? “No, but I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.” She looked back at Serah, who struggled to right herself.

  “I told you to call if you needed me.” He crossed his arms in front of the rocks that were his pecs. “Why didn’t you?”

  Raking her fingers through her hair, Lucy chuckled. “Sorry, but you didn’t leave a number. How do you expect me to call?”

  Rafe growled, a deep sound that left her senses reeling. What kind of cologne was he wearing? “You know what I meant, Lucia.”

  “Well, Mr. Deleon, I’m sorry, but I had other things on my mind.” Lucy crossed her arms and raised her chin. “If you look around, you’ll see.”

  Rafe stood ramrod still, his shoulders almost touching each side of the doorway. His gaze smoldered. The intensity morphed from anger and frustration to something more dangerous. Something naughty. She shivered at the images of that gaze in the midst of some hot, sweaty, monkey sex. Something she hadn’t had the pleasure of doing in… a long-ass time. In a flash, it was gone. Frustration creased his brow.

  A loud clanging in the corner caught her attention. Serah ambled toward her as she plucked glass from her corkscrew curls.

  “I can’t believe it! You are a demon.” She craned her head toward the door, her breath catching. “Have I died and gone to heaven?”

  Here we go again, she thought as she recalled Gerardo’s enamored reaction to Rafe earlier. “No, Serah. We’re still in Connolly Park, Michigan.” Leaning in, she whispered. “The man’s a homophobe, by the way.”

  “So what, he could be an ax murderer for all I care. He’s got major drool factor.” She smiled up at Rafe. “I’m sorry my friend’s being rude. Why not come in and help us tidy up?”

  Rafe shrugged and skimmed his fingers through his silky mane. “Your friend hasn’t invited me in. I can’t enter until welcome.”

  “You came into my shop earlier.” Lucy arched a brow. “How do you explain that?”

  Rafe threw back his head in a throaty roar of laughter that sent her heart fluttering. That homophobic, pheromone-inducing bastard. “Your sign said, ‘Open. Come on in.’” His eyes flickered. “Then you ordered me to leave.”

  “What are you? A vampire?” Lucy asked as she pulled a broom from the closet. Then again, with the amount of glass on the floor, she doubted ten brooms would help. At Rafe’s lack of answer, she sucked in a deep breath. “Fine, come on in. How’s that, big guy?”

  Serah paced the shop, mumbling beneath her breath. “This is terrible. What are you going to do?”

  Truth be told, she had no idea. And even scarier, she didn’t care. Her dream lay in front of her, in a pile of glass and a giant ocean upon the floor. “Yeah, sucks, doesn’t it?”

  Serah grabbed her by the shoulders. “Don’t you care?”

  “Do not touch her,” Rafe ordered. He leapt in the air and pulled Serah away. “You need to ask her permission.”

  What was the deal with asking permission? “She’s my friend, that’s permission enough.”

  “Very well,” Rafe said. “But heed my warning for future reference. A mortal may never touch a demon without permission.”

  Not this again. “Not you too! How in the hell can I be a demon? I have two very mortal parents.”

  “Succubus,” Rafe mumbled with a shake of his head.

  “Suck a what?” Serah asked, interrupting the not-so-private conversation.

  Rafe grabbed Lucy and turned her head to face him. “You’re a succubus. A sex demon.”

  Yeah right! Because she was just screaming sex. “And I bet you’re the pope come to save me from eternal damnation?”

  Rafe pulled her closer, their lips inches apart. His breath danced along her lips and she ached to kiss him. Absolutely nuts!

  His eyes glowed hot and angry, leaving her hungry. “We have serious problems, succubus, so I wouldn’t joke.” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and inched her head up. The action, even though forceful, held gentle care. His gaze smoldered like hot embers. Lucy’s body quivered with need.

  “I am not a succubus, demon, or whatever. Do I look like I’m seeping sexual energy?” But he certainly seeped plenty of it.

  Rafe’s breath teased her cheek. “Your energy was latent. Opening the chest has changed that.” His lips remained centimeters from hers. Kiss me, her mind urged. What the heck?

  “I know what you’re trying to do, my dear Lucia. It won’t work. It only works on humans.” He ripped himself away and turned his back to her.

  Lucy exhaled a deep breath. “Oh, so you’re a demon, too?” She turned to her friend who stood still, broom in hand. “Hey, Serah, do you believe this?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied as she swept up the shards of glass with her own broom. “You obviously have some powers. How do you explain what happened?” She gave Rafe a once-over. “So are you going to introduce me or what?”

  Lucy sighed. “My bad. Mr. Rafael Deleon, meet my friend Serah SanGermano.”

  The wannabe demon bowed. “Call me Rafe.”

  Serah nodded and extended her hand in gree
ting. “Nice to meet you.”

  He took her hand in a hearty shake. “I wish your friend here were more accepting of her condition, as you are.”

  “So say I am in fact a demon,” Lucy countered. “What’ll happen to me?”

  Rafe crossed his arms. “You’ll need to feed… soon.”

  “I suppose since I am a suck-you-whatever, I need to suck someone’s blood?” She turned to Serah and smiled. “Give me your wrist, baby.”

  Rafe rolled his eyes. “Your humor does little to help the situation. A succubus feeds on the sexual energy of men.”

  “Sounds fun,” she replied with a wink. “Let’s get it on then.” Bonus if he accepts. The way her body acted, she hoped to hell he would. But sensing the hot and cold vibe this man gave off, she doubted he would. One could hope, right?

  “I’m not a mortal. I will be of little use to you.” Rafe blew out an exasperated breath. “Perhaps it would be better if we discuss this in the morning.”

  Lucy nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll meet you at eight a.m. at the Starbucks on A-Line Road.”

  “I can’t leave you alone. You and your friend are in danger. Belial will come for you and the chest.”

  “Oh please!” As much as she fought the truth, she knew something was happening. It was in her blood. It kept her alert… wanting. “Fine. We’ll go to my house. What about Serah?”

  “She’ll have to come with us for the time being.” Rafe roved around the salon, gathering their coats. “I need something to cover the chest. When the handprint is exposed to the moonlight, it becomes a beacon. Every demon on Earth will know where we are.”

  Lucy grabbed a styling cape from the back of her chair, brandishing the purple nylon as if she were a matador tempting a bull. “Voila!”

  She threw the cape down, letting it drape across the chest, and turned to Serah. “Are you okay? You took quite a hit.”

  Serah nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little frazzled.”