Demons Prefer Blondes

by Sidney Ayers

  “Of course, you said I was only half-sexy, remember?”

  Rafe shook his head, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. Tingles raced through her body. “You shouldn’t have this much power.”

  “Maybe I’m special?” she quipped. Then her mind spun with questions. “Maybe some of the chest’s energy is inside me.”

  Rafe shook his head again. “That’s a good explanation, Lucy. But the chest has no energy. The energy now in it is yours. It is your energy that opened it and it’s your energy that is keeping it shut.”

  So now she was a walking sexpot and couldn’t do anything about it? Life couldn’t get any more fucked up. For five years she’d been content being alone, but now it seemed she was heading toward a stampede—literally—of rampaging testosterone.

  “Unbelievable,” she muttered. What on Earth—or more appropriately, hell—did she do to deserve this?

  With a quick right, she turned into Green’s Corner shopping center. Thank God they were almost there.

  Who’s my maker now?

  All of a sudden, a man dropped down in front of the car, his gaze challenging and his stance ready to fight. “Something tells me that he’s not one of the good guys.”

  “You would be correct.” Rafe snorted. “Belial hasn’t changed. Sending his goons to do his dirty work.”

  Serah squeaked in the back seat. “Demons can come out in the daylight?”

  “Helio-demons. They pull their energy from the sun.”

  A sarcastic chuckle escaped her mouth. “Great! A walking solar panel. Lucky for us, it’s cloudy right now.”

  They had two options. Either A—run into the mob of crazy obsessive fans, or B—fight a sun demon on a cloudy day. Did Britney Spears have such monumental decisions? Then again, she did run over a photographer’s foot to escape the paparazzi. If this was what celebrities went through on a daily basis, she didn’t envy them one bit.

  She settled for option C—putting the pedal to the metal and running over the evil demon. With a wicked grin, she ground her foot on the gas. The car sputtered and shook as it accelerated. Stupid little four-banger. Then again, how would she know she would have to go zero to sixty in five seconds when she bought it. At least it got good gas mileage. If the thing in front of her was a demon, would it have blood and guts? Hopefully not. However, she’d rather take chances with one demon than five hundred pheromone-intoxicated men.

  “What in Hades are you doing?” Rafe ground out. He gripped the oh-shit handle tight in his hand and braced himself in his seat.

  Puhlease! This guy was sexy and could kiss with the best of them, but he needed to lighten up. All her jokes went straight over his head. “I’m taking matters into my own hands,” she said, shifting into fourth gear. She made a mental note: Next time buy an automatic.

  “I forbid it.”

  Forbid this, asshole.

  “Look,” she said, pointing behind her. Two Santa Clauses—sounded like a grammar lesson gone bad—tore at each other’s suits, throwing lefts and rights. One hiked up his knee and kicked the other in his gigantic gut. The man gripped his stomach in pain and doubled over. Guess it wasn’t padding, after all. The other smiled triumphantly and raised his hands over his head in victory. The other Santa reached up and grabbed his belt, pulling his red velvet pants down. His victorious smile turned into a shocked Oh. Reaching down, he covered his Christmas package—thank goodness. Why this Santa chose to go commando would remain a mystery to her, and she was quite happy keeping it that way. With a quick turn, he ran back down the street, tripping on his pants, two giant cheeks jiggling like bowls full of jelly. Lucy shook her head, struggling to block the image that played like a low-rate B movie out of her mind.

  Serah threw her hands over her eyes. “I’m mentally scarred.”

  “Trust me, you aren’t the only one.” Lucy shivered in revulsion.

  Rafe simply shrugged. “Demon it is.”

  Chapter 7

  “I figured you’d come around to my way of thinking.” Lucy slammed her foot on the gas and the car lunged forward. Rafe’s grip tightened on the handle and his face scrunched.

  The thing stood foreboding with yellow glowing eyes, fangs glinting in the sunlight that peeked through puffy clouds. Menacing evil flashed across its face as clumps of matted hair tufted its cheeks. Cold and lifeless apathy shone in its expression. Soulless—if there truly was such a thing. Evil radiated from the being like a case of bad BO. From the glare in its eyes, this would not be easy.

  All of a sudden another being fell from the sky. A cute little ball of fur that stood about three feet tall, it spread its elongated arms wide, sending a huge ball of energy at the other demon. The monkey-like being jumped high into the air and did a back flip, landing right on top of his shoulders.

  Lucy spun the steering wheel and veered to the right, tires squealing in protest. Thank goodness the parking lot was empty. “What the hell was that?”

  “An imp,” Rafe said, loosening his grip on the handle. “Just what we need.” He shook his head.

  She arched an eyebrow. “An imp? It looked more like a monkey on speed.” She pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park. Looking into her rearview mirror, she blinked. The imp had the demon pinned and jumped up and down on him. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming? ’Cause this is fucked-up.”

  Rafe shook his head. “I wish I could tell you something different.”

  Maybe someone had laced her vanilla latte with acid. Why else would she be having such crazy hallucinations? Then again, experts did say no two people ever share the same hallucination. Damn the experts. Why did they always have to be—well—experts?

  “Fucked-up is an understatement, girl.” Serah shuddered. “Let’s hurry before your group of fawning admirers finds you.”

  Lucy slid her keys into her pocket and, with caution, swung the door open. The stampeding men had since stopped to help the imp take care of the evil demon.

  “Wow,” was all she could mutter. A few straggling men jogged toward her. Would they ever give up? In normal circumstances, she’d be all for a little attention from the opposite sex. But this much attention wasn’t what she had in mind.

  “Hey baby!” a bespectacled, pocket protector–sporting guy shouted. His pants came well above his waist, giving her a glimpse of white socks and just-as-white ankles. Hell no!

  “Hot damn! You’re one sexy broad,” an overly muscled, steroid-popping body builder said. Maybe their brains shrunk when their muscles inflated. He flexed his muscles, his pecs bobbing against the tight wife-beater shirt. How long would it take for those nipples to shrink in the cold?

  Someone grabbed her hand. Shocks of energy raced through her. Rafe. He looked at her, his gaze urgent. “Let’s move!”

  Not one to object, she put her feet to icy asphalt and allowed Rafe to pull her across the street to her shop. Why on Earth did she choose this building? Oh, that’s right. It was all she could afford. Then again, she loved it. It was her baby, after all.

  They dodged cars, ice slicks, and men, of course. There wasn’t any way to avoid them. Catcalls, horns, and men shouting the worst-ever pickup lines echoed in her ears.

  “This sucks.” She shook her head in frustration, petulance lacing her voice. “Make it stop.”

  Only six hours into her stint as a succubus and she was already overwhelmed. Just what everyone needed—a sex demon near mental breakdown! With a deep sigh, she pulled her coat tightly against her body.

  “Kalli will help you,” Rafe whispered in her ear as he pulled her closer to him. Shivers of excitement ripped down her spine. She might be a succubus, but she hungered for one six-foot-four of pure demon muscle. None of these puny men following her had anything on him.

  As if sensing her excitement, Rafe pulled away. What the hell? She knew he enjoyed that kiss. Mr. Happy Pants had shown her that earlier. Now he was cold, distant, and utterly aloof. Maybe it was because she forgot to shower and put on deodorant before they left.
/>   Stupid, stupid, arrogant man.

  She shifted her gaze to her shop. The early morning sun reflected against the windows. Her eyes burned. She tried shielding them with her arm, but nothing helped. “That’s bright.” Add the white fluffy snow to the mix, and it was a migraine waiting to happen.

  “Your new eyes need to adjust.” Rafe, ever the gentleman, thrust a pair of sunglasses in her hand. “You’ll need to wear these most of the day.”

  With a huff, she pushed the glasses on. “How do I explain the shades, smarty-pants?”

  Serah trudged up from behind. “You got shit-faced and your eyes are all red.”

  “If only that were the truth.” She turned to face Serah. Despite the beating she almost gave her last night, not a hair on her pretty little head was injured.

  Serah’s mouth gaped open. “Prada! He got you to wear Prada? Dang, Rafe. You’re good.”

  Lucy narrowed a glare at her friend. “I can be a fashionista—when I want to.”

  “You look stylin’.” Serah smiled. “You should do it more often.”

  “Sit and spin,” Lucy said, flipping the bird.

  Serah grinned. “You’ll hate yourself in fifty years when arthritis sets in.”

  “Cool, then my finger will be ready to salute you when we’re old and in our rocking chairs.”

  Rafe shook his head as he pulled the door open to the shop. “I have business on the other side. I trust Kalli to keep you safe.”

  Peering into the shop, Lucy’s breath caught. The shampoo bowls shined brighter than they ever had since she bought them. The floor sparkled. The tiles were so clean she could’ve eaten off them if she wanted. Every fixture in the shop seemed to glow.

  “Rafe? Is that you?” The voice, low and sultry, sent a bolt of jealousy streaking through her. Dang, she had it bad for this man.

  Emerging from the back office, she smiled. Her dreadlocks hung around her face in myriad reds, purples, and blues. A silver ring jutted from her lower lip and more dotted her eyebrows. Her ears were concealed by the mop that topped her head, but it was safe to assume they were equally decorated. She flung her rainbow hair to the side, revealing a tight purple and black lace bodice.

  Her cups ran over—big time. Her black leather miniskirt gave way to ripped fishnets and huge honking-heel buckled combat boots. Not to be outdone, beautiful vines of ivy and flowers snaked up her arm and down her chest to hide beneath her bodice. Lucy wasn’t one to get ink, but she did admire the art. This was some of the most beautiful inkwork she’d ever seen. No wonder Frankie and Gerardo flipped a lid.

  “Enjoying the view?” Kalli asked with a cute chuckle. For all her dark facade, her smile radiated friendliness. She took Lucy’s hand in hers and shook. “You must be Lucia. Nice to meet you.”

  “Thanks,” was all she could mutter. “My shop looks great. Where are Frankie and Gerardo?”

  Goth girl beamed. “It was nothing. A lot easier to fix than most Rafe’s other messes.” She flashed him a wicked smile.

  Rafe crossed his arms and snorted. “I didn’t do this.”

  “True, but why did I find demon blood out there on the street? Old blood too.” Kalli wrinkled her nose and clucked her tongue. “I could smell it for miles.”

  Rafe’s jaw tightened, clearly irritated by her interrogation. “Lamia ambushed me before I could intercept the chest.”

  “Lamia? What’s she doing here?” Kalli muttered something in a language Lucy didn’t recognize. Greek maybe? “For God’s sake, why didn’t you say anything?”

  Rafe clenched his fists into tight balls, his jaw throbbing harder. “It was late and my only concern was…” His voice drifted as his gaze drew Lucy in. “…the chest.”

  The chest? What about this “I’m here to protect you” baloney he rattled off earlier? She should’ve known. He was a man after all.

  Lucy’s heart sunk and a lump formed in her throat. “Your precious chest is fine, Rafe. You can go back to Hell now.”

  “Smooth move, ex-lax.” Kalli shook her head. “Still the same. You’ve got a real way with words, Rafe.”

  Rafe narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “I can’t bring the chest back until the loosed demons are rounded up, and we can’t do that without Lucy.”

  Hello! She was standing right there. Was she supposed to wave her hands to get attention while they verbally sparred? From their intense glares and gazes, that answer would be yes. No way would she let this be an A and B conversation, so she would C her way in—one way or the other. “So how do I get the demons back in?” Obviously not with chocolate, that would be too easy. If only she had an easy button. Damn those TV commercials for making things look so simple.

  “I need to guard the chest.”

  The door swung open. The ape-faced imp from earlier waddled in. “Nope. Rafael Deleon, you’ve been summoned,” it said, sounding like Joe Pesci on helium. “The Fore-Demons request your presence. I’ve been ordered to watch the chest.”

  No one would believe this crap. “A talking monkey? I’ve officially seen it all.”

  “What? An imp guarding the chest?” Rage boiled in Rafe’s eyes. He clenched and unclenched his fists.

  Grinning, the imp handed Rafe a piece of parchment. “Not just any imp. Your imp.”

  “Bloody hell,” Rafe muttered. He crunched the fancy paper and threw it against the wall. “Can things get any more complicated?”

  “Complicated?” The imp scratched its head then moved to its under-pit. How like a monkey! At least it didn’t smell its finger. “I’m a blessing. I saved your asses back there.”

  It walked around the shop, eying everyone suspiciously. “Whoa! We gots lots of demons here.” Scratching its butt, it approached Serah with cautious steps. “What in Tartarus?” Its eyes bugged out and it cringed as a squeak erupted from its mouth. What looked like fear sparked in its eyes as it scuttled back behind Rafe and attached itself to a leather-clad leg. Lucky SOB!

  Now she was jealous of a wannabe monkey?

  Rafe growled and shook his leg, sending the poor imp flying against the wall. “Enough!”

  “Owwie!” the imp cried, rubbing its head. “That hurt. Not a good way to start our relationship.”

  Lucy arched a brow—a talent she was getting more proficient at. “What’s the deal? It’s kind of cute in a weird sort of way.”

  Serah shrugged. “Yeah, even though it doesn’t like me.”

  Rafe crossed his arms across his chest and stood stony still. “I’m not at all amused with this.”

  “There isn’t much that amuses you. Lighten up some.” This coming from Kalli. She turned and shook her head at the imp. “Squeaky, I told you to wait until Rafe met with the council.”

  Squeaky? How appropriate. Lucy tried to stifle her snicker but failed miserably. Squeaky’s fur-covered brow scrunched into a scowl, his hairy hands clenching into balls. “Sorry, I’m trying to get over the fact that you’re an imp that looks like a monkey that sounds like a chipmunk.”

  Squeaky huffed, a sound like an annoying whistle. “I’m not a monkey. I’m a freakin’ chimpanzee. I’m pretty suave, though. Right?”

  Oh brother! Did this thing think he was an extra from The Sopranos?

  “Uh, sure.” She extended her hand to Squeaky, who had since given up Rafe’s leg. “My name’s Lucy. Thanks for saving our butts back there.”

  He smiled, revealing giant yellow teeth. “It’s not my fault I got saddled with this body. I was busy teaching a lesson to some punks at the zoo and hopped into the first form I could find. Why in the hell couldn’t I have been near the Antarctica exhibit? I’ve always wanted to be a penguin.” Squeaky sighed. “Now I’m here, picking fleas from my stinky ass.”

  An imp who was a chimp that wanted to be a penguin. Priceless. “Well, chimps are cute, and an impish chimp is even cuter.”

  “What a woman! If I could take a human form, I’d give you a call.”

  “You can’t take a human form?”

  Squeaky
shook his head. “Being an imp, I’m forced to take on the form of those less intelligent beasts. But I’m strong. I took your cousin’s form, y’know?”

  “Why is Rafe so ticked?” Lucy turned her head to glance over at the enigma of a man. He stood in the corner glowering as he punched a number into his cell phone.

  Kalli snorted a chuckle. “Because instead of a tiger or a lion, or some other beast for a familiar, the Fore-Demons sent Squeaky the Wonder Chimp instead.”

  Talk about a blow to the male ego. “Chimps are intelligent, though.”

  “It’s his familiar, an extension of his inner self. Seeing a part of you as a lower class primate isn’t that great.”

  “Well, he is a man.”

  “More than you realize,” Kalli said with a wink.

  Rafe cleared his throat. “I am still here, Kalli. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop humoring yourselves at my expense.”

  “But it’s so easy to ruffle your feathers.” Kalli grinned, giving Rafe a playful punch to his shoulder.

  Lucy’s eyebrows arched. “Speaking of feathers, where are Gerardo and Frankie?”

  “They are checking inventory in the back.” Kalli grinned, clasping her hands in front of her. “What a great crew you have.”

  Lucy beamed. She couldn’t get any better than Frankie and Gerardo. They were dedicated, had great personalities, and most importantly, they were awesome stylists.

  “What can I say? They rock.”

  “Kalli, Lucy, and I need to talk.” Rafe motioned to Serah and Squeaky. “Privately.”

  Serah took the hint. “I can go check on the guys.” She looked over at Squeaky, who cowered in the corner.

  “Do I have to?” Squeaky eyed Serah as if she were a lion ready to pounce. “With her?”

  “Yes.” Rafe’s answer was firm, leaving no room for refusal. He pushed the reluctant chimp toward Serah. “Go.”

  Lucy wagged a finger at Squeaky. “And no monkey business. Gerardo and Frankie aren’t to know a thing. Got it?”

  “Yes,” Squeaky said with a little mope.

  Serah grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite, unless you piss me off.”