Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld

by Christine Pope

  It was kind of nice having a conversation with a human who actually understood these things. Sam had taught her toy well. “None that I’ve ever experienced. The way his energy signature fluctuates, it’s like a botched summoning. He’s ghosting in then gone. I can’t imagine a demon doing that voluntarily. You wouldn’t be able to get anything done. Plus it would be annoying as all fuck.”

  “So someone here is a sorcerer trying to bring in a demon from Hel?” Wyatt looked around. “We’re all a bunch of geeks, excluding the hired booth models. How would we tell a sorcerer apart from the rest of us?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not my problem; it’s hers. This demon isn’t stepping on my toes, and last time I checked, I wasn’t an angel to go chasing down every demon who crossed the gates from Hel.”

  “So why are you here?” Wyatt arched an eyebrow. “You don’t know anything about computers beyond Internet gambling and surfing for porn. I can’t imagine there’d be anything at a security conference to tempt you.”

  “I’m here for her.” Dar nodded toward the angel. “I’m going to tempt her into sin — well, more sin than she’s currently indulging in. Which is quite a lot, let me tell you. Did you know she shoplifts clothing? She stole a biker jacket from AllSaints this morning, had three coffees, and licked a Danish. I’ll bet I can actually convince her to eat something. I’ll bet I can get her to do a whole lot more than that, if you get my drift.”

  “Right.” Wyatt shook his head, looking skeptically at Asta. “Just because your sister has managed to seduce an angel doesn’t mean you’re going to. No offense, dude, but she hasn’t even looked once at you.”

  “Yeah? Watch.” Dar made a quick motion with his hand, and the slick salesman at the Genus Micro booth suddenly found his pants around his ankles. Like steel to a magnet, everyone’s eyes turned to stare at the man’s crimson briefs — everyone but the angel.

  Asta’s eyes pivoted around, glaring right at Dar.

  “Okay, she’s looking at you, but, in my experience, that particular expression doesn’t lead to sex in the near future.”

  “Sure it does. Fistfights always lead to sex. You’re clearly lacking in your knowledge of how to woo demons.”

  “She’s not a demon,” Wyatt argued. “You should be helping little old ladies across the street, or picking up litter from the highway medians if you want to woo an angel.”

  “Even better.” Dar leaned in close to Wyatt. “I’m helping her catch a demon. I’ve got inside knowledge of a demonic plot to destroy the city. She’ll bag this bad guy then fall into my arms in gratitude — my muscular, buff, and tanned arms.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Liar. Seriously, Dar, if I can see through your bull, an angel will be able to.”

  “She’s coming this way.” Dar cut off Wyatt with a hand on his shoulder. “Ssssssh. Ixnay on the emonday.”

  “Why did you pants that man?” Asta demanded. “Have you found the demon yet? And what are the red items everyone is snatching up from the floor?” Her words were abrupt, but there was a warm glint in her brown eyes, and a hint of a smile on that luscious mouth. Yes, his lovely angel was trying to keep to business, but her mind was clearly thinking of something else, too.

  “Wow, she is hot. I mean, she’s hot for a human, but she’s really hot for an angel. They’re normally kind of statue-looking and blurry.”

  Dar winced, wondering at Wyatt’s intellect. Complimenting an angel on their manifestation of the human form was one thing, stating they were ‘hot’ by addressing them in the third person right in front of them was another.

  “And he is an idiot,” Dar told the angel. “I mean, he’s really an idiot for a human. They’re normally kind of clever in a lower-life-form kind of way.” Her eyes danced with humor as they met Dar’s, and he couldn’t help but catch his breath at the shared moment between them. “He’s an idiot, but he’s also right. You are hot. One smoking-hot angel.” Dar punched Wyatt good-naturedly in the shoulder. “And she’s my angel. I saw her first, so back off, buddy.”

  “I am no one’s.” Asta waved her hand dismissively. “Last I checked, I hadn’t been presented with a breeding contract, or any sort of exclusivity proposal. So, currently, I would consider myself unattached. And, just for your information, I would never consort with a human, especially one marked by a demon. He’s claimed.”

  “I’m so relieved to hear of your single and available status.” Dar put his hand on his chest. “And I’m also glad I’m not a human. There’s still a chance you might consort with a lowly demon.”

  “Is it snowing in your homeland? ‘Cause that’s the only way I’m consorting with you.” Asta smiled smugly. “Oh, and I have your clothes from the other night at my place. Do you want me to drop them by your hotel room?”

  Wyatt made a choking noise, and Dar stifled a laugh. The angel probably had no idea what she’d just implied. “Just keep them at your place. It’ll be good to have a spare set there. I’ll make sure to bring over a toothbrush and razor next time.”

  “Toothbrush and razor? What are you talking about?” Asta tilted her head, wrinkling her forehead in adorable confusion. “And back to my original question: why did you disrobe that man?”

  “To get your attention.”

  Asta bit her lip, obviously trying to hide a smile, the gold flecks glowing in her eyes. “A little unorthodox, but you get points for creativity. And now you have my attention. Have you located the other demon? I’ve searched this hall all morning and haven’t sensed him. Not that sensing anything is easy with all the electronic equipment and the number of attendees. Did you know, it took me twenty minutes to get down this aisle? The crowds here are insane.”

  “I haven’t sensed the demon either, but I did bring you something. Here.” Dar handed her a white bag. She took it, holding it gingerly between thumb and forefinger.

  “Please tell me this isn’t bird poop. Or worse, demon poop.”

  Now that would be funny. “Look inside. Go on.”

  She opened the bag, holding her breath as she looked. With a sharp inhalation, the angel dug her other hand into the bag, withdrawing a brightly colored, circular-shaped pastry.

  “Hey, can I have one?” Wyatt looked longingly at the bag.

  “No, you can’t. They are only for my angel. I don’t buy expensive food for humans.”

  Asta gave Wyatt an apologetic look but didn’t offer him one. “What are they? I saw them in the window at Alliance Bakery. Are they some kind of donut?”

  “Donut? Babe, I would never present you with lowly donuts. These are macarons. I figured if you’re going to be chugging coffee like a third-shift convenience-store clerk, you might as well indulge in quality pastries, too.”

  The angel took a bite, making appreciative noises as she chewed.

  “That one’s salted caramel. The one with the black specks is lemon poppy, and the green is pistachio. The brown is milk-chocolate passion. Save that one for last, because I’m pretty sure you’ll have an orgasm while eating it. I wouldn’t want you to collapse on the floor and crush the other macarons while in the throes of ecstasy.”

  “Mummffm, mumm.”

  Dar was fairly certain that hadn’t been a declaration of love — or lust — but from the rate she was devouring the pastries, he knew his impulsive trip this morning had paid off. Score one for the demon, he thought smugly.

  “Wow, those are good.” The angel crumpled up the bag and placed it neatly in a nearby trash can, licking the crumbs from her fingers. “And I am suddenly very energetic.”

  Sugar rush. Dar bit back a smile and nodded. “Just think of how much you’d be able to accomplish if you made macarons part of your daily morning routine.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. Her form shimmered briefly before returning to its perfect state. “I’ll consider it. Now, what is this red thing the humans want so badly that they’ll risk wearing holes in the knees of their pants to obtain?”

  “Porn. Here, let me have yours. Or better ye
t, we can watch it together tonight in the privacy of my hotel room.”

  Asta lifted an eyebrow. “Porn? It’s an Internet security conference. Why would anyone here be interested in images of human reproduction attempts?”

  “Humans are always interested in sex. We probably don’t go ten minutes without thinking about it. Well, at least the guys don’t. But that doesn’t—” Wyatt grunted as Dar elbowed him in the stomach.

  “See the woman handing them out? She’s going to be banging at least two-dozen lucky guys tonight.”

  “Liar.” Asta rolled her eyes and threw the USB stick. It bounced off Dar’s forehead and onto the carpet. “Tell me the truth.”

  “It has computer software on it. The humans find it particularly valuable, but only for the next month. After that, they’ll find the next version particularly valuable.”

  “Waste of my time,” Asta muttered, turning to leave. “I’m going to keep looking around to see if I can pick up any traces of the demon.”

  “Ask me what else I know. Go ahead, ask.”

  She sighed but turned back to face him. “You don’t know anything, Dar. All you’ve done this morning is run around, collect silly cheap trinkets, and ogle the booth models.”

  “And buy you pastries. I did buy you pastries. And I never even got a ‘thank you’ for that either. Angels: so ungrateful and impolite.”

  The angel took a deep breath. “Thank you very much for bringing the macarons. They were delicious, and I enjoyed them greatly. And you were right about the lobster crepes last night. I went back while I was looking for the demon and tried them. They were amazing. I’m afraid I was quite a glutton and ate two.”

  She went back and ate something — ate something he’d been urging her to try. Dar’s heart skipped a beat. What else would she enjoy? Peking duck? Mushroom risotto? Twenty-year-old scotch? Maybe more than a kiss? It was all he could do to keep from grabbing her and dragging her off to his hotel room.

  Instead, he grinned like a fool. “I’m holding you to that rain check on the blues club, you know.”

  “What blues club?” Wyatt asked.

  He might as well have not spoken for all the attention either paid to him.

  “Nope.” Asta wagged her index finger at Dar. “I seem to recall you telling me, with a liberal sprinkling of profanity, you weren’t taking my rain check. We’re in negotiations, demon. Nothing for free. Tell me what you know about any plot on the convention or any demon activity in my city, and I might be willing to eat more pastries.”

  Dar barked out a laugh. As if that were an even trade. He’d have to think of something clever for his made-up information. Turning to Wyatt, the demon raised his eyebrows. “See? She wants me. I’ll be getting me some angel love by the end of the week, or my name isn’t—“

  With a squeak, Dar found himself sitting on one of the rafters. Aside from Wyatt, the humans below were blissfully ignorant of the angel’s meteoric rise with him in tow. Wow, she was fast.

  Reclining casually against a thin suspension wire, Asta gave him an easy smile. “Now that we’re away from that human’s prying ears, let’s negotiate. What do you want in exchange for information and your assistance?”

  A fifty-foot drop wouldn’t be fatal, but it wouldn’t be enjoyable either, especially if he landed on that pointy booth below. “How about we do this at a lower altitude. Like ground level. I’ll even spring for coffee.”

  The angel tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows. “But this is so much more private. Come on. Tell me your outrageous demands. I’ll protest, and then we’ll eventually come to an agreement.”

  Screw that. He’d be happy to make outrageous demands; if only he wasn’t gripping the beam with all his strength and trying to keep from hyperventilating. “I have good reason to believe there’s a sorcerer involved who is attempting to summon the demon.”

  Asta narrowed her eyes. He’d just volunteered that? Last night he’d alluded to a botched summoning, but for him to give information without any kind of demand? Angels always bartered favors and information, and she’d been told demons were the same. Why was this information free?

  “How do you know this? Who is the sorcerer, and what does he intend to have the demon do?” Might as well go with it. Maybe this information would also come without strings. Could be her lucky day.

  The demon swallowed hard, his knuckles white on the beam. Was he lying? In her experience, when someone had sweat beading on their forehead, they were usually lying.

  “I’m not saying anything else until I’m in the convention café, in a chair with a cup of overpriced, crappy coffee in my hand.”

  “Fine.” Grabbing him by the shoulders, she dropped from the rafters, dumping him into a chair by the food concession area. He sat with a hard thump and wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “I don’t know exactly what the demon has planned. We just gotta find the sorcerer, and then we’ll have the demon.”

  “And how do you propose we do this?” Asta wasn’t sure if this fell in her jurisdiction or not. Technically, she was just supposed to take out any demons who crossed over from Hel, not interfere in human activities. Even if this sorcerer was summoning a demon, she might not be able to act until the demon had actually appeared — and then she’d only be able to deliver justice to the demon. Human justice was outside her authority.

  “You take that side of the convention hall, and I’ll take the other. Look for a guy with a pointy hat, a wand, and possibly a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead.”

  Okay, that was the funny Dar from last night. Thank goodness he’d stopped sweating like he was on the verge of a heart attack. “I think I would have noticed that particular human on my search this morning. Get serious, or you’ll find out how those little red plastic things feel crammed up your nose.”

  “Promises, promises. Angels are such teases.”

  Asta made a quick move, and Dar held out his hands, batting hers away as she thrust the USB sticks at him.

  “A sorcerer probably won’t stand out in a crowd, but in order to summon the demon, he’ll need to have some obvious tools. There will be a circle of salt and a summoning triangle within it at the very least. Depending on who he is summoning, he’ll have protective runes around the perimeter. He’ll probably be summoning from a scroll, since doing it from memory is dangerous.”

  She steepled her hands and rested her chin on the fingertips as she regarded him. “Seriously? How would that not cause notice among the other humans? Honestly, a salt ring with runes is going to stand out just as much as a man with a pointy hat.”

  “It doesn’t have to. The circle and runes could be disguised in the pattern of a carpet, mosaic, or wood parquet floor. Salt could be worked into a pattern of tiles. Even the actual summoning can be buried beneath a song melody or background noise. It doesn’t have to be loud to work.” Dar leaned forward. “And from how this demon is reacting, I’m guessing it’s not an optimal summoning. It makes sense that the sorcerer is trying to disguise his actions, and there’s a break in the ritual or pattern somewhere that’s causing the in-and-out cycle of energy we’ve sensed.”

  Funny, silly, and a whole lot of crazy, this demon was also smart. When it came time to get serious, he really had a brain in behind that handsome face.

  Asta tilted her head and regarded the demon. “How do you know all this?”

  “I’m fucking brilliant, that’s how.” Dar stood and headed to the concession area, making disgusted noises as he looked through the selections.

  Seems his brain wasn’t serious for long. She hated to admit it, but that was actually part of his charm. Everyone in Aaru was so darned somber; it was refreshing to work with someone who wasn’t. Asta followed him and picked up a cellophane-wrapped sandwich. “Is this good? Should I eat this?”

  Dar snatched it from her and threw it across the room. “Not unless you want to be hugging a toilet the rest of the day.”

  There was something in his voice that made her wonder i
f the humor was forced. “Have you been summoned before?”

  The demon gave up on the snack foods and grabbed a bottle of water instead. “A few times. Being summoned sucks.”

  “What’s it like?”

  He took a long sip of his drink before answering. “Being ripped away from whatever you’re doing and dumped in a tiny, cramped space with some bearded guy, or worse a bearded lady, ordering you to do shit for them. Whatever they want is usually boring. Then they send you back to Hel without even a ‘thank you’. Like I said, it sucks.”

  Asta caught her breath imagining how horrible it would be — minding your own business, drinking coffee and enjoying the sunrise only to be yanked away and forced to do another’s bidding.

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry. How many times. . .?”

  Dar gave a bitter laugh and tossed the half-full water bottle into the trash. “Too many. Sometimes I’ve been lucky enough to talk my way out of a deal. A few times lucky enough to manage to kill the sorcerer.”

  Asta winced. If he did that now, she’d have to kill him for breaking the terms of his immunity. It didn’t seem fair. These summoned demons weren’t here voluntarily and were performing their vile deeds under a human’s direction. The thought opened up a whole new moral dilemma for her.

  “I’m not sure I can kill this demon if he’s being summoned. Perhaps I’ll just subdue him and send him back through the gates.”

  Dar snorted. “Yeah. Great idea. Do you plan on killing the sorcerer too? Because that demon will be summoned back by the end of the week if you don’t.”

  “I can’t kill a human. It’s not within my authority to punish native species. I’m an enforcer, not an angel of judgment.”

  “So humans are the only native species here? Because you sure as hell didn’t have any problems killing those rats last night.” He tempered the harshness of his words with a rakish grin. “Not that I see that as a character flaw or anything. Willingness to kill with wanton abandon is totally sexy in my book.”

  Asta dropped her eyes. “Rats count, just as much as humans. I didn’t mean to kill them. I’m just . . . I’m afraid of rats.”