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

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Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld Page 37

by Christine Pope


  Stupid revolving doors. What idiot thought these things were a good method of entering a building? She stood watching as the door made its circuitous route. Could she time it so she actually managed to get in between the sections? The last time, she’d been knocked backwards onto the pavement. That wouldn’t be a graceful entrance given her current dress and sky-high stilettos.

  “Need help?”

  She recognized his voice even before the faint energy trickled across her skin with its siren song. How did he do that? Thank Aaru all demons weren’t as stealthy as Dar, or her job would be nearly impossible. As she turned, she realized that with her heels, she towered over him. In flats, she was the same height as the demon, but the shoes she loved so much put Dar’s chin right at her bosom — a fact he’d quickly realized and had taken advantage of.

  “Want me to get the door for you?” he asked her breasts.

  “Did you make reservations? Otherwise we can skip the revolving door and just head over to Taco Bell.”

  The demon chuckled and brushed a curl from her bare shoulder, his fingers lingering against her neck while his eyes explored the skin north of her cleavage. “Of course I made reservations. I didn’t want you to give me any excuse to not eat tonight.”

  “I swore I’d play your game tonight as long as you help me catch the other demon. I’ll eat anything you put in front of me.”

  Why did that cause the demon to nearly fall over laughing? Did he have something in particular he wanted her to eat, the thought of which was giving him such amusement?

  Oh. Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best thing for her to say given his proclivity toward the sin of lust.

  Wiping his eyes, still chuckling, Dar strode forward, stopping the revolving door to the angry protests of those trapped inside. “Then let us dine, my angel.”

  Asta took a deep breath and walked past him, putting her palms on the front of the glass as she’d seen the humans do. Hopefully he wouldn’t bump her out as he had the other evening. With these shoes on, she’d probably land face-first on the plush carpet.

  “Ready?”

  She should have known he’d squeeze into the tiny space behind her, pressing the full length of his form against her back and rear. Asta tried to scoot forward, only to find herself sandwiched between the demon and the glass. The humans yelled at them to move, but Dar held still, his body warm and powerful.

  “Maybe we should just stay here a while.” His hips shifted and Asta felt something stir to life, hard and firm against her buttocks.

  She’d told him no sex, but rubbing against her in the doorway wasn’t off limits. And it was most definitely brought with it welcome sensations. “We need to move,” Asta said with regret. She tried to push the door forward, but Dar had it wedged in place. The trapped humans began to pound on the glass.

  “I love pissing them off,” he whispered against her hair. “So much anger over such a minor inconvenience. The gifts of Aaru seem to have turned them into a bunch of minor demons, don’t you agree?”

  It did seem a fair comparison at the moment, but Asta hadn’t squandered her century here. She’d seen sparks of divinity in the human race, and no demon was going to convince her otherwise.

  She shifted to look at him over her shoulder, rubbing herself along his body in the process. Oh stars, this felt good. If only those darned humans weren’t causing such a racket. “You’re being inconsiderate.” Her voice was breathless. “They have a right to be angry. And they’re still very early in their evolution. Give them another ten-thousand years or so, and I think you’ll find they’re more angelic.”

  “Fuck, I hope not.” He pressed her harder against the glass, moving the door forward a few inches. “Besides, I won’t be around for ten-thousand years. Demons don’t usually live that long. Lives as exciting as ours tend to terminate fairly early.”

  On that depressing thought, the demon moved the door forward, holding her waist to steady her upon exit. There was no reason demons shouldn’t live for billions of years as their angel counterparts did. Live fast and die young seemed a poor bargain, but Dar didn’t appear to be bothered that his lifestyle resulted in a significant reduction in life expectancy.

  Dar confirmed his reservation with the hostess, taking the black box she handed to him. “Shall we sit at the bar and have a drink before dinner?”

  She shrugged. “It’s your night.”

  Why was she being so rude? She’d made this bargain; there was no reason for her to lose her manners over it. And so far the evening had been very stimulating – especially their moment in the doorway. “Yes, I’d love a drink before dinner,” she amended with a smile. The evening would be far more pleasant if she put two-million years of dislike and distrust aside and just went with it. Besides, she actually liked this demon. He was clever and funny, and his pursuit of her was very flattering. Screw all she’d been taught in Aaru. Screw a hundred years of dedicated service and proper vibration levels. This was her last week, and this was a date with a demon. She was going to throw caution to the winds and enjoy every moment of it.

  One glare from Dar and a couple of businessmen grabbed their drinks and vacated two adjacent seats at the bar. The demon waited until she’d sat then leaned over the edge to flag down the bartender.

  “I’ll have a coffee,” Asta told the smiling blond woman.

  “Oh, no she won’t.” Dar raised an eyebrow, his gaze traveling down the angel’s body. “The lady will have a Moscow Mule, and I’d like a gin and tonic with a twist.”

  “What’s a Moscow Mule?” Asta had a sneaking suspicion the bartender wouldn’t be bringing her an equine imported from Russia.

  “You’ll see.”

  The mule didn’t come with four legs and long ears; it came in an icy-cold copper mug. Asta sniffed it suspiciously then took a tentative sip.

  “Ooh! Ginger, lime, and some kind of fermented grain. Very refreshing.”

  Dar’s expression was smug. “See? You should trust me. Only the best for my angel.”

  Trust him? The odd thing was, she did. In spite of all the warning bells that had been going off in her head since the day she’d met him, she did trust him. Especially when it came to food and drink. She took another sip.

  The mule was amazing. Asta had begun experimenting with a handful of beverages once she’d found out how addicting espresso could be. It would take her years in Aaru to break herself of a newfound soda craving, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get over her love of coffee. This mule drink could prove to be a new vice, although it would be a short-lived one. One week. Less than one more week.

  “Did you enjoy my hotel room? The tub? Is there anything left in the mini bar?”

  How embarrassing would it be to admit she’d spent nearly an hour in the enormous tub, wings submerged in the scorching-hot water? “It was okay. Nothing in the mini bar appealed to me.”

  The demon’s eyes seemed to dissect through her indifferent statement. It was almost as though he’d seen her naked and half dozing, the water steaming around her.

  “I think something appealed to you. You clean up real nice, angel.”

  Asta shook her head at his contrived drawl. “I took a bath. That was it.”

  A bath was all she’d had time for. Asta had made a detour to her special spot, the place she kept all the forbidden things an angel shouldn’t be hording. Once there, it had taken her nearly an hour to decide which clothing to wear. And for what? She pouted a bit that he hadn’t even commented on her dress. “So, what do you think of my outfit?”

  He smirked, his facial expression that of a lion about to pounce on a gazelle. “Where’d you steal this one from?”

  Asta’s face heated, and she stuttered as she collected her thoughts. “I don’t steal! Sometimes I borrow, and when I do, I always find a way to compensate the store. This is an Evelyn Macon original. I made sure she won a scratch-off lottery ticket that was more than the retail price on the dress.”

  The demon’s grin
threatened to encompasses the lower half of his face. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, shoplifter.”

  Jerk. She realized her fascination with human fashion and their interesting, short lives wasn’t in keeping with what an angel should be spending her time doing. One more week, then all would be cleansed away by the purity of Aaru.

  “It’s a beautiful dress.” He leaned in close. “In spite of my pickiness over which suits I steal from the drycleaners, I’m not much of a clothes horse. Honestly, you’d be far more attractive naked and sprawled across my bed.”

  “That’s not part of our deal tonight,” Asta interjected. “So just wipe that thought right out of your mind.” Not that she could wipe that thought out of her mind. It was there forever now, branded into her brain.

  He leaned even closer, so near, his breath caressed her cheek. “I can’t. Not with all this warm-brown skin on display. How do you manage such a convincing human form? Other angels I’ve met look like bleached statues.”

  “I’m very young, not even three-million years old.” Why was her voice so breathless? “Umm, so I don’t have the ability to enthrall the humans as other angels do. Blending in with them is essential if I’m going to do my job.”

  Dar laughed. “Three million is ancient to us. Most demons that make it through infancy don’t survive more than a few millennia. The big dogs are maybe ten-to-twenty-thousand years old max, and there are only a handful of ancients left that were alive during the war.”

  Asta tilted her head, regarding him in surprise. “Wow. I’m the baby up in Aaru — the youngest of all the angels. I was created just as the war started.”

  The demon choked on his drink. “You’re fucking joking me. Three-million years and no angels have been getting it on? That’s one hell of a dry spell. You all must be ready to gnaw your wings off.”

  “We’re getting it on.” Asta felt herself flush with indignation. “We just can’t breed. Trust me, we are still capable of intimacy.”

  Dar raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Right. You all hate being in physical form and don’t manifest genitals when you do — what are you doing to get off?”

  I can’t believe I’m having this conversation at all, let alone with a demon. Asta took a huge swig of her drink, trying to figure out how to explain this properly.

  “I’ll have you know that some of us do manifest genitalia — even though we don’t use them. An accurate representation of the human form is important to some of us. And we manage to get off just fine. We merge our spirit-beings. It’s very . . . satisfying.”

  The demon snorted. “Satisfying? A steak is satisfying; sex is mind-blowing. You must not be doing it right.”

  Now it was Asta’s turn to choke on her drink. “I am too doing it right! It’s good. It’s nice. I like it.”

  Sheesh, she sounded like she was trying to convince him she liked broccoli. It had been satisfying, although she believed a good cup of coffee was more enjoyable.

  “Who? And when? Name the last angel you were intimate with, and tell me when you all did the nasty.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him it was none of his business. One week. One week of fun then it was back to Aaru. This whole thing was daring, but now it was starting to feel like a spring-break video. Angels Gone Wild. Ah well, here goes nothing.

  “Kfial. Three-hundred-and-twenty-nine years, thirty-six days ago.”

  Dar’s eyes widened. “Three . . . never mind. Okay, who was he, and what made him a suitable partner. Because there had to be something suitable about the whole arrangement. I can’t see you having a sweaty fuck in the equivalent of a dark alley in Aaru.”

  An image of sex in a dark alley flashed through Asta’s mind, but it wasn’t Kfial pressed against her. What was that about? Was there something in this drink that was making her have very improper thoughts about the demon sitting across from her?

  “He’s a virtuous angel, one of Uriel’s choir. He expressed flattering interest, and so . . . things led to things.” It had been flattering, and their encounter . . . nice. She’d been relieved when he hadn’t seemed interested in continuing the relationship, though.

  Dar’s eyes grew dark. “Are you planning on resuming things once you return to Aaru?”

  Aaru. Full of nothingness, devoid of sensation, and definitely devoid of crazy demons. “No.”

  “Good. Does your no-sex rule apply to angel sex as well? I just don’t see the appeal, but I pride myself on being open-minded when it comes to new experiences. You could show me what’s so ‘satisfying’ about it.”

  Oh no, that was definitely forbidden. She could explain away her groping the other night under the excuse of trying to determine his level and status, but joining with a demon — the treaty was very clear on that.

  “No sex — human, angel, or otherwise.”

  Dar sighed, moving his knee to brush against hers and rest slightly between her legs. “So, your beautiful human form comes at what cost? There has to be a reason other angels stick to the blurry-statue look.”

  Asta leaned back, wrinkling her nose at his perceptive question and grateful for the change in topic. “It’s not ideal to imbed ourselves this far into the flesh. It increases our susceptibility to sin, and the sensations can be overwhelming. I’ve slowly worked my way to this level over the last century. Of course, as you’ve noticed, I am not as pure as other angels.”

  “Well, I find your skill at blending in admirable. Many demons would envy your ability to manifest such a convincing form.”

  Compliments? From a demon? Still, his appreciation of her ability trumped any praise he could have made about her taste in clothing, or footwear. Being the youngest of all the angels meant she was always lowest in ability, constantly finding herself lacking in comparison with every other angel in Aaru. Dar’s sincere comments struck a chord, filled an empty spot she’d been ignoring for millennia.

  “Your human form is very nice, too.” It was. Dark, shiny hair with steaks of silver drew her gaze. His gray eyes were intense and oddly honest as they stared at her.

  “I’m way too muscular. It’s downright shameful that I’ve let my figure get to this state. I used to have a nice paunch to go with my idle lifestyle, but I’ve been working too hard the past few years. Doesn’t matter which form I take, these stupid muscles won’t go away.”

  “I can’t see you as idle.” Asta scrutinized the detested muscles as best as she could through the neatly pressed shirt. “You’re too in-the-know. Idle demons wouldn’t be able to keep track of all the goings-on here or in Hel. I’m afraid you’ll have to learn to love the muscles, because I don’t see you being idle any time in the near future.”

  “Oh, Asta, you sure know how to smash a demon’s hopes and dreams, don’t you?” His voice sounded mournful, but there was laughter in his eyes. By the Creator, was she actually flirting with him? Clearly a century in this human form had warped her sense of right and wrong.

  The plastic box buzzed loudly, and Asta jumped.

  “Our table is ready.”

  Dar hopped off the bar stool, downing his drink in a gulp. Asta scooted to slide off her chair and felt the demon’s hands on her waist. With a smooth motion, he lifted her from the stool and plopped her down on her feet, steadying her for a moment before letting go and leading the way toward the hostess station.

  What was that? Compliments, and now chivalry?

  Demons lie. And they do anything within their power to lead others to sin. All this might be part of Dar’s efforts to get her to succumb to lust, but there wasn’t anything in Aaru that said she couldn’t enjoy the ride. Angels were strong, and she had withstood a lot of temptation in the last century. No two-bit demon was going to cause her to fall from grace. Still, it would be fun to let him lead her down the path, thinking he had her in the palm of his hand only to deny him at the last moment. And in spite of her nervousness and initial reluctance, she was having a great time with him this evening. Last week, if someone had told her she’d be having an enjoya
ble evening in the company of a demon, she would have scoffed.

  The hostess led them to a small table with a flickering red candle and a view of the street. Asta had barely sat down before a waiter offered her a choice of waters, while Dar looked over the wine list. Her eyes nearly left her head as he ordered.

  “Please tell me you have currency. I really don’t want to have to crawl out the bathroom window at the end of our meal.”

  The demon waved a dismissive hand. “Why are you worried? You can just arrange a big lottery win for the owners, and maybe another smaller one for the wait staff in lieu of a tip. We’re in an age of equality. I figured you’d be offering to pick up the tab as a show of your independence.”

  Asta caught her breath, frantically thinking of how she could make this right for the humans while plotting how best to torture the horrible demon.

  Dar burst into laughter. “You should see your face! By all that’s unholy, you looked shocked and ready to murder me at the same time. Don’t worry, honest Asta, I scored a sizable bribe this week and have more than enough cash to pay for our evening out.”

  Bribery. Well, she should have realized a demon wouldn’t be paying for anything with the sweat of his brow — if he paid for it at all.

  That bribe must have been substantial, because Dar ordered the best of everything. Asta had sampled more food in the last hour than she thought possible. Cheeses, heirloom tomatoes, a variety of meats, and a dessert sampler crossed their table. She and Dar had three different wines, finishing with a glass of port and one of the best coffees the angel had ever enjoyed. Now she understood the overheard conversations between women who’d found themselves succumbing to the advances of a man after an evening of good food and drink. Asta felt oddly content with her stomach full and her mind floating with the effects of the alcohol. Right now all she wanted was to curl up on a soft bed wrapped in her wings as she dozed in the moonlight.

  “Thank you,” she told Dar as he assisted her out the revolving door. “I know tonight was supposed to be my payment to you for your helping me, but somehow I think I benefited at both ends of our agreement.”

 

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