Then, as quickly as he’d made a move, his mouth left hers. She felt the loss, her insides a mess of hot liquid as she dragged in a breath.
I’m not going to have sex with you. Asta opened her mouth to voice the words running through her head like a worn-out mantra.
“I know, I know.” Dar’s breath was soft against her face. “You’re not going to have sex with me. I get it. Doesn’t mean I can’t steal a quick kiss before you fly off into the night.”
There was no way to adequately reply to that. Asta moved her hands from his chest, running them up the demon’s arms to push him away. He was excessively muscled for a demon. She frowned, wondering what he’d been doing. Physical combat? Did demons do that in Hel? Or had Dar taken to more human methods of defense since his immunity restricted his ability to use lethal force.
Drat. Her thoughts had halted her hands against the demon, and with an involuntary action, her fingers curled around his shoulders, pulling him close. A thousand reasons why she shouldn’t do this chased across her mind, followed by a thousand reasons why she should. Millions of years of distrust fell by the wayside, overcome by burning need, by the glorious feel of his warmth against hers.
Once more he was kissing her, but this time she mirrored his actions, opening her mouth, and so much more, to let him in. His spirit-being swirled against hers, as intoxicating as the mouth that now trailed a series of feathery kisses down her neck. Molding herself to his hard length, she skated her hands around his waist and down his back, diving up under the jacket to frantically pull his shirt from the waistband. Skin. She needed to feel his skin against her hands as intimate as his spirit was against her own.
His arms tightened around her, pulling her from the brick wall. One hand drifted to cup her rear end, gathering her skirt up to give him access to her naked flesh. Leaving her neck, his mouth moved upward, kissing her with fierce passion that curled her bare toes against the pavement.
Fire shot through her as he explored her mouth with greedy hunger. Asta felt herself swept away, everything vanishing except for a lightning whirlwind of passion. His hands, his mouth, his tongue — she loved the taste of him, the feel of his body against hers. When he pulled his mouth from hers, she shook with need, a rhythmic ache deep inside her body.
“No.” It was all she could manage.
She meant that she didn’t want him to stop kissing her, to stop his hands from exploring her body, but he misunderstood and stepped back. The evening was warm, but the sudden loss of his body against hers made her shiver.
“Are you sure? I know you said no sex, but maybe you’d reconsider?” His eyes blazed down into hers, his voice a sexy rasp. “You can easily kick my ass, so you don’t have to worry about me doing anything non-consensual. We can see where this goes. You set all the limits; you make all the rules.” Then he dipped his head so his mouth found the hollow where her neck and shoulder joined. Asta arched her back.
“Tub.” It was hard to get that one word out, let alone the rest. “It’s big enough that I can reveal my wings. And . . . yes, I might reconsider.”
Who was she fooling? She was ready to rip off her dress and do him right here in a dark alley.
Dar shuddered against her, his breath catching. “Will there be room for me in that tub, with you and your wings?”
Oh, this was glorious. All the surface nerve endings of her skin were firing like Independence Day pyrotechnics, and the whole time, his spirit-being was pressed to hers with almost unbearable intimacy. That time she’d joined with Kfial had never felt quite so right as this did.
“I’ll make room.”
His hands tightened, one gripping her waist and the other curling against her ass with almost painful strength. Once again, his mouth dropped to hers, leaving all to soon to taste a line down her neck. He bent his head further, and she raised on her toes, feeling his mouth slide down her chest and across the tops of her breasts. This was better than meditation, better than espresso, or double chocolate cake, or those red Prada sandals she’d scored last week. This was better than flying.
This was insanity. One week. Less than one week and she could wash all this sin clean. The thought was depressing.
Then Dar pulled away, running a hand through his hair. “I. . . before we. . . I need to tell you something.”
Huh? No, he didn’t. She reached for him, but he grabbed her hands in his. “Our date is technically over, so I need to tell you something before we get carried away.”
Chapter 10
Even though his voice still held that husky, desperate sound, it seemed oddly businesslike. What could he possibly need to tell her right now when she was on fire for him?
“Our deal was a night of dinner and fun in exchange for information. Naked tub action isn’t part of that. Before we . . . well, I need to give you the information. Then if things continue, it’s just us. I want whatever happens to be just us, not mistaken as part of our contract.”
Asta looked into the silvery gray of his eyes and nodded. Whatever this information was, she had a feeling the magic of the moment wouldn’t be recaptured.
“We’re not chasing a sorcerer summoning a demon. We’re after a genie in a bottle.”
What in all of creation was he talking about? “Like that old sitcom with Barbara Eden?”
“Not really. I don’t know who the trapped demon is, but I doubt he’s that attractive. What I do know is that he’s going to be pissed as all fuck. Getting summoned is bad enough, but being stuck in a bottle for hundreds of years wouldn’t do much for anyone’s temper, let alone a demon.”
Asta stepped back, pressing herself against the wall, all thoughts of soaking her wings in a tub vanishing. “Why would someone put a demon in a bottle? I thought the idea was to summon one, get him or her to do something for you, then banish them back to Hel. What’s with the bottle?”
“Think of it as a savings account. Summon a demon, put a series of parameters around his release as usual, and then put him somewhere safe for later, when you’re ready for him to do his thing.”
“Why not just banish him with a contract for future service?”
Dar nodded approvingly, stepping forward to put his hands on her waist. “You’re thinking like an angel. I like that, but humans aren’t angels. Most don’t have the skills to protect themselves from us. They want us to do things for them but are pretty scared of us. Keeping us safe in a bottle no doubt sounded like a good idea. Of course, it just pisses us off even more.”
“So why is this guy still in the bottle? Humans don’t live for hundreds of years. Why didn’t the original sorcerer collect his service and send him back?”
Dar shrugged. “Humans die unexpectedly. A bottle would be passed down for generations, or most likely sold off by a frightened relative. Genies become a sort of hot-potato, handed off to different owners, all of whom are too frightened to activate the contract.”
This was beyond stupid. “Okay, so the fading in and out of demon energy we’ve been sensing is this genie. Let’s get the bottle, smash it, and send him back to Hel through the closest gate.”
“Not gonna work.” Dar shook his head. “The bottle won’t break, and the genie can’t be released until he performs his service.”
“Any idea what this service might be?”
Dar grinned, his teeth looking dangerously sharp in the moonlight. “I don’t know in this particular instance, but traditionally it’s always three wishes.”
What a scenario. They could find a human with a minimal amount of self-preservation instincts and convince him to wish the genie out of the bottle while they stood at the ready. Or they could just let the thing stay where he was, hoping if some human was foolish enough to set him free, an angel could get there in time. Hundreds of years in a bottle. The genie could spend hundreds more in there before being released. Asta would be long gone, back in Aaru, and this genie would be someone else’s responsibility.
Temptation gnawed at her. This genie was powerless right no
w. She could continue her days of fun and just let the next enforcer deal with it. The idea had appeal, but she thought about Gabriel’s disapproval, of the hundreds of humans who might be killed before the genie was stopped. No, she had to do something now, before she left.
“Can you tell if he’s in the process of being released or not?”
“Nope.”
Asta frowned, tapping her lip with a fingernail as she thought. “The bottle can’t have been in Chicago for long or I would have sensed it before now. Who has it? And are they aware of what’s in it?”
Dar gave her an odd look. “It’s in Carter Phelps’s hotel room. You know, the human who gets all doe-eyed whenever you’re near? The one who seems oddly convinced you’re a survivor of a conflict in Rwanda? He’s got a little display on top of the dresser in his bedroom — a bunch of different objects. It’s a fucking shrine, although why playing cards and other crap are worth lugging to a convention, I’ll never know.”
Carter. Her heart lurched as she remembered the man discussing his childhood. The shrine of objects must have something to do with his grandmother. If so, he might not even know what the bottle held. She couldn’t just leave the genie with him and risk that he might inadvertently free it. People wished for things all the time. The wording of the original contract may leave room for an accidental release of the genie.
“I’ll talk to him. I’ll see if he’ll give it to me.”
Dar snorted. “Did you not hear me say it was part of a shrine? Unless your compulsion or entrancement abilities have magically increased a hundred-fold overnight, you’re not going to sweet-talk him into giving it to you. He might want to get in your pants, but there are limits to what horny humans will do.
“Besides, what the fuck are you going to do with it? You can’t break the bottle or release the genie. Are you going to just hide it away and guard it until the end of time?”
Asta winced. A demon summoned into this realm through no fault of his own, trapped in a bottle for all eternity . . . yes, she needed to protect mankind, but what about this demon’s rights?
And when did she start thinking that demons had rights?
“Asta, just let it go,” Dar said softly, his hands still warm against her sides. “This will all play out eventually as fate decrees. Some idiot human will release the genie or not. In the meantime, it’s just a pretty bottle.”
Having her earlier thoughts voiced made her realize again how much they had in common, even with almost three-million years of conflict.
“I can’t. What if Carter releases it by accident and it kills him? What if it’s an ancient or massively powerful demon, and he manages to destabilize half the planet before we catch him. The world could be wracked in plague, famine, or war, and it would be my fault for turning my back on my duty.”
Dar sighed and ran a hand through his hair, causing strands to stick out at odd spots on his head. The effect was strangely endearing. “The only thing we can do then is try and find a human who can safely release the genie while we stand by to kill him before he goes on a rampage.”
Why did he care? He’d helped her find the demon as agreed, and she’d had a date with him. Why was he acting like this was their problem instead of just her problem.
“I don’t want to ask a human to take that risk.” And part of her felt guilty about executing a demon who hadn’t voluntarily violated the terms of the treaty. Maybe they could give him an ultimatum — immediately return to Hel or die. The thought of proposing such a choice to an enraged genie released after centuries of captivity was ludicrous.
Dar threw his hands outward. “Asta, humans have been taking that risk since they first walked upright. One of them took a huge risk in summoning this guy and trapping him. The only way this is going to be resolved is if a human releases the genie and banishes him back to Hel. We need a sorcerer.”
She was just as frustrated. “Oh, wow, why didn’t I think of that? Let me just run down a few blocks and ask the neighborhood sorcerer to come give us a hand. It’s a lost art, Dar. Magic in today’s world is for children’s parties and charlatans.”
Dar crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Got a better idea?”
No, she didn’t. Asta blew a loose strand of hair away from her face. “So the genie completes his service by granting three carefully worded wishes; the sorcerer, assuming we can even find one, immediately banishes him back to Hel, and all is right in the world.”
It was a good solution — the genie would be released and sent to his infernal home before any damage could be done. The only issue was the appalling lack of skilled sorcerers or mages. Demons were masters at debate and loopholes. Any issue with the wishes or a mispronunciation or badly drawn rune at the banishment and it could all go horribly wrong.
What a moral dilemma. She didn’t like the thought of executing a demon for being unwillingly summoned and commanded to serve a human, but she could hardly let one blow up half of Chicago. “It’s going to take us a while to find a magic user that we can trust not to botch this. I’m going to ask Carter for the bottle for safekeeping until we locate an appropriate mage.”
Dar rolled his eyes “That’s not going to work. If you’re insistent on getting the bottle, then nab Carter Phelps, drag him into a back alley, and punch him until he gives it to you. Or break into his hotel room, blow past all the security and steal it. What’s he going to do, call the police? You’ve gotten away with shoplifting dresses for this long; a bottle shouldn’t be beyond your skills.”
His dig about her less savory sins stung, and Asta began to wonder where the Dar she’d seen in Stanley’s pub had gone. Had she really kissed him? Been ready to have intimate relations with him in a tub?
“I’m not going to beat him up or steal one of his most valued possessions. I’ll talk to him, explain the situation. He’s a good man; he’ll give me the bottle.”
“Riiiiight. You’re an angel, and I’m a demon, and his grandmother’s knick-knack that he worships at twice a day contains an angry and violent genie. He’s going to think you’ve snapped from the trauma of your childhood in Rwanda and call in the guys in white jackets to take you away.”
“I’ll convince him.” That tremor in her voice didn’t sound very confidence inspiring. “He’ll hand over the bottle, and then we just have to find someone skilled enough to safely release the genie. It might take a few decades, but I think eventually we’ll find someone.” What was this ‘we’? She was going to be gone in a few days, handing this over to some other angel.
She didn’t want to hand this over to another angel. She didn’t want another angel in her town, and she certainly didn’t want another angel working with Dar — or doing other things with Dar.
The demon raised his eyebrows. “Okay. You’re the boss.”
Asta sighed and smoothed back her hair, thankful he finally seemed to be going along with her plan. Now she just had to try and convince Carter to give her the bottle and find a decent mage somewhere on this planet. Work. Once more, work was ruining what had turned into one of the best evenings of her life.
“I had a wonderful time tonight, and I really appreciate your efforts to get me this information. But . . . umm, I won’t be able to join you in the tub, or . . . you know.”
For the sake of Creation, she sounded like a blushing teenager.
The demon nodded, his expression inscrutable. “Figured. Maybe next time.”
“Yeah.” Asta felt her heart sink. They both knew that next time would never come. “Yeah. Next time.”
Chapter 11
The croissant broke into a buttery shower as she bit into it, the center a sweet mixture of chocolate and almond paste.
“Tell me more about your village leader — the one who raised you. I’m assuming he’s still alive, and you’ll get to see him when you go back to Rwanda.”
The pastry turned to dust in her mouth. More lies she’d need to concoct, and the whole time she was struggling with how to get this man to give up an item
so precious that he’d carried it to a convention and displayed it in his bedroom.
“Gabriel is . . . strict about rules and the letter of the law. Everyone sees him as this unbending, authoritarian, but he can be amazingly kind and patient. I don’t ever thing I’ve seen him laugh, though.” Asta shook her head, comparing the angel with Dar. “He’s more blunt than the other ang – village leaders. You always know how he feels about you or your actions.”
It was easy to know when Gabriel was proud or disappointed in her, unlike the head of the Grigori — her current boss. That angel was scary, inscrutable. Sometimes she thought she was doing right, only to find herself facing his considerable anger. Other times, she was sure she’d screwed up and been amazed to receive his praise. At least with Gabriel, she knew where she stood.
“What was your grandmother like?”
Carter looked down into his coffee cup. When he raised his eyes, they were dark with sadness. “Encouraging. I couldn’t . . . I don’t articulate my ideas well, unlike my father and mother. Everyone thought I was slow, or maybe handicapped in some way. Gran never thought that. She’d wait until I managed to get the words out, or help me find a way to express myself. She’s the only one who believed in me.”
“And look at you now.” Asta gestured to the man. “Owner of a successful company, a renowned expert in data security. She’d be proud to see what you’ve become.”
A shadow crossed the man’s face, and he looked back into his coffee cup. “I don’t know. I’ve done things she wouldn’t be proud of, taken some shortcuts.”
Haven’t we all. “The business world is often ruthless. Understandably, we sometimes lose our way. It’s what we do when we find we’ve strayed from the path that matters most.”
Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld Page 39
