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

by Christine Pope

  “I didn’t know,” Vaughn said. “I wouldn’t have—”

  I placed my finger over his lips, silencing him.

  He kissed my palm softly, then pulled me to him abruptly, holding me close.

  I barely noticed as the white witch and her companion stepped out of this world, leaving me and Vaughn alone. All I could focus on was the man who’d come for me when no one else could. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me,” I said, unable to go on before I knew the truth. “You took my magic and left.”

  Pain filled his dark eyes. “Not on purpose. I wouldn’t have ever left if I’d had a choice. The Brotherhood spelled me and took me from you. I had no idea that was going to happen. I didn’t know what I was. What I am. All I knew was that I wanted to be with you.” He scanned my face, peering at me, searching for something.

  I couldn’t give it to him. Not yet.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he continued. “By the time I was able to get away, you were already recovering with your family. I wanted to see you but thought I should wait until you were stronger. But then you were gone again. I fucked up. I should’ve come as soon as I was able. I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

  It was what Chessa had tried to tell me. And the fact that he was here now was all the proof I needed. He was an incubus. A man who, through no fault of his own, had taken my power and was here to give it back.

  I could live with that.

  “Kiss me,” I said.

  And then he did. His lips were soft, testing at first as he kissed the corner of my mouth. But I turned into him, pressing my lips to his. And as his tongue slipped over mine, magic sparked from him to me. My magic. The power I’d been harnessing before had belonged to the white witch. It had given me strength but at a price. A distorted reality. But now that I had a thread of my own, hers had vanished.

  I was me again. If not whole, then not broken either. With each caress, each kiss, my power grew. And as our desire heightened, so did my strength.

  The world around us vanished. I no longer saw the empty waterfront. Everything narrowed to just me and Vaughn and the heat between us. I wanted him. Needed what he had to give. “Make love to me,” I said.

  He pulled back and for the briefest moment, I saw a flicker of fear in his gaze.

  “You won’t hurt me.” I knew it deep in my gut. He was here to give, not take. I could feel it. “It’s the only way you’re going to be able to give me back enough power to let me cross.” My magic had been building, but I was still weak. And as a sex witch, I knew what I needed to get strong. He knew it too. I saw it in his eyes.

  After a few moments, he pulled me to him, resting his chin on the top of my head. “I’ll do anything you need.”

  “I know,” I said, believing he would.

  Epilogue

  Matisse

  In the end, Vaughn did make love to me on the shores of the Mississippi. He was gentle and attentive, giving me everything he had, never once taking pleasure for himself. Not even when I tried to give it to him. He insisted he was making love to me. Not the other way around. And while I felt odd about it, I knew he was making sure he took nothing from me, ensuring that I got my power back. And boy did I.

  By the time he finished, I was utterly satisfied in every way and brimming with more power than I’d known what to do with. Vaughn, on the other hand, looked a little pale. Still, with his new incubus powers, he had no trouble jumping with me back into our world.

  That was two weeks ago. I’d seen Vaughn numerous times, but only briefly when he stopped by to make sure I was still okay. I was. More than okay, actually. Tonight was the first night we’d actually made plans.

  He showed up at my door at eight o’clock sharp with a pitiful-looking bouquet of what appeared to have been sunflowers in another life.

  I laughed as I waved him in and eyed his Indian. “Umm, rough ride?”

  “You could say that.” He dipped his head and kissed me softly.

  Heat seared through me as it always did when I was near him. I tamped it down though. We were taking things slow. “Maybe flowers and motorcycles don’t mix.”

  He gave me a wounded look. “I still get points for trying, though, right?”

  “Absolutely.” I took the mangled stalks and deposited them in my kitchen. When I returned, I slipped an arm around his waist and tilted my head up. “So, what did you want to tell me?” When he’d called to ask if I was busy, he’d said he had news.

  He tugged me to sit down next to him on the couch and as he stroked my arm he asked, “How would you feel about having a boyfriend who works for the Brotherhood?”

  My brain couldn’t get past the word boyfriend. Was he serious?

  “Mati?” he asked after I bit my lip.

  “Yeah? Oh. The Brotherhood. You mean you want to be a demon hunter?”

  He sat back. “Not want. Am. I made it official today.”

  I tilted my head up, studying him. Shit. I’d read that all wrong. He wasn’t asking me if I was okay with him being a demon hunter. He was asking me to be his girlfriend.

  He grinned, waiting for my answer.

  Goddess. Girlfriend? Did I want that? Was I ready for that? I knew right away the answer was yes. “You know there’s going to be a constant power struggle, right?”

  His eyes sparked with molten desire as he lowered his lips to mine and whispered, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I shook my head, chuckling. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

  “Neither do you.”

  And then he kissed me, giving me just a taste of what was to come.

  Enjoy this story? Find more Jade Calhoun books by Deanna Chase at your favorite retailer.

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  Jinni’s Wish

  Marie Hall

  A long, long time ago there lived a man. A Jinni, who had one wish. To know love. But the woman he thought he knew betrayed him and the love he thought they shared. Tortured for his crimes, he was cast out of Kingdom, stripped of all his powers, left to langour in pain and solitude, until eventually he becomes nothing but a ghost...

  Paz Lopez is an artist with a dream. To buy a ridiculously large penthouse in the swankiest section of Chicago. But there's just one hitch, she has no man to share her dream with. A fateful visit to a carnival and Madam Pandora's tent sends Paz on a mission to find the love of her life before it's too late.

  But the Madam forgot to tell Paz one very important detail... to meet him, Paz will have to die first.

  Acknowledgments

  To my girls, you know who you are. I seriously could never get these things done without you constantly forcing me to sit down and write instead of playing another round of solitaire. Ya’ll are awesome and I heart you!

  This is to all the fans who write me and tell me how much they just love my books. Writing is such a solitary profession, to get a note is super rewarding. To my fans in Latvia (which is so freaking awesome, seriously), to my fans who bake the Mad Hatter cupcakes now because they sounded so yummy, to those who had to buy each book in a row because they were so hooked… I do this for you guys. Thanks!

  Chapter 1

  “What kind of name is that?” Paz Lopez hopped on one bare foot, while simultaneously gripping the cell phone with her chin as she attempted to slip on her blood red pump. She very nearly broke her neck in the process when she stumbled over the corner of her cream shag rug. “Dang it,” she hissed.

  She could already picture Richard rolling his eyes on the other end of the line. “Diabolique.”

  This time, she was the one to roll her eyes. Plopping down on the edge of her unmade bed, she did what her father used to always say: work smarter, not harder. So much easier to put shoes on when sitting, instead of hopping around like a broken jack in the box.

  “I heard you the first time. But that doesn’t sound like any kind of carnival I�
�d want to visit. Sounds creepy.”

  “Aww, come on, chicken. Todd and I are going and it’s sorta lame that all you ever want to do on a Friday night is vegg in front of that dinosaur you call a TV and down two point two glasses of vino.”

  Paz loved her brother, she really did. But ugh… she rubbed her nose, stomach churning with nerves and irritation. Now was so not the time to be talking about carnivals, or whatever the hell this Diabolique place was. She had an art show in an hour, today was her make it or break it day. It’d taken months for the hottest gallery in town: Moderne, to agree to even potentially host an exhibit for her.

  Of course they hadn’t. She was too new. But she had a friend, who knew a friend, who knew a guy who had an exhibit scheduled and was in need of ten more paintings to fill the space. Fast forward several boxes of tissues, lots of chocolate, and probably two (okay three) bottles of champagne later, Paz was here. Ready to break out. To become a name. Finally.

  If only her stupid nerves would settle down and stop making her feel like she was totally going to puke all over her pearl gray goose down comforter. Pinching her nose, she counted slowly to ten. She only got to three before Richard starting acting obnoxious as usual.

  “I know you’re there. I hear you breathing.” He proceeded to pantomime harsh deep breaths. “Answer me, or I will stalk you. I know where you liiiiveee.”

  Giggling, she yanked her purple head pillow off the bed and shoved it against her stomach. Maybe pressure would ease the knee-knocking nerves. “You’re really annoying.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, well Todd loves it. So tell me you’re coming.”

  Paz shoved about a week’s worth of bras underneath her bed and lifted the teal shirt off the lampshade she’d tossed carelessly aside last night. Jeez, she was really a slob. Maybe when she got filthy stinking rich she could afford a maid.

  “Are you coming to my show?” She plucked at her bejeweled skirt. Her first and only attempt at making clothes. Skirts were supposedly so easy to make.

  Lie.

  She’d had to undo the stitching four times before she felt certain she wouldn’t zip it up and have a wardrobe malfunction. Namely having the stupid thing fall down around her ankles when she stepped off her elevator into the lobby of her swank Chicago digs.

  Though swank was sorta stretching it. She wasn’t sure the five hundred square foot broom closet she currently called home could ever be considered swank, but she had a great address in the hippest part of town and with any luck, she’d be moving to that penthouse suite after tonight.

  “We wouldn’t miss it.” His voice was warm, reassuring, and Paz couldn’t help but smile. She loved her brother. “But Todd told me to ask you now, because we both know how you get when you’re talking about your art.”

  “No I don’t.” She tossed the pillow away, fiddling with the large cream flower on her black cable knit sweater.

  “Pfft. I didn’t even have to tell you how you act and you’re already defending it. So answer, sis. I’m not getting any younger.”

  “Fine.” She stood, grabbing her purse and wallet off her green distressed thrift store nightstand. “I’ll go butt face. But I won’t promise to like it, so there.”

  “You don’t have to like it, but you do have to visit Madam Pandora’s tent with me. Bye!”

  “What?” Her brows dipped, but all she heard was the buzz of an empty line.

  Rolling her eyes, she patted her flat blunt bangs and took a deep breath, ready to face her future. Her stomach nosedived. Well, unless she had to puke first.

  The Chicago fairgrounds were magical at night. Neon lights lit up the park like a firework’s display. Crowds clamored from one red and white pinstriped tent to the next. The buttery scent of popcorn wafted in the air, tickling her nose.

  “Mmm, I’m hungry,” Paz groaned when her stomach growled.

  Todd’s expressive light brown eyes twinkled merrily as he hugged her against his broad chest. A good foot taller than her, with chestnut brown hair, and tanned good looks. Gorgeous and so her type, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was totally off the market.

  “On me then,” he said, voice light and carefree. “A treat for my favorite artist…”

  Richard gripped Todd’s waist, dark brown eyes glowing merrily, rich mocha skin gleaming shades of bronze beneath the neon glow of the Ferris Wheel. Perpetual black cowlick shading the corner of his left eye. “The only artist you know,” he finished, digging into Todd’s chest.

  Todd clamped onto Richard’s hand and kissed the knuckle. A look passing between them made Paz’s knees turn to jelly. What would it feel like to have someone look at her that way? Not that she was old, only twenty-seven, but still, old enough to crave what she’d never known.

  There’d been passion, maybe some toe-curling moments with past boyfriends, but nothing that had ever stuck beyond month six. Maybe she was cursed.

  But she’d sold all ten of her paintings. She smiled, biting her bottom lip… well on her way toward that maid she’d always dreamed of. So maybe not that cursed.

  “Okay, I’m so gonna barf if you guys keep looking at each other like that.”

  Todd smirked, patting her head like she was a dog.

  So not cool.

  She gave him the evil eye. “Not a dog, Todd. Go get me my popcorn,” she clapped her hands, “and make it a large. With butter. Momma’s got a serious hankering from some greasy fat tonight.”

  Todd saluted and winked. “Anything for you, baby?”

  Richard shrugged. “Trying to watch my carbs. Whatever you have I’ll share.” Then he sighed, a silly mopey I’m-so-incredibly-happy kind of sound and again Paz couldn’t help feeling like the third wheel.

  “I love him,” Richard whispered, quietly, like he wasn’t even really saying it to her.

  She nodded, tucking his cowlick back. “I know. Aren’t you sure you wouldn’t rather me, yanno, be home and stuff tonight? I mean, this is your one year anniversary. Why in the world would you want me here? Shouldn’t you be bow-chica-wow…”

  Richard tugged on the end of her thick black hair.

  “Hey, ouch!” Paz slapped his hand away.

  “You’re disgusting. And no. He loves you as much as I do. Besides, Madam Pandora’s awaits.”

  A cool rush brushed against Paz’s legs. She was wearing thick stockings, and had traded in the killer pumps for a more ankle friendly pair of sparkling black flats, but she probably should have grabbed a thicker jacket.

  Even with the sweater underneath, she was starting to shiver.

  She grumped. “Why do you want me to go there so bad? What is it anyway?”

  Glancing around, Paz frowned. The carnival was definitely as creepy as she’d expected it to be from the sound of the name. Diabolique made her think of the devil. Coming from a strict Catholic upbringing, anything to do with Mr. Red, Bad, and Evil still made her skin get the creepy crawlies.

  Not to mention the carnival was just strange looking. Aside from the garish striped tents, and neon lights, the rides were all black. Thick, dark black. Blending into shadow if not for the lights affixed to the rides.

  At first she’d had a mini heart attack when they’d bought their tickets, thinking maybe this night wouldn’t suck so hard after all. The man selling them behind the booth had been hot. No scratch that, he was way hotter than hot. Which sounded really lame, but how else could she describe the panty melting smile of his straight white teeth. The artfully arranged blond surfer hair, like liquid gold the way it’d gleamed beneath the light. And his face, oh man… she couldn’t paint something so pretty. High cheekbones and hard square jaw, dimples when he’d grinned.

  But then she’d looked at his eyes-- glowing green eyes-- and something inside her had shrunk away from letting him make contact when he’d handed her the change. She’d been pretty sure those hadn’t been contacts.

  And what was even weirder about this carnival was that everyone one looked just like him. Well, not just like him. But everyone
working here was hot. Uber, smokin’, I’d sell my firstborn to have wild monkey sex with you kind of hot. And they all had strange glowing eyes.

  Which seemed to faze Todd and her brother not at all.

  “Hello!” Richard snapped his fingers, making her jerk. “Did you hear a word I said?”

  She grimaced. “Umm…”

  He gripped his forehead. “That’s a no. I said,” he stressed the ‘d’, “that I want you to go because Brody and Luke came here last night and they said they got their fortunes told and it came true.”

  Paz snorted. “Oh my gosh, that’s ridiculous. You do know that’s stupid, right? They’re all quacks out here.”

  He looked hurt, and then annoyed. Richard shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “You’re coming and I don’t want to hear boo about it.”

  “Boo about what?” Todd planted a peck on Richard’s cheek.

  The effect was instantaneous. Richard smiled, leaning back into Todd’s large chest.

  “Mmm, popcorn.” Paz reached with greedy fingers for the steaming brown paper sack Todd handed her. “Yummy, yummy, yummy. Love,” she plopped a warm, buttery kernel in her mouth and groaned, “love, love, popcorn.”

  Richard grabbed one out of her bag and tossed it at her nose. She swatted at it.

  “And you say I’m weird. At least I’ve never written an ode to my food before.”

  She stuck out her tongue.

  “So are we going?” Todd asked, taking a bite out of his fried Twinkie.

  White cream oozed out the side and Richard moaned. “Fried Twinkie, Todd? Cruel.”