Lucien’s hand snaked up and curled around my neck, squeezing a little. My muscles vibrated as all my feras screeched in my head.
Bite! my wolf demanded.
Red leapt forward and latched onto Lucien’s ankle, snarling. Lucien’s eyes narrowed and he looked down. Could he feel her sharp little teeth digging in? I hoped so.
Cut it out, I told Red. He’s protecting me.
It still took every ounce of control not to punch him in the face.
Red released Lucien, and sat by my side. The little ball of ghost-orange fur leaned against my calf, and I shuffled to keep my balance while Lucien gripped my neck in a show of ownership. At least he didn’t plan to pee on me.
“This one,” Lucien shook my neck a little, “is not for sharing.”
My feras settled, and I relaxed my muscles. I’m not for biting, period.
Allan coughed into his sleeve, while Ian’s eyes sought mine, but I dodged whatever visual message Ian wanted to convey by looking at my shoes. Hah! Take that.
“A shame. Find me later, Lucien. We have much to discuss,” Ian said, and once Lucien nodded, Ian turned gracefully and slipped away with his lady friend into the vibrating crowd of mingling Vampires and humans. The low murmur of voices raised to a steady thrum, punctuated by clinking glass and barks of laughter.
“Mingle,” Lucien murmured, not looking at any of his entourage in particular, but we all heard him, snapping to attention and careening forward to catch his next words. “Disperse.”
Everyone scattered like a herd of students after a stink bomb, but when I attempted to step away, Lucien’s cold fingers dug into my neck. My gaze flicked to his.
“Stay close,” Lucien said before releasing me.
I rubbed the back of my neck, still tingling from the Vampire’s contact. His words might be for my protection, but I needed a way out of this bond, fast. “As you wish.”
Lucien smirked and lifted his chin at Clint. The human servant hadn’t gone far, and he sauntered up to his master, gaze raking my body before his full attention turned to Lucien. Whatever drama they concocted, they wanted it private. Bending their heads close together, they spoke in hushed tones, too quiet for even my Shifter hearing to pick up in the steady chatter that filled the room.
Whatever. I needed a drink. Unease churned in my stomach.
You should heed the Vampire’s words. This is not a place to be alone, Red warned. When she discovered I’d named her after a colour, she pitched a fit and refused to speak to me for a few days. Her fault. She should’ve given me a name. Besides, Red was better than Fire Crotch.
When I didn’t respond, Red nipped my ankle. What was with feras and ankle biting? I kept my eyes forward and scanned the room to find the bar, trying to ignore the fox circling my feet. Since no one else could see her, it would appear odd if I kept looking down.
I know. I know. I’ll be careful, I told her. Besides, Wick’s following me. He stayed a few steps behind me, but his presence raised my body temperature to an unhealthy level, and warmth thrummed through my veins.
Red snorted and trotted ahead of me, weaving through the throng of Vampires.
“Mmmm. Little Carus. I hoped you’d be here.” A voice that could only be described as verbal rough sex broke through my thoughts and set my teeth on edge. My body tensed, but I didn’t need to turn around to discover who stood behind me.
Sid the Seducer.
Chapter Two
“War does not determine who is right, only who is left.”
~Bertrand Russell
This whole evening sprouted one nasty surprise after the other. I turned to find a naked Demon appraising me from a not-so-safe distance. With dark brows framing dark eyes, ink-black hair and olive skin, seven feet of sexual energy bore down on me. His almond scent curled around my body, alluring and seductive, enticing me to take one step closer, and then another. Fucking Demons. “Sid.”
How do you know this creature? Wick demanded, stepping up to stand beside me on the Italian slab tiles.
I’d used this Demon for information on my last case, and had no desire to tell Wick about the deal I’d made with Sid the Seducer. Even now, his energy tried to coil around me. I had no interest in this vile creature whatsoever, and despite his powerful sex mojo, his interest in me only extended to his next meal, much like the Vampires.
“Have you forgotten our time together so soon?” Sid’s eyelids drooped into half slits. “I think about it often. Keeps me warm on cold nights in hell.”
My wolf growled.
See what his insides look like. My mountain lion pawed the inside of my skull.
Great. My inner kitty wanted to learn Demon anatomy.
What the heck did Sid mean with his cold night reference, anyway? The underworld wasn’t cold. Before I could tell the Demon where to stick his nether bits, Wick straightened his shoulders, and inserted himself between Sid and me. Sweet. But unnecessary.
Red stepped forward and growled at Sid. Also sweet. And also extremely unnecessary.
The Demon held his hands up. “Fine, fine. But you might want to play nice.”
“And what makes you think I play nice?” I asked. My skin prickled as the urge to shift rippled through my body.
“Oh, I don’t think you play nice. I know,” Sid purred. “Besides, you can’t afford to piss me off.”
My hands flew to my hips. “What the hell does that mean? Why are you so cryptic? And why are you here?”
“I’m not being cryptic. As Satan’s assistant, I’m here as the representative of the Demon Court, charged with providing information and returning with NAVA’s decision. And it means, dear Carus, I’ll see you later.” And then the Demon gave me his back. The nerve. The view from behind showed his chiseled muscles tapering down to a nicely corded ass. I wanted to plant the pointy end of my heel into his right butt cheek.
What’s he talking about? Wick asked, his voice heavy with a hot searing weight that shattered any calm resolve I had left.
Later, I shot back. I needed a drink. Sid the Seducer could get lost, but seeing him tonight brought reality crashing back. The early unease swirled in my stomach again. I hadn’t told Wick or Tristan about Sid’s payment.
Wick hesitated, and then his attention snapped to something behind me. Here comes Lucien.
Wick’s hand gently pressed on my lower back. Warmth radiated from his body through the thin material of my blouse. My wolf rumbled and nudged me to turn into the heat of Wick, to nuzzle his neck and press against his hard muscles.
Time to go, Wick whispered.
I nodded, swallowed and willed my body to move forward. We fell in line with Lucien and the rest of his entourage as the Master Vampire wandered around the room, nodding at people and exchanging the occasional dialogue.
I never did get a drink.
I would like to know what you are thinking about. I can hear the wheels turning from here, Wick said. His chocolate brown eyes sought mine.
Heat flared in my cheeks, and I looked away. Thoughts of another man surfaced in my mind, a man absent from tonight, a man who’d wrestled his way into my heart alongside Wick. With the Werewolf Alpha so close, how could I not contemplate my complicated love life? Like some pathetic female in a tragic love story, I wanted two men. The thought of the absent Wereleopard resurfaced, and images of Tristan flashed through my mind, dunking my libido into the gutter. I squeezed my thighs against the flow of blood travelling rapidly to my crotch.
I’d managed to keep my raging hormones fairly locked down on this trip. Had Sid and his sexual energy broken down my resolve?
“You’re giving me a headache,” Lucien hissed at me. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, and shook his head in little minute movements as if to clear his imaginary headache.
Dammit! I liked to forget the Master Vampire could sense my emotions through our bond. At least he couldn’t read my mind.
“But I can,” Allan said. The large Japanese Vampire reminde
d me of his special Vampire skill. “And you’re giving me a headache, too.”
Before I could open my mouth to say something I’m sure would be considered either extremely witty or completely childish, Clint stepped up from behind and leaned in over my shoulder to whisper in my ear. “You make me ache elsewhere.”
“Ugh!” I drove my elbow back into Clint’s hard abs.
The human servant grunted and took a step back. I glared at him without fully turning around, and he had the audacity to grin at me.
Like to tell me what is going on? Wick asked. He rubbed a large hand through his short blond hair.
Not a chance. It was impossible to tell him something I didn’t know myself. Nothing, I told him.
Wick looked unconvinced, but his mouth snapped shut when Lucien turned to face the group.
“I’m hungry,” the Master Vampire stated.
None of us moved. Apparently, he’d been plotting devious plans with his human servant this whole time, and not sipping on a snack.
Clint folded his arms, his lips compressed into a thin line. “Wick and Allan, follow Lucien. Andy, accompany me.”
Lucien spun on his heel and strolled toward the section of the mansion that provided private rooms for feeding—his pace leisurely, his shoulders relaxed. Allan followed close on his heels, but Wick hesitated, casting me a wary glance.
“Don’t worry, puppy,” Clint said. “I’ll keep her from meeting another Were to mate with in your absence.”
Wick snarled and stalked off, presumably to attend Lucien.
I crossed my arms and turned my best death stare on the human servant. My blood heated as it raced through my veins. Trust Clint The Jerk to bring up painful shit during an already tense situation. “Why are you such an asshole?”
“You ripped my throat out,” Clint said, ignoring the glances some of the surrounding Vampires and humans sent our way.
“You requested me as a sex slave for all eternity.”
The human servant shrugged. “The position’s still open.”
“Keep dreaming.”
Clint leaned in with a predatory gleam in his eyes. “I will have you.”
My falcon squawked and sent me images of pecking out fish eyes.
I snorted and looked away. Like acclimatizing to the smelly gym bag in the backseat of a car, I’d somehow become impervious to Clint’s perversions. It didn’t mean I liked them or him. It certainly didn’t mean I trusted him. But the fear I once held for the “Clint Threat” had evaporated over the last few months. Sometimes, I got the impression his lewd remarks were made with half-ass effort, like he merely acted to fulfill his role as resident douchebag. Whenever I relaxed though, he’d say something truly deplorable, and I’d go back to despising him.
We walked in silence to one of the mansion’s many bars, weaving around the groups of guests as they mingled. I wished Lucien’s meticulous planning hadn’t involved my attire. I had to shorten my stride to avoid ripping the material of my skirt. The high heels pinched my toes, but at least they weren’t the four-inch hooker pumps with straps Lucien had bought me. Wick had tried to make me feel better by suggesting the skirt might be easier to shift in, but one look at my ass packed into the tight material and he’d stopped talking.
When we approached the bar, the bartender dropped his cleaning rag and hustled over to us. Before he could open his mouth, Clint held a fifty dollar bill out. “Glenfiddich, neat.” His gaze flicked to me, and I nodded. “Make two.” He placed the bill on the counter and pushed it toward the bartender with one finger. The bartender didn’t touch it until the drinks were in our hands.
Turning back to the crowded room behind us, Clint took a long sip from the single malt whiskey before letting out a long breath. “So what’s the deal with you, Wick and the Wereleopard king?”
My lip curled up in a snarl. He meant Tristan. Not sure how to answer, and pretty sure I didn’t want to say anything nice, I took a sip of my drink instead. I hated that Clint and I shared a love for good whiskey. I preferred mine on ice, though. Enthusiasts everywhere would cringe at this confession—whiskey should be served at room temperature, and maybe, if anything, with a little water added to numb the punch of alcohol and let the whiskey flavour come through—but this knowledge didn’t take the truth away. Regardless of quality, I liked whiskey chilled.
“Are you fucking them both?” Clint asked.
“None of your business,” I said.
“I disagree, Andrea. You belong to Lucien, Wick belongs to Lucien, and Tristan is a powerful leader living within Lucien’s domain, and should belong to Lucien. It is precisely our business.”
I slammed back the rest of my drink, letting the amber liquid slide down my throat and burn. Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on the warmth heating my stomach, and thumped my empty glass on the counter. Tristan had just escaped the service of another Master Vampire, one I had a hand in killing. He deserved to be free, not shackled to Lucien. “I’m not fucking anyone.”
“No wonder you’re so bitchy.”
My eyes pinged open. Clint wore a smarmy, half smile that I wanted to slash off his face. He ignored my death stare and casually checked his watch.
Bite him, Red urged.
I think he’d take that as encouragement, I replied. Still, punching him in the kidneys would make me feel better.
Several pale women, and a few men, staggered from the private rooms with fang marks on their necks, wrists and thighs. They wore minimal clothing and house servants waited with fluffy white robes to cover them up and escort them somewhere else.
“It’s time,” Clint said, and held out his arm. I ignored it and stalked back to the group who’d already made their way to the oversized boardroom. Lucien stood by his chair, cheeks unnaturally flushed and eyes half lidded.
I quickly surveyed Wick for marks, but his skin appeared flawless as ever. He could’ve healed the bite marks by now, but knowing Lucien’s preferences, he probably sucked back a curvy blonde.
“You have something…” I pointed to the corner of Lucien’s lip. When he wiped at it with his thousand dollar suit sleeve, I bit back a triumphant smile. There hadn’t been any blood there. The other bloodsuckers flowed in, and Lucien took his seat at the same time as if they were all synchronized swimmers.
Guards, including myself, moved to protect their masters’ backs. We formed a rectangular ring around the enormous boardroom table. Where’d they find this piece of furniture? And how’d they get it into the room?
I nodded at the other guards sandwiching us in. The two female Vampires returned the gesture, but no other expression crossed their faces, either to reflect my own insignificance or because they were incapable of moving the muscles in their faces—like any Hollywood actress over forty who experimented with Botox.
Well, holding hands and singing “Kumbaya” must be out then.
Mentally shrugging, I tried to focus on the Vampires in front of me without nodding off. Finally, the time had come for them to vote on their relationship with the big bad Demons from the nether realm.
After everyone settled, a rotund man with a red sash across his black suit thumped the floor with a long golden staff to get everyone’s attention. He smelled funny, like dandelions and celery.
Bite, my wolf demanded.
My mountain lion hissed. See what his flesh tastes like.
I ignored both of them, but when the announcer took his place by the entrance to the board room and another waft hit my face, I reconsidered. Maybe I should take a chunk out. My skin itched, and my mountain lion pawed at my brain to shift. Unease skittered across my arms and legs.
Many gazes flicked in our direction as we waited for Ian to take his place and commence with the vote.
What the hell were they looking at?
Ian strode in and deposited his intimidating female companion at the table. The host of events waited for the lingering conversations to hush before projecting his voice to carry over the table. “Fellow esteemed members o
f NAVA—”
An enormous boom fractured Ian’s speech, followed by the thunderous sound of cracking wood. I staggered back a step as the ground moved beneath my feet. Something large and dark rose out of the floor, splintering the broad, solid oak table in front of the Vampires in two. Collective gasps rebounded off the walls, and the room flooded with the scent of something cruel and demonic. A roar vibrated the air, sucking it out of my lungs and jostling it back again before I could inhale.
A Demon with the head of a feral dog, and the body of a nine-foot professional weight lifter, stretched his insanely large black feathered wings out and landed in the centre of the Vampires with one foot on each half of the table, straddling the hole he emerged from. An absurdly large penis dangled between his legs. He rested his hands on his hips, and his eyes scanned the room.
The brutal scent of steel and blood seeped from his every pore, replacing the normal demonic almond scent. His canine jaws gaped open, showing fangs dripping with thick saliva. His breath reeked of grass, but not the nice summer kind; the kind that had gone bad and stagnant for weeks. The scent, oddly tinged with the pungent odour of money, meant one thing—cruelty. For once, my feras remained silent, no demands for attack. They wanted to flee. So did I. The flight response so strong, I had to will my feet to remain planted. Sweat trickled down the curve of my back. My nails dug into the palm of my hand. I will not run. I am not prey.
I needed to protect Lucien.
The Demon turned his head in my direction, and our eyes locked. Dead and black, with no discernible pupil or iris, his gaze revealed no living soul lurked within. Instead, raw, unbound malice glared back at me.
And then he smiled.
Chapter Three
“Do not take life too seriously. You will never get out of it alive.”
~Elbert Hubbard
My clothes constricted against my skin as my body began to expand and started to shift. The response, instinctual. Without breaking the dark hypnotic gaze of the Demon, I kicked off my heels, thankful I’d refused to wear the strappy contraptions Lucien originally suggested. The synthetic material chafed against my skin. I moved my hand slowly to the neckline of my top, ready to rip it away to make the transition easier.
Carpe Demon (Carus #3) Page 2
