by Tiffany Dawn
What was he supposed to say? Newly stirred lust had him hard and befuddled. The silent scrutiny lasted only seconds but felt like millennia had passed. He was lost in her soft blue eyes. Finally, his ability to speak came back to him, and he uttered the first thing that came into his head.
Her mouth dropped open a couple of times before she stuttered out a quick “sorry” and scurried away with her products.
Chapter 4
Shari couldn’t stop gazing up into the dark eyes of the stranger. The deep gray color had her mesmerized. His crisp white shirt, dark gray suit, and silver-and-blue tie marked him as one of the communities more well-to-do members. He was probably a lawyer or something. He had that cool, calm look and not a wrinkle marred his perfect clothes. His brown hair was almost too styled except for one stray lock that fell across his forehead like a naughty duckling out of line. His face was beautiful, just the tiniest hint of end of the day stubble on his jawline. Shari was sure she’d only once ever seen a man so impressive—and that man didn’t know she existed as a woman. But this guy, he must’ve been over six feet with the shoulders of a football player, but the grace of his movements put her in mind of an Olympic swimmer. He grabbed the package of kitten milk replacer that had been just out of her reach. Her face grew a bit warm as she realized she’d been staring at him and not saying anything, her hand just brushing his sleeve. Finally he moved, and her arms followed, mirroring his movements down. At last, he cleared his throat and spoke, his voice low and gravely, “You smell.”
Shari’s face went from warm to volcanically hot in a millisecond. She snatched the box of kitten milk replacer and tossed it in to her small basket stammering out a quick, “I’m sorry.” Shari walked away, trying to discreetly sniff at her scrub top and wondering if she had gotten something on her from earlier that day. Things could get messy working as a veterinary assistant.
She reached the ten items or less checkout line and tossed her stuff onto the conveyor belt. One of the older cashiers was working tonight and in her no-nonsense way had her stuff scanned and totaled faster than she could pull out some bills from her wallet. She glanced back into the main part of the store still mortified over her encounter with Mr. Beautifully Rude. The cashier thanked her and handed her a receipt. By the time she reached her car in the back of the lot, she decided that Mr. Beautifully Rude was probably just really sensitive to any kind of pet dander and she didn’t have some horrific hygiene issue going on. She secured her groceries and the bag containing the now sleeping rescue kitten in the car and set off for homey cottage.
* * * *
Once home, Shari tossed a package of Lean Cuisine pasta into the microwave and hit the buttons. She retrieved her purchases from her canvas bag and offered the baby the kitten milk replacer in a small nursing bottle. The kitten greedily sucked on the bottle, its still-blue eyes gazing up, less wary now that food was on the way. “Poor little baby, you’re really hungry. There you go, take some more,” Shari cooed to the cream fur ball. “I’m going to find you a really special home. You look like you might even be part Siamese. She grabbed an old washcloth from her drawer and gently wiped the kitten’s face. She brought her into an efficient half bath and plopped her into the litter box. “This is your spot for doing what you need to do.” She pulled the towel from under the vanity, fluffing it up, and laid it in the other corner on the floor, making a quick bed for her new houseguest. She already had an old blind cat named Rocky that someone had dumped on the clinic doorstep years ago, but he was pretty mellow about the animals she would foster, even the orphaned squirrel she was rehabbing. Rocky was probably sleeping at the end of her bed right now. When he turned up, she would carefully introduce him to his new, hopefully only temporary, roommate.
What a day. She’d been busy, had gotten a surprise kitten, and now had a complex about pet odors. A patterned knock at her door distracted her from her next chore. Peeking out the window, she spied Gabriel. He’d called, asking to see her tonight and claiming that he was in a real jam. He’d been very fuzzy on the details, and the more questions she asked him, the more confused she became by the answers. It really didn’t make sense. But she’d always been a soft touch to anyone in trouble and Gabriel was her Achilles’ heel.
She opened the door steeled for an unpleasant encounter. “Come on in.” She waved him in, his light aftershave scent tickling at her senses. Damn. Why did he have to be so gorgeous?
“Thanks for seeing me, Shar. You know I hate to ask…” he spoke, walking into her cozy kitchen and dropped to a chair.
“So what’s going on this time?” she asked, filling the coffee pot with water. He paced around the small kitchen.
“I was going to lie to you, but I can’t.” He ran a hand through his tousled blond hair. She nodded for him to continue. Gabriel coming clean for once was new territory. He always tried to present himself as an ambitious entrepreneur but remained light on the specifics. “I lost someone else’s money and I need to pay up fast.” He steepled his stretched fingers on the table, letting his slightly too long hair fall into his eyes.
Her fingers itched to push the stray locks away. Gabriel was irresponsible and a dreamer, but he was also beautiful—and her stepbrother. Damn him.
She’d been infatuated with him since she was a teenager and could never say no to Gabriel. Being around him was a form of sweet torture. It was a complicated situation made worse by shared tragedy. Her mother had married his father—the year that Shari was a senior in high school and her stepbrother was a junior in college. That summer their parents had died in a car accident. The times after that were tough. Gabriel tried to act like a protective older brother, but the attempt always felt awkward and forced. Her crush still remained her one dark secret.
“How much do you need?”
“Two thousand dollars.” He sighed and stared down at her kitchen table.
“Jeeze, Gabriel, I don’t have that kind of money lying around. I’m barely scraping by since I broke up with Johnny.”
“You mean since you wised up and kicked him out.” Gabriel looked up, his jaw clenched.
“Well, it was easier paying the bills with two paychecks, but I couldn’t forgive him.” She turned back to fiddle with the coffee maker. That had been about the only thing easier with him around.
Gabriel’s chair scraped against the floor as he stood. “The bastard cheated on you with your best friend and stole your laptop. He’s lucky I didn’t come after him.”
“Don’t be a bully. I’m an adult that got involved with the wrong guy. I don’t need you punching people over it. But I appreciate the gesture.” She giggled. “Although, I still don’t have two grand.”
He walked up behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist. The innocent contact made her pulse jump. “I know you don’t have that kind of money. I think this time I wanted to have someone I could talk to. I’m fucking up my life, but I feel like I can’t stop and I dunno. It’s like there’s just something wrong with me.” He dropped his forehead against her hair. His warm body pressed against hers felt wonderful.
Damn it, what was she even thinking? She forced her body not to snuggle against his. Gabriel was finally figuring out he needed to change his ways, and all she could think about was what his lips would feel like nuzzled against her neck. Double damn it! She wasn’t sure where all the anger was coming from, but ever since Mr. Beautifully Rude had said she smelled, she’d been an odd mix of pissed off and depressed. Wasn’t she happy working in the animal hospital and fostering needy critters? Why keep torturing herself over someone she couldn’t have?
Gabriel asking for help was new. She let out a sigh. It sounded like he was finally willing to admit he wasn’t all that he kept pretending to be. This was too much though. She’d need a plan and then some distance from him to think it over. She chuckled at herself. She wanted to help him just like she wanted to be there for everyone else; it was in her nature. She’d eventually forgive her former best friend for hopping in the sack wit
h Johnny. Shari truly believed that people were inherently good, but they sometimes lost their way and made mistakes. Everyone deserved a second chance.
He tightened his hold, kissing her hair. She heard him suck in a breath as he pushed away from her. She turned around to face him. He dropped his gaze to the floor. Whatever expression he’d held was now concealed. Was he embarrassed that he’d confided his troubles to her? She wasn’t prone to judging people—surely he knew that about her.
“Hey, thanks for listening. I gotta go though—I’m meeting someone later tonight. I think this one might be the one for me finally.” Gabriel turned, walking out the kitchen door before she could respond. Had he met a woman he was trying to pull his life together for? The thought sent bile into her throat.
She clutched the counter tightly. She had to physically force herself not to follow him out into the night. What was she going to do, stalk him and sabotage his date?
Rocky strolled out into the kitchen, letting out a big meow and pulling her from her thoughts. Tomorrow was another day and another chance to get things right.
Chapter 5
What the hell had happened to him? He actually told the most pure-souled woman he’d sensed in millennia that she smelled. He was a demon, yes, but he was an incubus demon—he could certainly be smooth. Telling a girl she smelled was not usually part of his playlist. If only she’d stuck around longer, he might’ve been able to get his wits back fast enough to have gotten the word heavenly out, but she bolted. He knew by the red hue coloring her skin that following her would be a mistake. He should leave her alone. She deserved a perfect human man with as pure a soul as hers, not an incubus who would only bring her corruption and misery.
Oh, but her goodness made his mouth water. He could sense she wasn’t a virgin—her purity was not of the flesh but of a far more rare form—purity of the heart. She truly cared about others in this world in an unselfish and altruistic way. It was inhumanly alluring.
If he had any sense, he would go back and hook up with the blonde who’d practically been calling out for evil to find her. Dorian finished his shopping in his usual precise manner, avoiding the longing looks the ladies and some of the men of the supermarket cast him. Mentally, he continued with his long list of reasons to leave the red-haired girl alone. Despite his best intentions, he knew in the end he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Somehow, fate was going to bring him to her again. Fate was a conniving bitch.
He got into his car, flipped the air conditioning on high, and drove off, determined to drop his groceries at home, deliver the previous day’s darkness, and meet up with his last appointment. He was close to finally paying for his freedom. Soon he’d give the demon masters enough darkness for them to release him and finally be granted a human soul of his own.
It wasn’t all sex and screams being an incubus. Especially not in the twenty-first century. Oh, it used to be a lot more interesting. Sure, back in the day, an incubus could be accused of being a demon and run out of town by pitchfork-wielding villagers, but at least the victims showed some real terror. Those sweet sheep would beg, cry, and call out prayers to whatever God they hoped would save them but to no avail. The real fun was watching them try to explain their lost virtue and moans of pleasure in the night to angry fathers and cuckolded husbands. Some of his past victims had been burned as witches, accused of frolicking with a demon, and Dorian had enjoyed seeing their torment. That was all starting to change the closer he came to earning a soul of his own.
He slammed his hand against the dash, frustrated over his fumbled speech. What was it about her that had him strung so tight? He’d made mistakes before but learned from them. For a moment, he let his memory drift back. He’d foolishly become infatuated with a beautiful noblewoman. Their affair had been hot and heavy, and her beauty so profound that he mistook lust for something more. He’d fought battles to keep her by his side and hadn’t rested until his quest had been complete. By then, hundreds had been slain, villages set on fire, and vast expanses of farmland scorched. When all the smoke cleared, he realized too late that it had only been the conquest he’d found so appealing. The woman was just another beautiful girl with manipulation and greed in her heart. The humans would get the story all messed up, name her Helen, and make it a much bigger deal than it had been.
How full-blooded mortals viewed events was inconsequential, for him it had been a learning experience. Now he knew the difference between the thrill of the chase and the savoring of victory. What he didn’t know was what the pure-souled girl would be—another thrilling chase or a victory.
* * * *
Dorian locked himself in his office. The gesture was not necessary as he lived alone and no pop-in staff came in the evenings. He was paranoid about his privacy—only paid employees were allowed access to the estate’s grounds, and he avoided conversations beyond the business at hand. He’d lived on the Gulf coast for a couple of years. Normally by now, he would begin planning his next move. He did age, albeit very, very slowly. Humans would become suspicious of a neighbor that time appeared to leave alone. Soon though, he’d be able to change. He would age, experience illness, even death—all because of his arrangement with the masters.
Willing his consciousness to the demon’s dimension required intense concentration. He had to channel all of his energy into a tight ball and then “push” it to the place in between. That was where the demon dimension hid. He let his form sink into the leather chair and closed his eyes. Air flowed all about his statue-still form. The transition was like sliding into warm water. The silence as he slipped to their realm was maddening in its absoluteness.
It was a journey of seconds but felt like hours. Once there, Dorian opened his eyes and willed his legs to move. He knew his body remained at his home office, but moving through the master’s dominion required control over one’s specter silhouette. A young acolyte wearing the blue robes of his station came forward, an expression of disgust marring his features. The demons could project divine beauty or grotesque horror. This one allowed his revulsion of Dorian’s kind to mar his usually angelic visage.
“Leave your tribute and accept your next assignment, Dorian Black. Your extended presence is distasteful.” The acolyte’s tone was demanding as he pushed a glass vessel toward him.
“I’ve no plans to linger. In fact, I’ve only one more delivery left now. Soon I won’t ever need to befoul your halls again with my presence.” He blew the darkness into the ceremonial casement. The young demon slapped a cork seal on, trapping the energy inside.
“We can only hope you provide the last bit of soul to us quickly then.” He turned to hand the bottle to another blue-robed novice.
The Pures hated his kind and didn’t bother to hide it. Half-breed incubi were simply slaves to be farmed out. They were the collectors, sucking the evil from the untouchable human souls so that the Pures didn’t have to expose their elevated selves to mere mortals. It was ironic really, since his father was one of the most ancient and powerful demon masters. His sire had seduced a mortal for sport, not expecting the product of such a union to survive. Few ever did, and most were not bestowed with any dark gifts. Dorian was special in that regard but not special enough for any Pure to consider him as anything more than an abomination. Perhaps if his father had claimed him, it would have been different, but only his mother found him worthy.
“I have already begun my pursuit of the last soul. Gabriel is interesting, but I’ve also come across another who is an exceptionally rare find. She has a darkness the masters will savor.” Dorian willed his form to turn away. He disliked being in this realm and wished the exchange were over.
“No. Gabriel is the one ordered. No substitutions. You will bring this one’s complete soul and then your freedom will be granted.”
“His whole soul? But I’ve only ever taken the darkest portions. I can’t empty a human of an entire soul. They’d die.” Dorian’s lips curled into a scowl.
“The masters demand a complete soul from thi
s”—the novice paused, hesitant to spit out the word—”man. He is to be the litmus test for what you Incubi are capable of bringing us. Why should the humans benefit from our soul cleansing without some sacrifice? Do they not discern the reason behind the growth of human civilization? The increase in rationality and benevolence over the eons, all nurtured by our efforts to see the evil of man sucked out of the ignorant masses.” The novice turned away, not considering Dorian to be worthy of further notice.
Dorian pulled his consciousness out of the demon realm, opening his eyes to the peace of his home office. He needed to spend some time thinking on all that he’d learned. Why did the masters want all of Gabriel’s soul? Did they wish to see him dead for some reason? He leaned back farther into the comfort of his leather chair, rocking a bit. Yes, he would have to think quite a bit about all of this.
Chapter 6
The bar was packed, and Dorian could sense the sin in the air. He had been hanging out at Club Reveal for the last few weeks slowly reeling in his new and hopefully last assignment. The young man he’d been tasked with was a player in more ways than one. The human, Gabriel, had been conning money from rather naughty marks. Gabriel’s victims tended to have come upon their “capital” in rather shady ways—people not likely to call the police once they finally realized they’d been conned. Most had lost their blunt in a timeshare scheme that Gabriel had cooked up, except the mark’s money was never put into real estate. Once he got the cash, he would use it to finance his trips to Atlantic City and Las Vegas. There he’d gamble for a few days and then return to Florida. If he made money on the trip, he would pass on some “profit” to one of his financers. This in turn would encourage the mark to invest even more money. The problem with this scheme was that he didn’t always win at the tables, so eventually he was flat broke again.
