Sexy Beast

by Sherri L. King

  Sometimes while awake she could feel him, but not see him. She could feel his hands on her shoulders, her back and her bottom. And the repeated brushes of invisible lips over hers, kisses so real there was no possibility of discounting them to the realm of fantasy, drove her crazy with yearning. They happened at the most inappropriate times, always unexpected, but undeniably teasing, tormenting and even punishing.

  She was worn out from his supernatural games. And from all the effort it took her each and every day to ignore the signs that would soon force her to admit all was not going according to plan.

  Her life would never go back to the way it had been before Otto.

  Angel brushed her teeth, getting ready for work, and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was translucent, even in the warm lighting. Her flaxen hair’s anime-emo layers were grown out now just enough that she was beginning to like the style. Her eyes seemed bluer than normal, bright despite her restless nights and frustrating days.

  She rinsed, made sure her mouth was clean—then did a double take.

  Her blue eyes were glowing. And then the blue was brown. Then the brown deepened to a raspberry chocolate, the maroon shade of Otto’s smoldering gaze.

  In the mirror, her image was gone.

  Otto’s had taken its place.

  Angel gaped.

  Otto winked.

  With a snarl, she threw her toothbrush at the mirror and was satisfied when his imaged disappeared. But when her image didn’t take its rightful place again, she started trembling. It was weird, possibly the strangest thing so far, to not find her own reflection in the mirror after Otto left it.

  “He’s a devil, not a vampire.” She turned her back and left the bathroom, stomping childishly.

  After he visited the mirror—a phenomenon she later researched, surprised to find it almost as well documented as the tale of the crossroads bargain—Angel promised herself to never again allow him the element of surprise.

  She covered the mirrors of her house with sheets, or in many cases moved them to the attic. At the shop, Angel stopped letting her eyes stray from her work, focusing with all her will only on what was immediately in front of her. At night she began drinking loads of caffeine and taking over-the-counter wake-up pills so that when she did sleep, it was too light a slumber for Otto to take advantage.

  Constantly jittery and with a tendency to doze, it was no surprise when she started throwing up after her morning meals. But when Yancy and Robin noted her erratic behavior, she convinced them it was nothing more than the usual cold, overwork or even seasonal ennui. She became a good liar, an expert at projecting a normal—even happy—façade.

  Damn. Before Otto, she’d been such an honest, decent person.

  While the preparations for Yancy’s wedding neared completion, Angel believed she’d found enough ways to protect herself, and thence those she loved, to celebrate the union between two star-crossed lovers with proper and sincere enthusiasm. Eventually Otto stopped appearing. And with his absence, Angel could pretend it was as if their strange bond had never existed.

  Until her occasional nausea after meals became a constant one. Then she began to really worry. Her period didn’t arrive when it should have the first time after her dalliance with Otto, but Angel had ignored the signs. She’d never had a regular cycle anyway. When she missed her second period, well, even she wasn’t stubborn to the point of stupidity.

  Again, Angel was glad Otto seemed inclined to stay away. Devil that he was, Otto could never be allowed to know he’d fathered a child. There was no telling what kind of bad influence he’d be on a kid—just look at the train wreck he’d made of her well-ordered life.

  Chapter Seven

  It was a beautiful, sunny January morning. A perfect day for a wedding. And the wedding itself was beyond perfection. The bride was beautiful, the groom proud and, with Robin and Angel dressed in their silver satin gowns—nothing traditional for Yancy’s best friends—it seemed a fairy-tale affair.

  It wasn’t a large wedding, but it was just as extraordinary as the relationship between the two soul mates at the altar. The small church was decorated in white, silver and yellow. There were sunny daffodils and vanilla orchids arranged in every available space and their heady fragrances draped the air. Friends and family populated the pews, though only Angel and Yancy knew the full magic of the moment, as they were the only two who knew Conrad’s secret.

  The vows were spoken eloquently; Angel saw the sheen of tears in her friends’ eyes and knew her own sparkled with emotion. When the bride and groom were introduced as husband and wife, the applause from those in attendance couldn’t match the celebration in her own heart at seeing the joy on Yancy’s face.

  Yancy and Conrad were destined to be together. It was so clear that no one in the church could doubt that truth. Conrad plainly cherished every breath he shared with Yancy and the absolute devotion in Yancy’s gaze was impossible to miss.

  Seeing the two so much in love, Angel silently admitted to an inevitable realization.

  This fairy-tale ending was one she could never know. Even if she were capable in the coming years or decades of finding someone she could share her life and child with, it would not be this way for her. After knowing Otto, wanting him and being with him, and now carrying his babe, she was ruined for mortal love. Even if Otto disappeared from her thoughts, her memories would serve as a painful reminder of just how much magic she’d once held in her arms. After Otto, there could be no great love.

  Angel felt a piece of herself wither and die with understanding.

  She loved Otto. Of course she did. With all her heart she loved him. But with that same heart she feared he couldn’t love her in return because he was not human. And with all the fierceness of a mother’s determination, she swore their child would be human in every way she could provide. It would know all the love she yearned for, have every comfort, and learn the difference and value of what was right and what was wrong. This child was born of love and no shadow would dare touch it while she lived.

  Her world as she had known it was done. Her heart no longer belonged to her, but to a devil. What use had a devil for a heart?

  So her purpose now was the child that nestled beneath her beating heart. Nothing else could matter.

  Not wanting her sudden bleak mood to sully the festivities, Angel found a solitary corner in the reception hall and sat on a decorative chair beside an elaborately framed mirror. She caught sight of her reflection—something she hadn’t seen in a long time, given that her own mirrors were hidden away or covered up. She looked thinner, but not sickly. Willowy, but not hollowed out as she felt she should probably look.

  Her skin had a healthy pearlescent glow, and with her golden hair and silver dress, she shined. If anything she looked healthy and strong. Pregnancy suited her. “Oh Otto,” she murmured. “Why must it be this way?”

  It doesn’t have to be, silly.

  Angel gritted her teeth. Not now.

  Did you really think you could hide it from me?

  Angel hissed, but in truth she’d half expected an encounter the second his name had left her lips.

  Otto’s image appeared in the mirror, replacing her own.

  He smiled. The tenderness in his expression surprised her more than his spectral appearance, the depth of that tenderness more than she’d ever received. You’re so stubborn, my Angel. His voice was a caress inside her mind.

  Something fluttered in her womb. The baby heard its father, and was glad. Angel could feel its outpouring of love and happiness.

  “No,” she whispered, suddenly terrified for the fate of her baby.

  Be still. Be calm. He closed his eyes against her fear and chuckled as if he couldn’t believe her response. The sound warmed her like strong liquor and at once, incredibly, she was calmer. I told you, you don’t have to be afraid. I would never hurt you. Or our baby. His maroon eyes opened, blazing with warmth as he said the words. I love you both. So much.

  �
��But you’re evil,” she whispered frantically, dazed and afraid—afraid she was dreaming. “You can’t love.”

  He laughed again. Just because I’m a devil, a creature of mischief, does not make me evil. I do not kill. I do not force anyone to do anything they are not already tempted to do. I did not force you to love me, he pointed out.

  She sobbed and stood, preparing to flee the infuriating confusion he always managed to drown her in.

  This time, however, he wasn’t willing to let her have her space. Otto reached out through the mirror and caught her, pulling her into the realm on the other side of the glass before she had a chance to fight his hold.

  With surprise she saw they were in a common drawing room. The mirror that had been her doorway was merely a tall standing mirror that reflected her image back at her. The wedding reception was not there for her to see.

  The décor was at once old fashioned and modern. The wooden floor shone with high gloss and was a deep, warm mahogany. The room was very big, the walls covered in silk the color of morning mist. The furniture was Victorian, the lighting artfully arranged to show off the artwork that hung upon the walls. Ancient, threadbare antique rugs were scattered among newer designer floor coverings.

  “Where am I?” she asked with a dry rasp.

  “This is my house. You didn’t think I lived in a graveyard did you?”

  Actually, Angel had imagined he lived in an alternate universe. A house, even one as beautiful and lush as this one clearly was, seemed almost blasé for one such as him.

  “I make a comfortable living as a counterfeiter.” He chuckled. “Though honestly it’s getting a little boring. I’m thinking, instead, of writing. Getting paid to make up fantastic tales sounds like a pretty good gig to me right now. Plus, it means I’ll have more time at home with you.”

  Home with her? For a long pause Angel could only gaze around her, mute. Oh hell, where to start?

  “Were you really going to run from me with our child?” Sadness weighed in his words.

  Angel nodded, beyond lies. “I was scared.” She placed her hands on her still-flat stomach protectively. “I am scared.”

  He took her gently into his arms, a hand at the small of her back, the other cradling her nape. “When I told you what I am, I should have used more tact. But I wanted you to know so badly the truth of my existence. I wanted you to see me for who and what I am. I never expected, especially after your recent exposure to the supernatural, that you would hate me so completely.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “Then what is it you feel for me?”

  Angel stomped her foot. “I don’t know.” She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “I don’t want to say.”

  “You didn’t have to run away.” His fierce hold tightened. “If you don’t hate me, why did you fight against being with me?”

  “I hated myself,” she admitted, face hot with shame.

  “Because you loved a devil.” He seemed to come to the understanding with some pain.

  “No.” She heard herself hasten to assure him. “I hated myself…because no matter how much I wanted him to, the devil couldn’t love me back. Devils can’t love, I’ve done extensive reading on the subject.”

  He stilled—then laughed, a full-bodied sound that threw his head back away from hers. “Have you?”

  She felt chagrined and waited for him to calm himself. “I’m so glad you think this is funny.”

  His mirth died down to chortles. “It’s just all so unnecessarily dramatic. Angel…” He took her face in his hands tenderly. “Baby. Forget what you’ve read. Like everything else, it’s mostly fiction.”

  “But so much was true. The crossroads, your powers, the mirrors—”

  “Hush.” He kissed her lightly. “Just because I’m not human doesn’t mean I don’t have a heart. I can love the same as you. Perhaps even more fiercely, for I can move mountains—quite literally, actually—for the sake of love. If you want, I can put Everest in the middle of Montana to prove my devotion to you. No doubt it will make for quite a tourist attraction after the panic has died down.” He actually seemed to contemplate the idea.

  She couldn’t contain the hysterical giggle that followed the image of such a thing in her dazed mind.

  He was all seriousness, mercurial as ever. “I love you.”

  Angel held her breath, her eyes searching for a lie in his but finding only truth there. “I wanted you to care for me. I wanted you to love me but I was afraid of what that might mean.”

  He frowned. “What else could it mean but that we live our lives together?”

  She gripped him. “What about the others like you? Won’t they see me as a threat? My friends, our baby—won’t they be at risk?”

  The heat of his lips on her mouth stole her breath and all her worry. His kiss was like the spring sun on winter frost, thawing the icy dread that had infected her heart and infusing her with the warmth of hope instead.

  “Angel,” he said some time later. “There is no great conspiracy of otherworldly beings that might come to disrupt our existence. There are others—many others—but we’re no different from humans in our relationships to each other. I am a devil because my parents were both devils. Our child will be half devil because of our union. But there will be no reckoning to dread, no consequences beyond the usual. We’ll be as any other couple.”

  She gaped at him. “Except when someone stops at a crossroads and makes a wish! How can you say we’ll have a normal life when you’re compelled by forces I can’t even understand, to do things even when you’d rather not?”

  “But I wanted to be with you, Angel. I dreaded what you were willing to trade, don’t you see? That is why I fought our attraction but it’s also why I lost the battle. I had to see you. Be with you.”

  Angel shook her head. “This is too much.” All this time wasted. “What about the darkness I felt inside myself? I feel different in here, Otto. I’m different.”

  He placed his hand over hers, covering her heart. “Our child was conceived that first night, love. You felt its presence from the start. This darkness you speak of was only the shadow of our baby’s spirit making itself known. The babe is strong and its love for you transcends words. It let you know in its own special way that you were not alone, that you were cared for. All your fear and worry have been unnecessary.”

  Could it really be so simple?

  “It can.” He answered her unspoken question aloud.

  Angel instantly stiffened. “Stop reading my mind!”

  Otto smiled sheepishly. “I can’t read every thought you have, so don’t get all worked up. I can just hear the louder musings, and those only some of the time.”

  She was grateful for that.

  Supposing it was the truth.

  There was no telling with him, really.

  And then Angel felt the pieces of her world fall into perfect place. All this time spent running. From herself and from him. Such a silly fight it had been. They could have been together, they should have been, from the first. They could have attended Yancy’s wedding together…

  “Oh my god, Yancy!”

  Yancy. Had Angel been missed at the reception, and if not yet, when would her absence be noted? Angel didn’t want to worry her friend unnecessarily on such an important day.

  “Never fear, I’ve got your back, baby.” Otto turned her and Angel reeled as the reception hall once more materialized around her. Only this time she was not alone, and Otto, debonair in his stylish tux—gray to match her silver dress—beamed smugly at her side.

  She eyed him. “Everest, huh?”

  “Say the word. I’d like to see the global reaction myself, but your reaction is what matters most.”

  “I think the tux is enough for now.” She laughed at his slightly disappointed expression and took his arm, the better to keep him and his naughty ideas restrained.

  Together, they went to meet her friends.

  Epilogue


  “It just seems, I dunno, weird,” Otto said, eyeing the cross above the altar. “I mean, I’m not exactly religious, but there are some things so sacred to humans that it’s like a forbidden taboo I dare not trespass against. You know? Just in case and stuff.”

  Angel laughed, hugging the bulge of her stomach as the baby shared her mirth. “We can have the wedding outside if it makes you feel better.”

  He latched onto the idea as though it were a lifeline. “Near the crossroads. It’ll add some irony to the affair.”

  “I like it.” Angel nodded.

  Otto reached for her hand and pulled her close. “You know it’s been hours since you were naked and panting over me,” he growled, and motioned to a shaded corner on the far side of the chapel with his dark, tousled head. “No one would see us if we—”

  “Oh no,” Angel giggled. “Some things are too sacred,” she reminded him firmly.

  The Audi had never driven so fast and they were home in record time. No words were needed. The past few months together had shown them just how perfect a fit they were for each other. Otto had his moments of devilry—every time they went out with her friends there was either a brawl, a power failure, a hailstorm or some other bit of chaos—but he never strayed far from her side.

  Angel’s friends knew Otto was something beyond normal, but they didn’t ask for details and so she was saved from the decision of what to tell them, if anything.

  Their son grew healthy and strong in her womb. And sometimes, when it was quiet, she could hear his thoughts almost as distinctly as if they were her own.

  After the birth—their son promised not to make it too long a labor—their wedding would cement their bond in the eyes of man. But it was in their eyes that their bond was strongest, truest, and every day their love for each other deepened.

  Their bed was soft and big enough for ten, though it was warm and cozy for just the two of them. Otto had them undressed before she could think to start on the buttons of her shirt and he was taking her tender breast into his mouth as he laid her gently upon the mattress.