by Linda Wisdom
“Along with being a total party animal, he’s Declan’s cousin. If anyone would know about these raves, he would. Plus Mick was with him at Damnation Alley. Who’s to say he wasn’t Mick’s contact?” She didn’t want to think that was it, because it would bring Declan under closer scrutiny of the Guard. “I don’t think we’ll be able to bring him in unless we can prove he’s had something to do with one of our cases.”
“Don’t quote the law to me, witch!” Mal snapped. “Just find a way to learn what he might know.” He left the building trailing a cloud of noxious smoke.
“You should have known the demon would get you into trouble,” were Meech’s parting words.
“What about you?” Maggie turned to her friend. “Do you have anything to say?”
Sybil’s lips tipped upward. “Is he good?”
Maggie couldn’t hold back her chuckle. “On a score of one to ten, he’s probably in the millions.”
Sybil faked a swoon. “You have all the luck!”
“What about Elweard?”
Together they walked out of the building.
“Let’s just say that Elweard cares more for his grooming than he cares for a gorgeous elf. Are you staying here tonight?”
“Since it’s so late, I might as well. For all I know, Courtney’s already taken over my bed. Something tells me getting her up would be like waking a boggart. And it’s a well-known fact that Humphrey refuses to get up before noon if he doesn’t have to.”
She looked longingly at the dining hall with the idea of a sugar-laden bedtime snack. But the late hour, coupled with the sudden loss of the adrenaline that had fueled her body for too long, had her aching for ten or twenty hours of sleep instead.
She thought of Declan and wondered what he was doing. The club would remain open until dawn, so he’d be busy taking care of his business.
Maggie and Sybil parted company at Maggie’s door.
“Let’s meet for breakfast,” Sybil suggested.
“Okay, I’ll meet you at eight.”
When Maggie entered the parlor room, she found the lights dimmed and Courtney curled up on the couch with her arms around the teddy bear.
“A warrior one moment. A child the next.” Maggie retrieved a light blanket from her room and draped it over Courtney, along with carefully nestling a pillow under her head.
Maggie was never so happy as when she crawled into her bed and wrapped her arms around her own pillow.
It wasn’t Courtney who cluttered her mind as she burrowed under the covers. It was the fiery image of Declan that had her smiling as she drifted off.
***
“This is different.” Maggie turned around to study her surroundings with great interest. “You make sleep so interesting.”
“I thought you’d like to be at the top of the world.” Declan spoke, walking out of a kitchenette. A pair of black silk pajama bottoms hung low on his hips.
“And we are.” She walked over to the wall of windows that overlooked a forest. “Whatever made you think of a tree house? Is it somewhere you’ve come before?”
“Off and on.” He brought in two glasses of wine and set them on a rough-hewn table.
“I’ve got to say you have these dreams down to a science.” She took a seat on the couch next to him. “Even the wardrobe.” She glanced down at the soft blue, silk-and-lace ankle-length gown that flowed over her body.
“Personally, I would have preferred you naked, but I had an idea you would object if I brought you here in that fashion.” He picked up the glasses and handed one to her.
“Why are we here?”
“Privacy.” He looked around the warm and cozy room. The perfect hideaway, even in a dream realm. “No teenagers. No imps demanding my attention. It’s just my beautiful Margit and me.” Amusement chased across his features.
“No sex-maniac cousins,” she added, half turning on the couch to face him. “I like that. As long as we keep to one rule.” She wasn’t about to ignore the opportunity that Declan set up for them. “No discussing the Mayans, previously mentioned teenagers, succubae, the club, you name it. Just us.”
She picked up one of the wineglasses and dipped her forefinger into the liquid. She bathed his lips with the wine and then dipped her finger in again and did the same with her own before she leaned forward and kissed him as she blindly returned the glass to the table.
The wine was dry and tart, the perfect counterpoint for a kiss that rapidly turned sizzling.
“Beautiful.” The word was a breath of air against her mouth. “I missed you.”
She smiled. “You just saw me, what, a few hours ago?”
“Not the same when we have company.” He pulled her on top of him and then rolled them over so he was on top.
Maggie laughed as the couch suddenly morphed into a large bed piled high with pillows.
“And I thought I was gifted with magick. I could get used to this.” She angled up so she sat on his hips, her gown flowing around his legs.
“Not all in my bloodline can create dream realms or manipulate what’s within them. I like to keep my hand in.”
“Yes, I noticed,” she purred, shimmying her hips just enough to keep his attention. Not that she had to work at it too hard. Declan’s interest was right there. “A world all our own.” She rolled off him and lay alongside him, draping one leg over his. She rested one hand against his chest, feeling the heat radiating off his skin.
“I was thinking about you when I fell asleep,” she confessed.
He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “I like the sound of that. I wanted more time with you. I couldn’t stop thinking about that day in your bed. At least the part before we were so rudely interrupted.”
“So you decided if we couldn’t be together for real, we’d have something just as good.”
“For now.” His eyes turned dark, the flames glimmering within.
Maggie idly ran her hand over his chest, enjoying the skin-to-skin contact. She lost herself in his gaze.
“I don’t want to talk,” he said huskily. “I want to…” He bent down and nibbled on her earlobe. “…ravish you. To make love to you until you scream my name.” He bit down a bit harder.
“Let’s try screaming together.”
Declan pushed down his pants and pushed up her gown. He brushed his fingers across her center, finding it damp and inviting. He inserted two fingers, rubbing them against her clit until she mewed and arched her body, pushing down on him.
Maggie returned the favor by wrapping her hand around his cock. “Mine.” She let her body and facial expression echo the word as she rose up, then down on his erection. She pulled off her gown and tossed it to one side.
Declan’s hands spanned her narrow waist and then moved up to cup her breasts. “Mine.” But his eyes told her he was talking about the whole package. He pulled her down to him, licking each nipple and then softly blowing on them.
She gasped at the exquisite heat that raced through her body and moved her hips, rising and lowering them in a rhythm that sang a sensuous song inside her head. She hungered for more, the need to wrap herself around Declan and never let go. Greed roared in her veins as she felt Declan’s body tighten beneath her. Wanting to prolong the moment, she slowed her motion and cupped his sac, gently squeezing the velvety skin.
“Damn!” he rasped, his hands digging into her waist so hard he left finger marks.
She allowed it when he started to direct her movements, and this time, she felt the world momentarily turn black as they came together, each shouting the other’s name.
***
The only word that came to mind was “satisfied.” Declan was happy to lie there with Maggie in his arms and inhale the sensual scent of her skin. He wanted his time with her to be extended as long as possible before their individual worlds intruded again.
***
A shift in the air above alerted him. He snapped open his eyes, looking into eyes that reflected the deeper realms of Hade
s.
“Hello, cuz.” Wreaker revealed his pearly whites. “Wakey, wakey.”
Chapter 18
Declan felt the shift in the realms that transported him back to his apartment and his bed.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He was fully prepared to beat the shit out of the incubus, relative or not. He climbed out of bed to do just that.
“Whoa, too much.” Wreaker picked up a pair of jeans and threw them at him. “Get dressed. You’ve been summoned.”
Declan pulled them on and accepted a T-shirt the color of blood. He smiled in the back of his mind. And here Maggie thought he wore only black.
“Hurry up.” Wreaker wandered around the room, picking up Declan’s key ring and setting it back down.
“Who sent you to get me?” Declan feared he already knew the answer.
“Victorio.” For the first time, Wreaker’s usual flashy grin was missing. “And he wants to see you now. He couldn’t get hold of you on the phone.”
Declan dropped his shirt. “I don’t accept his calls.”
“That’s not stopping him. He’s moving up the career ladder, cuz. We can’t afford to ignore him anymore. Not if we want to stay in one piece.”
A tingling of unease shot through Declan’s body. “What’s this about?”
“What do you think? That witch you’re fucking.” Wreaker held up a dark crystal and tapped it.
Declan was instantly transported to the place he’d fought long and hard to escape.
At least he was fully clothed when he arrived. Ineffective armor, yes, but when facing the one who sired him, he took what he could get.
“How nice to see you, my son.” The gravelly voice was as grating as it always had been.
For Declan, looking at Victorio was like looking into a mirror. His father might be over 1,000 years old, but he still looked more like an older brother than an ancient one. The main difference was in the elder’s eyes. Victorio’s eyes were a deep, dark charcoal that betrayed no emotion. The fire demon wasn’t happy unless he was making someone’s life miserable.
It appeared to be Declan’s turn now.
“I understand your club is turning a nice profit,” Victorio commented, pouring wine into two glasses and handing one to Declan.
He sipped the bitter liquid, ignoring the faint hint of sulfur that wafted upward. What he wouldn’t give for a shot of Johnny Walker Black Label right then.
Wreaker moved to a nearby doorway and slumped against the wall. Declan wasn’t fooled. His cousin might look like the laziest son of a whore in the universe, but he had an excellent sense of self-preservation.
Victorio seated himself in a black lacquered chair. A young female wearing only a filmy skirt was tethered to the leg. She gave Declan a smoldering look while caressing her master’s calf. Victorio gestured for Declan to take the seat facing him.
“You have been very busy, my son,” he said, drinking his wine. “Making a profit in the club despite the Hellion Guard witch invading your new domain. And you even protected a human child. Yes, yes,” he waved a languid hand, “she shouldn’t have been allowed to enter, but I understand she was a tasty morsel.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“I would have thought you’d be tired of human females,” Declan replied. “You always complained they were too frail.”
“They are, but they can be amusing. What about witches? Do they have more stamina? How was she, my son?”
Declan needed every ounce of his will power to keep from looking at Wreaker. He was positive the incubus had said just enough to ensure Declan showed up on his father’s radar. He also knew that meant Wreaker had done some trading to further his own ambitions.
He was always good at protecting himself.
“I was told to keep her occupied, to find out what I could.” Show no fear. He’d snap your neck and then kiss your cheek, telling you what a good son you could have been.
“The Guard shouldn’t concern themselves with the Mayans.” Victorio thrust his empty glass toward his slave, who filled it and carefully placed the glass back in his hand. “The Mayans’ activities have nothing to do with them.”
“And they have to do with us?” Declan asked facetiously. His smirk disappeared when he saw the look on the elder demon’s face. “What do the Mayans offer that you want so badly?”
“Nothing that concerns you, my son.” Victorio peered at him over the rim of his glass.
The wine turned to acid in Declan’s stomach. “What exactly are you saying?” One thing he always hated was a roundabout conversation where no one could be nailed for making a rock-solid statement.
“That the wording in treaties between demonkind and the Mayans can be changed for many reasons.”
“I realize secrets are impossible around our kind, but why would we bother with the Mayans and a sacrifice that would ensure the return of destruction to all but them?” Declan said. “When we could be in danger also?”
Victorio smiled. “That would never happen. As to bothering with them, would that be so bad? Those days were filled with feasting, song, and blood. While ritual anthropophagus was rare, cannibalism did happen back then.” He appeared lost in memories. “It was a fascinating time.”
By now, even Declan’s blood held a bitter taint.
“Why didn’t I ever hear these stories?” he asked curiously.
“There was no reason. Also with you being a half-breed, there were many parts of our history you didn’t need to learn.”
As a child, Declan had been hurt by his father’s dismissal of a heritage Declan couldn’t help. Now he was grateful he had the human half to temper his demon heritage. He knew enough of his relatives that he had no desire to emulate their behavior.
“Yet you’re telling me now.”
“Only because you have an ‘in’ with the Guard.” Victorio’s eyes sliced toward Wreaker. “We thought of sending your cousin, but it didn’t take us long to see she would prefer you over him.”
Declan had always wished his father would talk to him. Treat him as an equal. Now he realized some wishes shouldn’t be granted.
“The club.” His mouth suddenly felt dry, as if dust had been poured down his throat. He’d worked damn hard to earn that club, and now he was hearing that all his work was for naught!
Victorio beamed. “A reward in advance. Oh, yes, you’ve worked hard and gained enough favors to be granted such a boon, but it still would have been years before you could rise that high. You’re lucky that you have relatives with the right connections.
“The witch killing Ratchet sped up the process, which only helped us. While she never admitted to destroying him, we know she was behind his death. No loss there— all in all, it was a boon. And it was a simple matter to have the Bloater visit Damnation Alley, bringing her there so the two of you could meet.”
If there’s ever a time to be sick, this is it. Declan didn’t know who he hated more: his father for arranging his life or himself for being so blind he didn’t see the truth.
“It should have been me,” Wreaker muttered. “I could have gotten things done a lot faster.”
“If you can’t shut up, leave,” Victorio snapped. “All you’ve done is create more problems than solutions. Declan may not be a full-blood, but he seems to have the ability to do what I need.”
“You mean there’s more?” Declan inquired, although he had a fairly good idea what the elder demon wanted. And Declan wasn’t about to do it.
“Throw them off the trail. I’ll give you documents to show that the ritual is false and someone gave them the wrong information. Once you convince them, they’ll release the girl, since they can’t be bothered with keeping a human around. They don’t appreciate pets the way we do.”
He ran his hand over his slave’s hair, which flowed in deep-purple waves down to her hips. “Isn’t she lovely? Very attentive, too.” She looked up at him with adoring eyes.
Please don’t give him a blow job while I’m here.
�
��You want the god of destruction returned to this plane? He’ll try to take us out, too.” Declan always knew when it was a good time to deny his human heritage. This was definitely that time.
“Not all of us.”
“Not all the families,” Wreaker chimed in.
“Out.”
The incubus slid out of the room.
“Did you ever think he might have been adopted?” Declan watched his father and saw the glimmer of anger and tight lines around his finely sculpted face.
“Or snatched from another family.” Victorio blew out an exasperated breath. “There are plans in play, Declan. If you do your job, you will have much more than that club. You will be revered. A god in your own right.”
Victorio’s eyes showed orange flames while the scent of sulfur filled the room. The pet tried to back away from the chair, but her leash didn’t give her much room. “If you wish, you can even keep the witch as a pet.”
“How in Hades did you make a deal with them?” Declan demanded, setting his glass to one side. No way he’d ever eat or drink again while down here. After all, look what happened to Persephone.
“Treaties were drawn up centuries ago. Just do as I say. Ensure that girl is released so she can fulfill the agreement. Once the sacrifice is completed, we will be the ones in charge and the Guard will be no more.”
“Give me the papers. I’ll handle it all.” One lesson Declan had learned well from his father was the art of falsehoods. He could lie with the best of them.
Victorio’s smile of satisfaction would have been a joy to many. For Declan, it only evoked the strong desire that the demon would become someone’s pet instead of the other way around.
For now, he’d let his father think he was willing to do what the ancient demon wanted.
Once Victorio realized that his son had double-crossed him, Declan knew he’d have only one choice—a choice that would land him a starring role on Jerry Springer.
He’d have to kill his father.
***
“Hey! Are you waking up anytime soon? Maggie. Wake up.”
Maggie managed to prop open an eyelid. “Go ’way. Dammit, Courtney! I haven’t had enough sleep.”
