by Misty Evans
“Track them down for what?”
He gave me a hard look as if I were purposely being dense. “You can’t work for the Bridge Council if you have blood slaves, Kali.”
My stomach fell to my feet. “You’re going to have them killed?”
His stare continued to bore into me.
“They’re human!”
“Barely. A werecat and a witch deep in the occult are not worth risking everything we’ve worked for.”
“Arman is half human. Victoria is all human. Their judgment may be skewed by sin, but they can be redeemed. They don’t deserve to die because of Nudra’s manipulation.”
“It’s them,” Damon said, his voice cold and detached. “Or you.”
Talk about manipulation. For several long moments, I couldn’t find my voice. Then I rose from the chair, snapped the badge off my waistband. “Fine. I tender my resignation.”
I tossed the badge on the file in front of him, walked to the door.
“Kali.”
I pulled up short, kept my back to him.
“This is why you’re so valuable to the Council.”
“The Council put their faith in the wrong demon this time.”
“I don’t think so. Your willingness to give up your career, which clearly you enjoy and are good at, to save two humans is exactly why you’re so valuable.”
Facing the Archdemon, I kept all emotion off my face. “What do you want from me? I screwed up. Me.” I pointed a finger at my chest. “I will not let you murder two humans because I was sloppy.”
His leather chair squeaked softly as he sat back. The side of his lips twitched. In Damon’s world, that passed for a smile.
He fiddled with the edge of my badge. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Nudra’s vampire counterparts from the other three regions of the United States are waiting for us in the conference room along with Yasmin and Kirill. You and I are going to the conference room and unruffling their feathers. During the next few minutes, I’m going to barter with them and make a deal or two. No matter what I say while, you will go along with it. No questions asked. You will not show surprise or hesitate for one second to back me up, no matter what I offer or agree to.”
I didn’t like where this was going. “And in return?”
“I’ll handle your blood slave problem with the other Council members.”
“Handle it how?”
“The two humans will be spared. That’s all I’ll promise.”
I considered telling Damon about Rad, discarded the idea. “Do the vamps want revenge on me?”
“Quite the opposite, I believe.”
What the hell did that mean?
He tossed the badge to me. I caught it in mid-air. Sensing my confusion, he explained. “The regional managers hated Nudra as much as you did, and now they’re looking for a new leader to take his place. A trailblazer. Someone who’s in the good graces of the Bridge Council.”
The bad feeling I had worsened. “What does that have to do with me?”
Another twitch of his lips. Damon stood, straightened his cuffs and buttoned his jacket. “Let’s go make a deal.”
Chapter Ten
Damon opened the office door, saw I was still frozen to the spot, and shut it again.
I thought he would ask me what was wrong, and there were so many things wrong, I didn’t know how I would answer.
But he didn’t ask. Instead, he dropped his gaze to my fat lip.
Even in my platforms, I was several inches shorter than his six-one height. He grabbed my chin with one hand and titled my head up to get a closer look at my lip. “Why do you allow Cole to use you as a punching bag?”
I tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold and held me in place.
Which pissed me off. “We’re both sadists. We enjoy inflicting pain on each other.”
“What pain did you inflict on him?”
“I broke his nose for the third time.”
His lips did that twitchy thing. “A cheap shot.”
I’d show him a cheap shot if he didn’t turn loose of me. “And why is that?”
“Cole’s nose has been damaged so many times, it’s physically his weakest spot. You strike me as more of a…creative…sadist.”
As he said the last two words, he brushed his thumb across my lip. The sensation burned, his dark magic pouring out and entering the tender skin, knitting the split back together. Heat shot across my jaw and down my neck, pain and pleasure suffusing my body at the same time. My breath caught in my chest.
Talk about a sadist. “You’re going to feed me to the vamps, aren’t you?”
His thumb still rested on my bottom lip ever so lightly, and as I said the words, my upper lip came down on top of it. An erotic tingling sensation ran down my spine.
Damon lifted his gaze and our eyes locked. “I’m going to do what’s best for the Bridge Council and this institution.”
“So that’s a yes.”
He caressed my lips one last time before releasing my chin and stepping back. His eyes had gone hard, detached. “Do you know what faith is, Kali?”
Disappointment was evident in his tone, and I understood the real question behind what he was asking. “Faith requires trust.”
One brow arched. “You don’t trust me?”
I’d surprised him. A rare event. “I don’t trust anyone but myself.”
That wasn’t quite true. I trusted Aphrodite, and my human friend Neve, and even JR, my office tech guru, who was three kinds of crazy human.
But trust Damon? No way. I believed in him, believed in his ability to keep the Bridge Council on track and fighting the good fight, but he’d throw me under the bus if push came to shove. No questions asked. “At the moment, I’m seriously questioning your stability as head of the Council,” I said, stomach clenching at my outright honesty. “You let Undead enter the Institute, which is totally against protocol.”
Maybe I imagined it, but some kind of emotion flashed behind his eyes. “I’m hurt you don’t trust me.”
Now it was my turn to be surprised. The badass Archdemon was showing his hand. “If that’s true, which I highly doubt, then you’ve just exposed your weakest spot.” I swept past him, opened the door. “And don’t think I won’t use that against you in the near future.”
I smiled, big, letting him know my inner bitch was still alive and active.
His lips did more than twitch this time, curving up on one side. My threat meant nothing to him, but he admired my bravado. “Remember our deal.”
How could I forget? I fingered Volante on my wrist. “Give me a stake, and I’ll take out all three of the regional managers, right here, right now.”
“That wouldn’t be prudent.”
Party pooper. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
I started to walk into the hallway but Damon reached over and grabbed my hand. He drew me up against his body, eyes staring deep into mine as if he were reading my mind. Caught in his stare and totally confused by his actions, I stammered, “What are you doing?” right before he lowered his head and pressed his lips to mine.
The world stopped. The protest on my lips died. One of his hands pressed against my lower back, forcing my body to mold to his. He took my mouth with power and command, kissing me with the expertise of an Archdemon who’s been around a long, long time.
Every nerve ending in my body lit up like it was on fire. Pleasure, pain, hate, love, passion, his dark magic ripped through my blood, filling me with all of it. The wood-smoke smell of his demonness filled my senses, drugging me. Cloyingly sweet, it dulled the fight in me, suffocating any urge I had to pull away.
Shame on me, but the demon inside me sprang to life, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, letting the heady smoke drag me under. When his tongue demanded I part my lips, I did.
And then I remembered Rad. Remembered Damon was about to sacrifice me to the vamps in some kind of power play. I was nothing but a pawn. To both of them.
And I wa
s tired of being played.
I broke the kiss against my body’s advice and shoved Damon away. “Get your hands off me.”
He grinned, wiped my lip gloss from his lips with a folded white handkerchief. His eyes sparkled with satisfaction and he patted my cheek as he passed me on the way to the hall. “Definite weak spot.”
Dazed, I stood there for a moment, staring at his back as he walked away. Then my anger kicked back in. Slamming his office door, I stomped down the hallway after him, but with each step, I closed my emotions off. Walking into a room with three vamps and two extremely tight-assed Council members required I be in top form.
No emotion.
Nothing personal.
Show no fear.
Act like an equal.
When Damon and I entered the conference room, everyone rose. Introductions were made, Yasmin sending me a reproachful glance from under her heavy eyelashes as I shook hands with each vamp. I ignored her.
The room reeked of cigar smoke and graveyard dirt. The Eastern regional manager, Rafael DeMarco, had the Godfather image down pat. Salt and pepper hair slicked back from his face, ginormous bloodstone ring on his left ring finger, Cuban cigar firmly tucked between his thick lips. Along with the hair, the crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes suggested he’d been turned later in life.
Juliana Ballou Jackson was a Creole beauty pageant queen. Big hair, double strand of pearls around her neck, significant hourglass shape under her designer dress. Youthful-looking package, but she gave off the air of someone who’d been older when she’d been turned as well. Her brown eyes sized up my clothes before evaluating the rest of me and she gave me a respectful nod. Guess my ‘business attire’ passed the vamp’s elitist requirements.
The last regional manager, Toel Maze, was a mix of surfer dude and Dumb and Dumber. Strawberry blond hair, blue eyes, over-the-top enthusiasm. The word ‘dude’ was prevalent in his vocabulary and his clothes were a mix of organic cotton and hemp. A shark pendant hung from a black cord around his neck. His pupils were so dilated, I was afraid he’d vamp out on me. Especially when his gaze strayed to my cleavage and couldn’t seem to find its way back up to my face while we shook hands.
Damon unbuttoned his jacket, pulled out a chair at the head of the table. “Kali and I apologize for keeping you all waiting. It is Halloween, after all. A busy night for us, especially our enforcer.”
The Undead vamps bought the smooth lie, nodding at me with due respect. Yasmin did a modified eye roll and Kirill looked uninterested in the goings-on of one of the hired help. He was far more interested in the plate of gourmet brownies in the middle of the table. Couldn’t say I blamed him. The brownies smelled so good, I considered snagging one myself.
“Dude,” Toel said, giving me a goofy grin. “Kali, like Cali-for-ni-a, huh? Bitchin.”
Bitchin. His pronunciation was off, but I wasn’t going to correct him. With his type, it wouldn’t do any good.
I took a seat at the opposite end of the table, more to distance myself from the vamps than to demonstrate my powerful position with the Bridge Council. Which, in reality, I didn’t possess. I was an important asset, but I wasn’t powerful in this room of powerful archdemons.
The vamps didn’t know that, however, and Damon gave me an approving nod. He obviously liked me playing boardroom dress-up.
Rafael, the Godfather, removed the cigar from his lips. “I’d like to hear what happened at Nudra’s compound.”
Ugh. Like I wanted to tell that story as the opening act. I was going to have to tell it anyway, at least parts of it, in order to satisfy Yasmin, Kirill and Damon. Might as well get it over with.
Yasmin shifted in her chair to better face me and crossed skinny arms over her flat chest. “Yes, Kali, I’d like to hear that story as well.”
Point to Damon’s chief of staff. Pleasant and annoyingly earnest, she sounded believable to all but me.
So I pinned my gaze on the highly-polished table and relayed all the ugly details. The only one I left out was Rad licking my neck and becoming a blood slave along with Victoria and Arman. Why? I don’t really know. It seemed too…personal. He was mine to deal with, rules about me seeking my own vengeance, a minor detail.
When I was done, a heavy silence hung as thick as Rafael’s cigar smoke in the air. Raising my eyes, I found everyone staring at me. Even Kirill. Rafael and Juliana looked slightly disgusted. Toel looked excited, whether from the story or my cleavage, was up for debate. Yasmin swallowed hard and Kirill set down the brownie he was eating. Only Damon looked pleased.
Bastard.
Nudra had not only broken multiple Bridge laws, he’d also violated a few of the vamp kingdom’s. He’d put the entire population in jeopardy by attacking a Bridge employee. The already uneasy truce between the vamp community and the Bridge Council was now at risk of exploding into a full-scale war. One the vamps wouldn’t win.
“Please accept our abject apologies, Ms. Sweet.” Juliana’s voice was soft and feminine with a southern drawl.
She bit the inside of her cheek and batted her lashes at Damon. A nervous habit, or was she flirting with him? “I trust the board will not hold the rest of us responsible for Raj Nudra’s renegade ways.”
Damon sat back in his chair, crossed his legs at the ankles, and gave the vamp a cold, hard stare. He had Juliana and the other regional managers right where he wanted them. “Unfortunately, there is no one else to hold responsible.”
“We’re prepared to make reparations,” Rafael said, waving the cigar around. “To Ms. Sweet and the Bridge Council.”
A light shown in Damon’s hard eyes. “We’re listening.”
Rafael, Juliana and Toel exchanged a look. Rafael stubbed out his cigar in the glass ashtray next to him. His fat fingers drummed the table. “The Council has always been fair to us. East Coast, Southern States, West Coast, we’re all in agreement to your laws and regulations.”
“But, dude.” Toel turned his head toward Damon, then back to me and then back to Damon. The head jerking made me dizzy. His small brain had to be rattling around like a marble inside a hollow bowling ball. “Nudra was a dick dragger, y’know? Fucker controlled everything crossing East to West. Now the donk’s gone, fat waves for all of us, from the Benny—” he pointed at Raphael, “—to the Big Kahuna.” He pointed at himself.
Damon raised one brow at me, suggesting he didn’t speak Idiot and needed a translation. I was no beach bunny, but I thought it was pretty clear. “Nudra’s demise benefits all of you.”
Toel met my eyes, puppy dog love shining in them. “Dude, you surf?”
Really, how in Hades had he ever become a regional manager?
Resisting the urge to knock him upside the head, I addressed the other two vamps. “The Central United States is a big territory. Who’s going to run it now?”
Juliana once again batted her eyes at Damon and spoke in her soft, syrupy voice. “We have a proposition for the Council.”
Damon made a show of looking at Yasmin and Kirill. They both nodded agreement to hear her out. Damon motioned for her to go on.
She smiled and it lit up her face. It was a vamp smile, though, all manipulation and no true emotion. Unwillingly I shivered. “I’m here for a few days to make the transition easier for the next Central regional manager, but the southern region is the largest in this country with the largest vampire population and I can’t be absent too long. Finding the right candidate to replace Nudra is not a task we wish to rush, but we do need to move quickly and efficiently.”
Rafael, seeming impatient for the punch line, leaned forward. “Temporarily, we’d like Ms. Sweet to take over and work with the House Master in Chicago. The Master has agreed to teach her everything she needs to know.”
Each large city had a house for its upper and midlevel managers and was run by a specially appointed Master. The place also acted as a safe house, a retreat and a political meeting ground for that region’s Undead. The Master oversaw the house. The Regional Manager ove
rsaw the politics. Best case scenario, they worked together like the Senate and House of Reps to set rules and guidelines for the Undead population.
Rafael glanced at me, saw my startled reaction, and rushed on. “The arrangement would only be for a short time. Until we find a suitable replacement for Nudra.”
Toel bobbed his head, a sloppy smile on his face. “Hella cool, dude!”
Hella cool. Sure. “Absolutely not.”
At the same time I spoke, Damon said, “We’d have conditions, of course.”
I glared at him and shook my head no. I even touched the ring finger and thumb of my left hand together under the table and started to throw a curse at him. Sensing my magic, he raised both brows in warning.
A sharp pain penetrated my frontal lobe, the sound of his voice ringing in my head. Remember our deal.
I pressed fingers against both temples and fought the sudden sick feeling in my stomach, brought on, not by his psychic push, but by a startling realization.
That’s why he’d kissed me. Not because he was attracted to me or I was some sort of weakness for him. He’d planted his dark magic inside me so he could read my thoughts.
Damon was a psuhke demon. All archdemons were. He could read your body, mind and soul, if you had one, but only if he’d touched you physically in some way. Lesser demons and humans he could read with a simple touch. Demons like me, and other more powerful supernaturals like vamps, he had to touch intimately. A kiss was the most common means of implanting his psukhe seed.
Yasmin’s gaze ping-ponged between us as if she realized what was going on. I mentally called him a bastard in Italian and then my brain, already trained to think of someone else associated with that word, went in a bad direction.
Rad.
Too late, Damon caught the thought. The corners of his eyes pinched. Radison Beaumont?
Kirill, who’d returned to eating, paused long enough in mid-chew to state the obvious. “Won’t work. She’s not a vamp.”
“She has Nudra’s blood in her,” Rafael countered. “She has blood slaves. For all intents and purposes, she’s one of us now.”
