by Angie Fox
Chapter Eleven
Dimitri rolled over, nestling me in the crook of his arm. His fingers wound through my hair in a way that would have been soothing if things hadn't been so… different.
He felt positively toasty under my cheek. I ran a finger along one of the cuts on his chest. It had healed amazingly fast. If I hadn't seen the gash for myself earlier, I never would have believed it. "How?" I asked.
"My people heal quicker than most. It's a gift," he said, trailing his fingers through my hair, "one that I've been especially grateful for since I met you."
"Well look at that, a griffin comedian." I kept it light, knowing that I couldn't order him away from here. No, I had to come up with a better idea.
I shivered and snuggled closer, trying to steal some of his warmth. My body felt like I'd gone skinny dipping with the polar bears. I closed my eyes and invoked the girlfriend privilege, planting my icy feet in the warm spot between his calves. Oh yes… his heat seared my frozen toes.
"Dang, Lizzie!" Dimitri yanked back, and I took the opportunity to snuggle in up to my knees.
"Don't even try it." I savored the feel of his legs wrapped around mine. "I'm on you like an Appalachian tick."
His chest rumbled. "I can see that." He wrapped himself around me in a huge Dimitri blanket.
Ahh… good thing he'd surrendered because, frankly, I didn't feel like moving much.
He ran his fingers down my spine. "So is frostbite the price of love these days?"
"Something tells me you've got plenty of heat to spare." I planted a soft kiss above his nipple.
The cuts had healed into a series of angry red slashes. I hated that. For once, I wished for a bit of peace with this man—without soul-sucking demons to battle or creatures trying to tear holes in us.
I traced one down the side of his abdomen and he inhaled sharply. "Now that it's impossible for us to move," I said, trying for some humor before I completely ruined the moment, "tell me. Honestly. What's happening to you?"
No excuses. No kissing and pretending to forget. Something terrible was eating him alive, even as we lay in his bed.
Dimitri didn't move, but I felt his muscles harden.
His voice was rough. "I can handle it."
"Oh really?" I fought a shiver as I dug myself out of his embrace. He looked sinfully raw and downright frightening as he lay in the tangled sheets. This wasn't my powerful yet gentle Dimitri. No. He was turning into something else entirely.
"Level with me, Dimitri. I know something is corrupting you. Now tell me how bad it is."
He brought his eyes to mine, and I almost fell off the bed when I saw the flecks of red. "Oh heaven, I pushed you further, didn't I?"
H-e-double-hockey-sticks.
The she-demons were feeding off his lust. Mine too.
Goose bumps erupted up and down my body and I had to keep my teeth from chattering. He'd—they'd—stolen my heat, my energy. I'd given it willingly, not realizing the tight hold they had on him. They'd turned him into some kind of a conductor.
I opened my mind and felt them, like a pounding at the door, as they stole from him.
I scrambled for the nearest article of clothing and came up with my black leather pants. I held them in front of me. "You have to get out of this city. Now." I didn't know if it would lessen the hold they had on him. Heck, for all I knew, it was too late for that. But we had to try. I wasn't willing to risk the alternative.
He had the nerve to stare me down. "I'm taking a hit," he said, bringing himself up like a giant cat accepting a challenge. "But it's nothing I can't handle."
God, I was tired. Still, I forced myself to look at his defiant face. "Your eyes are yellow."
He tugged the pants away. I pulled them back, well, at least to my belly button.
Dimitri traced a finger over my stomach, his touch decidedly chilly. "You think I'm going to leave you alone in this city with twenty-five succubi on the loose?"
I resisted the urge to tell him that he had, indeed, left me alone when he took off for Vegas without me. To most women, having a boyfriend help them meant he'd act as a one-man apartment mover, or if she was really lucky, a mechanic. I had to get the guy who'd put his soul on the line.
"How did you know there were so many?" I asked. I hadn't told him.
His eyes trailed down the column of my throat, down to my naked breasts and back up again. "Let's just say I was able to connect with an individual who shares our dislike of demons."
I stiffened. It couldn't be someone from the Department of Intramagical Procedures. "Who?" I asked, crossing my arms over my breasts.
How did he even know where to go?
"There's a hunter," he said, his words cold.
Not Sid's hunter. I rubbed at my arms in a vain attempt to keep them from going numb. "A DIP officer warned us about a rogue hunter. Where did you see him?"
Dimitri didn't answer for a moment. The muscle in his jaw flexed before he said, "He found me. And he'll probably try to find me again. I wasn't able to finish the job."
"You mean you wanted to kill him?" I couldn't believe he'd be that shortsighted.
If there were more of us, we might be able to fix what had gone wrong. At the very least, I'd like to meet the guy. I'd be willing to help if it meant getting Phil back and Dimitri gone from this place.
Dimitri looked like he wanted to punch the headboard. "You don't understand, Lizzie. He's not a slayer like you. He's… a thing." He ran his hands through his hair. With a shock, I noticed it had begun to gray. "This hunter is more of a creature than a man."
Fine. I rubbed my temples. Focus. I couldn't hope to help Dimitri without all the facts. "What is a hunter anyway?"
Dimitri seemed to know I was up to something. Still he answered, reluctantly. "Hunters kill demons, but they aren't born to it, like slayers. They're chosen. And with each kill, they lose a part of their humanity. The one I met tonight is no better than the demons he slaughters."
I found that difficult to believe. Anything or anybody willing to slay a demon got a gold star in my book. "How can you make a blanket statement like that? How do you know that hunters—"
"I've met my share of them, Lizzie." He drank me in like a cat contemplating a particularly tasty snack. "I learned about this one years ago when I was looking for a slayer—you."
Of course. Back when Dimitri would have done anything to kill the demon who'd attacked his family. Now he'd shifted that loyalty to me.
"You attacked him, didn't you?" The old Dimitri would have tried negotiation first. I wasn't so sure about this new man in front of me.
He snarled at the memory. "Actually, he went after me. He seems to think I'm bad for the neighborhood."
The truth of it shocked me to the core. "He knows the succubi are feeding off you."
It drove me nuts that he felt he had to be here—defenseless and alone—for me, when facing the hunter was probably the one thing I could have done right tonight. I was a demon slayer, and curse it all, I might not know the ins and outs of the magical world, or who did what, but I knew how to throw a switch star.
This was another area where I could—and would—take charge.
He eyed me suspiciously.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I demanded.
Dimitri secured a small, ornate box from the table next to the bed. It reminded me of an antique snuffbox. "Stay away from the hunter," he said, his back to me as he clicked the box open.
He rubbed an ointment along the scratches on his neck, down the angry red slashes on his chest. My throat went dry as I watched his fingers glide lower, over muscle and skin.
I forced myself to look away.
"We lost Phil," I told him.
I explained how we'd had him and how Serena had stolen him back right from under us.
"We need to do something," I told him. "Figure out their plans, even if it means forming an alliance with this hunter."
"No." He shoved the box back onto the dresser. "I know h
ow much you want to act immediately, Lizzie," he said, choosing his words carefully.
He should. Dimitri was the king of barreling off. I'd seen him go after black souls, possessed werewolves, you name it. He brushed back a lock of my hair, and I almost felt like I was speaking to the real Dimitri, except for his possessive grip, and the roughness in his voice.
He rubbed his thumbs over my palms and I detected some sort of oil. "Did you get this from Battina?" I asked, catching a faint hint of aloe and spice.
"It's an old family recipe. I told you I could handle this," he said, his eyes fading to amber.
They still weren't brown, and I still didn't believe him.
"You need to understand," Dimitri continued, as if he wasn't in mortal danger, "it's suicide to chase a succubus in this city, especially if she's gained an immense amount of power. We wait for them to act."
I wanted to say something snarky, given who was dishing out that particular piece of advice. But deep down, I knew he was right. I wasn't stupid. I was desperate.
Tears welled at the back of my eyes. If we'd focused on freeing Phil this afternoon… If we'd acted faster… I dropped my head, trying to collect myself.
Now I was about to fail with Dimitri. "I'm going to ask you this once, with everything I have. Please, for the love of… us. Leave this city."
Dimitri drew his shoulders back, like an immense Greek wall. "I can't," he said, resigned.
"I don't want to lose you," I pleaded. Surely, he had to see the logic.
He took my hands, warming them. "I can do some things that other griffins can't," he said. "I'm pure-blooded, and from a royal line. That gives me extra strength."
I wanted to believe.
"You do realize I belong to a clan with some standing."
"But I thought your clan died out." I cringed as I said it. Like he needed to be reminded he and his two sisters were all that remained of their family.
"When I realized what we'd be facing here in Vegas, I pledged myself to the Domonis clan in Rhodes. They have numbers, and the power of an old family," he said. "We lend each other our strength."
"Is that what they get from you too?"
"When I have it to give. They also get my loyalty and my bloodline. I've been too busy to start a family of my own." He fingers caressed my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake. "Now, I'm ready. Well, as soon as we finish here."
I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about the future, not with what was happening in the here and now. "You're being corrupted, Dimitri. I can see it." It was more than the yellow eyes; he'd fed off me. When I thought of how pale he'd looked before our lovemaking and how robust he was afterward…
Dimitri's fingers found the sensitive nook behind my ear. A trickle of warmth threaded through me and at that moment, I couldn't think of a better place to be than in his arms. He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulled me toward him.
Like a dash of cold water, I realized what I was doing and drew back. Whatever he was using to treat himself seemed to be holding off the succubi for now, but if the she-demons were feeing off his arousal, we didn't need to make it worse.
He watched me, as if he knew. "I don't have much," he said, stretching like a cat against me. "Except my pure griffin blood." His thumbs traced circles along my spine. "But that will be enough."
I let him fold me into his arms. I found an unmolested part of his chest and rested my cheek there as we lay back down. It seemed like he'd generated a measure of strength from my closeness, at least that's what I told myself as he leaned close and nibbled my neck, my earlobe. Mmm… I felt myself go limp then delightfully stiff with anticipation as his fingers trailed through my hair, found my scalp and pulled me toward him for a scorchingly perfect kiss.
"This is temporary, Lizzie. I meant it when I said I could handle it."
Bless his loyal streak, I almost believed him… if not for the yellow eyes.
"We're going to find a way to retrieve your uncle, and his power," he said like a promise.
I touched the edges of the raw pink wounds slicing across Dimitri's chest. "I wish I knew how," I said. "And why she needed to marry him."
"They seem to need more from him. There's something big going down," he said. "I'll bet your uncle is involved somehow."
I didn't understand how. "My uncle wouldn't cooperate with demons."
"You don't know him," Dimitri reminded me.
He would have to bring that up.
Still, I saw those marriage vows. Phil had been forced. Besides, in a way I couldn't quite explain, I felt like I did know Phil. He'd always been there for me, even if he hovered on the sidelines. He saved my life, but more than that, he'd been a part of it. And I'd make sure he'd keep being a part of it. I'd build my family, one member at a time.
"Listen, Lizzie. Whoever's behind this, they've got the nonmagical world involved too."
Holy Hades.
I wished I had the power to stop all of this. Some demon slayer—I couldn't even stop one demon without being swarmed, much less the multitudes feeding on Dimitri, or the devil that married my uncle. If I didn't figure out something fast, I had a feeling someone I cared about was going to get hurt even worse.
Overwhelmed, I closed my eyes for a moment, and woke to find him gone.
Chapter Twelve
During my short time in this magical world, I'd learned that first impressions can mean everything. They can buy the respect you need to survive or set you up for a whole lot of hurt. I dressed carefully the night I went to meet the hunter. He might be on his home turf, and he had more experience. But he had no idea what I could do to him.
Neither did I.
I scored a lavender dress in the hotel shop downstairs—shorter, silkier, brassier than anything I'd ever owned. The neckline plunged between my breasts and into a band of glittering silver beads. Some would have gone for red or black, or gothed it up. Sue me, I hadn't quite been able to give up my pastel roots.
The silk skirt lapped at my legs as I walked. I could run too. My low sandals, in glossy silver, crisscrossed my feet like my Adidas Supernova Cushion 6 trainers. I felt amazing. And I looked good too.
Pirate weaved between my legs like a cat, his tags jangling against one another. "Say, you're awfully dressed up. You sure you're going to the vet?"
My demon slayer utility belt felt cool against my hips. "You want to go to the vet with me?" I asked, securing the crystal buckle below my navel. I probably didn't need to lie when an organic doggie food bribe usually did the trick. Still, I didn't want to take any chances tonight.
Pirate sized up the mound of Paw Lickin Chicken Biscuits I'd dumped onto our bed. "You know what? I think I'll stay in for a change."
"Praised be," I said, tamping down a coil of guilt. I hated to leave him alone, but Pirate would only be a liability tonight.
The same went for Dimitri. While he could be downright lethal in a fight, he was compromised. I didn't want to get him any closer to the she-demons. Tonight would be about negotiation. Mission one—make contact with the hunter. Mission two—well, I had a feeling that with all the succubi in town, the hunter might know a way to get Uncle Phil back, body and soul.
And since negotiation required actual talking, it was best I go it alone. Judging from the marks on Dimitri last night, he hadn't exactly sat down for a cup of coffee with the man. The last thing we needed was for the two of them to go at it again. And Grandma? She had the people skills of Genghis Khan.
My hair brushed my shoulders as I gave it a final toss and a coat of finishing spray.
"Pirate, you stay here and don't open the door for anybody, okay?" I hoped no one would bother a twelve-pound Jack Russell terrier.
I kissed my dog good-bye and checked the door locks twice before I headed out.
As if locks would stop them.
The Paradise felt eerily quiet. I'd half expected to see Grandma sending out concierge Skeeps in the hallway or tracking demons down in the lobby, but she was nowhere to be fou
nd. In fact, I hadn't seen Grandma all day—or Dimitri.
I took a deep breath as I stepped out into the warm desert night. Groups of tourists, some dressed for the evening, some still in shorts, streamed past. Traffic jammed The Strip, and I could detect a faint trace of sulfur in the air. Something was going down.
Okay. I smoothed my dress. I could handle it. Probably. Times like these, I wished there were more than three Demon Slayer Truths. Look to the Outside. Accept the Universe. Sacrifice Yourself. Maybe they should add, Watch Your Back. Because, really, that's the only thing I could do until this shadow of a threat decided to reveal itself.
When it did, it was my job to get the hunter on our side.
According to Officer Sid Fuzzlebump, the hunter frequented Pure, a popular night spot at Caesar's Palace. As I walked through the tall glass doors of the club, I caught a flicker of the supernatural. It didn't even try to hide. My breath quickened and my palms began to sweat.
Pure billed itself as "two floors of decadence," which didn't even begin to cover it. Blue and green lights splashed over a backdrop of white, ivory, cream and silver. Toned, expensively perfumed twenty-somethings graced lush, oversized beds and flitted between towering columns and flowing white curtains. A hip-hop mix thumped with a heavy bass dance beat. Bodies bumped and ground against each other, both on and off the dance floor. I opened my mind and let my senses spread like invisible fingers throughout the opulent space.
How far would I be willing to go to get my friends out of Vegas? With any luck, I wouldn't have to find out.
The hunter wasn't obvious among the partyers on the main level and immense terrace above. It didn't mean he wasn't here. As I made my way through the crowd on the main level, two polished businessman-types toasted me while hunkering over a low, candle-strewn table. I straightened my spine and felt my skin flush. I should be offended. I wanted to be. But, frankly, I found the attention as flattering as it was shocking. I'd never been the kind of girl to draw stares. Of course, I'd never been to a place like this, either.
