by D. D. Miers
“Me neither.”
A hostile silence followed my reply, and I immediately realized my mistake. Shit.
“I thought you said you were visiting.” He didn’t move, but his voice held a lethal edge.
I dropped a heavy dose of my influence, letting the tendrils of my magic stroke him with pleasure, serenity, and desire. It was a risky move, but I needed to undo his hostility—and I needed to do it quickly.
“What I mean is, my limited budget dictated Reno. It was close and cheap.” I rested my chin on my palm. “If I could have chosen, it would have been Hawaii or Paris.”
The seconds seemed like hours as they ticked by before his defenses eased again.
Thank. Freaking. God.
We talked for another hour about the city and all the places he’d traveled. Two more drinks down, and I could feel the heat of his gaze on my skin, sense the desire in his eyes. I kept up my carefree, flirtatious appearance, smiling and crossing my legs as I leaned into him every so often.
After my last slip, I remained cautious of my words. It only took a second to destroy all the work I’d already done.
The bartender's voice broke through my thoughts. “Can I get you guys anything else?"
Dante looked to me. “One more?”
I nodded.
"Another for each of us.” He turned slowly on his stool until his knees touched mine. His gaze traveled up and down my body before reaching my eyes and staying put. Unexpected. Once most men caught sight of my tits, they didn’t care to look anywhere else.
Time to move things forward.
“So, does the night end here?” My heart hammered in thunderous repetition, but I kept my poker face. Going up to his room wasn’t part of the plan, but neither was the lust burning up my thighs. I could easily apply the tonic-laced lipstick Bastian had given me and finish the first part of this right now, yet here I was, playing with fire.
“Do you want it to?” he asked as he leaned toward me.
Screaming “Hell No!” would make me seem too anxious, so I settled for something a little more playful. “Do you?”
His tongue slipped out and rubbed across his bottom lip. “No, I don’t.”
“Good. Me neither.” I rose from the stool and tugged down the edges of my hiked-up dress. “Should we go back to your room?”
He didn’t take any further coaxing. He set down his drink, dropped a hundred on the bar, and guided us straight toward the elevators.
I’d just go up for a nightcap . . . and maybe a few laps around third base.
Who could blame me? If the word “fuckable” existed in the dictionary, Dante’s picture would be plastered above it. I didn’t intend to sleep with him, just fool around a bit. Besides, it couldn't hurt to foster the connection before part two of the plan—and nothing fostered it better than physical contact.
Bastian hadn't outright said no, but he made it clear to me I wasn't meant to sleep with Dante. Would he be able to tell?
I didn’t know—and I didn’t care.
Maybe it was foolish or careless, but there wasn’t one thing in my life not currently wrecked. Soon enough, I wouldn’t be making a single choice without Bastian’s approval, and right now, I’m willing to take the punishment for this. I needed to take my last chance at pure and honest pleasure, and Dante looked like the kind of man who knew all about pleasing.
Chapter 5
Dante
This woman might be the death of me—and I don’t give a damn.
With every step she took, Ivy’s hips swayed—not purposely—but naturally. Full and round, they beckoned to be grabbed. Caressed. Commanded. She could be an assassin for Samil or any number of my growing enemies, but it didn't matter—all that mattered was here and now. Whatever—whoever she was—could wait until tomorrow. Right now, I’d be a fool to turn her away.
Strong, beautiful and captivating, I intended to have every inch of this alluring creature. Caution be damned. Besides, I’m Dante Argyris. Crossing me is the path to certain death. If she toyed with me, aside from the way I wanted her to, there’d be hell to pay.
We stepped up to the door of my suite, and I tapped the key card to the metal strip. A green light flashed, and I guided her forward with my palm against her lower back. She crossed the foyer into the main room and walked around, viewing my suite. I wanted to head straight for the bedroom, but my demon’s appetite craved something different. Something else. It took me a second to realize what it was: the buildup. The desire to savor this moment.
"This is incredible.” She stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, admiring the expansive city view. “Reno actually looks beautiful from up here.”
Everything about this moment was perfection, except for the hand she had wrapped protectively around her waist.
Was she having doubts? No way. I could smell the desire rolling off of her, and yet, her mood seemed to shift. Rife with lust but something else. Something I couldn't quite peg. When she turned back toward me, the uncertainty had vanished and the gorgeous temptress remained.
“Would you like another drink?"
"Sure. Surprise me."
I poured her a glass of rosé and myself another scotch—the way I had ordered it earlier but didn't receive. Neat. No ice.
As I reached her side, Ivy turned and the edges of her full lips crooked into a seductive smile. This close I could smell jasmine and honeysuckle on her flesh.
Shit, I was a lost man.
I offered her the glass of wine, but she narrowed her eyes and smirked as she plucked the scotch from my other hand. She inhaled slow and deep before she brought it to her lips and took a drink.
“That was for me,” I said, grinning at her brazen attitude.
"Do you like rosé?”
“No.”
She tipped the glass and downed the last of my scotch. “Me neither.”
The pulse at the nape of her neck beat rhythmically, and I had the strongest desire to cover the sweet spot with my lips. To taste her soft skin and pull a moan from her perfect mouth. She set the tumbler down and moved over to the desk. Her fingers traced a weathered spine as she thumbed through the free books on the shelf.
"You like books?" I asked.
The seductress smiled and clucked her lips, waving a hand from side to side as if to say no-no-no-no. "Who doesn't like books?"
"You’d be surprised. Personally, I love the feel of holding a book in my hands. There’s nothing like a great novel to keep you company when you’re lonely or in need of an escape."
She tipped her head playfully. “Are you in need of an escape?”
“Aren’t we all?”
Her humor faded slightly, and she looked down toward the books again. "There is no escape."
“Of course there is.”
“No.” She shook her head, “Not really.”
What made her feel so trapped?
As if reading my thoughts, she answered my unspoken question. "I have two sisters who depend on me and far too many . . . responsibilities to dwell on things.”
"Responsibilities?"
She glanced at me but didn't answer.
It was nice to talk to a woman who seemed truly interested in me and not just my money or power. I wanted to know everything she would tell me, but I also needed to warn her about giving so much about herself so freely.
"You shouldn’t speak this openly to strangers.”
She laughed. “What am I, six?”
“Being cautious isn’t childish. In our world, it’s necessary. I have no ill intent toward you, but someone else out there might. ‘Trust no one’ has been my motto for some time."
"I can see why you need the books."
I grinned, but it was true. A life like mine required sacrifice. My relationships were limited to the very rare and few.
She continued on. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I have someone who watches me. Keeps me from any real harm." Her voice was quiet, far away. Disconnected.
My demon growled pr
otectively. Who was this “someone” she referred to? And why did she say “watches me” not watches over me?
What was she hiding?
I had every intention of finding out, but she stepped into me, and all rational thought flew out the window.
Her body rested a breath from mine, and I stiffened as a surge of hungry desire raged under my calm exterior. She looked up, her brown eyes studying every angle of my face. Deep, penetrating and surprisingly innocent. I could get lost in their depths and forget all the warning signs.
Hell, I could ignore the end of the world if she touched me right now. It didn’t matter where or how, just as long as she did it.
But under all her innocent beauty lurked something dark. I sensed it the second I saw her. Something had a grip on her, blackening her otherwise pure soul. The darkness inside was almost as tempting as the woman it held prisoner. Intoxicating, it reached for me with its inky tendrils. What if those shadows consumed her last ounce of innocence, like my own? I knew what happened when the creature chipped away at the soul. It was a hard and cruel reality check I couldn't let happen to her. I had to protect her. I wasn't sure why or, hell, even how.
"What does this person ask of you in exchange for their protection?"
A shadow crossed her seductive eyes. "Nothing I don't have to give," she answered.
It was only a fraction of a second, but long enough for me to catch a glimpse into her innermost thoughts. Fear. Imprisonment. Captivity. She wasn't being protected so much as she was owned. Someone's property.
A long time ago, another’s chains had held me captive in a similar way. I barely knew Ivy, but I didn’t want the same for her. She deserved to be free. Free to command her own life. Not used for the vast power storming within her blood. Did she even realize just how much magic she held? I doubted it. If she had, she would’ve freed herself by now.
"Has anyone ever cared for you without asking something in return?" I asked.
Years of pent-up rage mingled with her silence. She moved back toward the window and I followed. Her eyes cast down to the crystal blue waters of the hotel’s pool, distant and cool. A group of humans flailed about, drunk and insolent.
Her pain was old and deep. It surprised me how the darkness hadn't consumed her already; then again, there was something special about her. It probably had to do with all her unharnessed power. How had she not gone full dark and exploded already—a supernova of magic and angst?
I wanted her to come back to me. Gently, I wrapped my hand around her wrist, rubbing my thumb along her flesh to coax her attention.
I waited, giving her all the time she needed to decide what she wanted and didn't want to share.
“That’s not the kind of life I have, Dante.”
She didn’t elaborate, but fury from years of suffering seethed in those few words.
A foreign sensation formed in my chest. Pain, sharp and maddening.
Before I could stop myself, I pulled her close and lifted her chin, so I could look directly into those dark depths.
"You don't have to hurt anymore, darling. I can take it all away."
How, you idiot? How could I make such an empty promise but feel the weight of it in my bones and know full well I would keep it?
"Don’t pity me," she said.
"You think this is pity?"
She tried to step away from me, but I caged her in with my body. “I want to help you.”
“Help me?” She crossed her arms and her defenses flung right back up. “Do I have ‘charity case’ written on my forehead?”
“Not at all, but I’ve been where you are. I can help.”
“Oh yeah?” She laughed, but not in humor, “And what’s your price?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing is free and there is no escape. Not from the cage I’m in.” She snatched a tube of lipstick out of her pocket and dabbed it on.
“Ivy . . .”
“No more talking.” She grabbed my neck and slammed her lips into mine. A lightning bolt of energy arced and raced through me. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pressed her even further into me and deepened the kiss.
Hungry, I devoured her, inhaling her erotic scent and savoring the warmth she emanated. I blazed a trail of soft kisses down her jaw, to her sweet spot on her neck. She brought my mouth back to hers and bit down. Blood seeped out of my lower lip and my demon roared with molten desire. I grabbed her hips and lifted her off the ground, ready to take this straight to the bedroom.
A banging against the door interrupted my descent of her body.
“Who the hell?"
A nasally voice boomed from the other side.
Jacoby.
The piece-of-shit had just caused me to reach the end of my patience. My lust-fueled desire morphed into rage, and I released Ivy from my arms. That asshole had just ruined one of the best nights I’d had in a while. My demon, unforgiving, prepared to annihilate him and anyone he’d brought.
Chapter 6
Ivy
"Get in the bathroom." Dante grabbed my arm, pushing me toward it. "And lock the door.”
I twisted out of his grip. "I can take care of myself."
Briefly surprised by my strength, he shook his head. "No doubt. But all the same, you don't want to mess with these assholes.”
He tried to shuffle me toward the door again, but I held my ground. “I’m not hiding like some scared child while you play the hero.”
“Maybe you’ve faced down some bad guys, but trust me when I say, you don’t know these people. If you want to see your sisters again, you'd better get your ass somewhere safe. Now."
"Fine," I grumbled, making my way to the balcony. "Have it your way."
"Where the hell are you—" he asked, but I was already scaling the balcony railing.
“Getting ‘my ass’ somewhere safe.”
“Wait.” He called out. “When will I see you again?”
“In your dreams.” I winked and dropped out of view.
Bastian had made sure Dante and I stayed on the same side of the building, a few floors apart, which made for a quick and easy exit. I tightened my grip on the wrought iron railing and clambered down the side of the hotel, grateful for the close proximity.
I could hear banging and shouting. Shit. If this whole caper got blown up because of some old enemies of Dante's barging in . . . I guess Bastian couldn't blame me. But it would be a lot of wasted effort on my part.
Grunting, I glanced down long enough to judge the distance between my foot and the next railing. Ugh. Too far. An ordinary girl would probably worry about shattering her ankle, but I just needed to make sure I could keep a firm grip.
I let myself down a little farther. I wasn't quite hanging on by my fingertips, but I was getting too damn close.
If only Jade could see me now.
Just as my grip started to get iffy I flexed my foot and sensed the metal beneath me, solid and reassuring. I slipped my foot behind it, then the other, carefully walking my hands down the thankfully rough surface of the outer wall. When I finally gripped the railing with my hands to steady myself, I let out a sigh of relief.
One floor down, one to go.
The patio door in front of me jiggled.
Well, shit. So much for catching my breath.
I quickly wiped my hands on my dress and grabbed the railing, repeating the same process. The door slid open just as I gripped the bottom of the patio. I took a risk and jumped.
At first, I had the balance I needed, but then my foot slipped. Cursing, I pitched forward and grabbed for the railing with both hands, landing sideways and barely avoiding an embarrassing visit to the emergency room by taking the brunt of the railing to the softest part of my butt.
I rolled onto my own patio with a decidedly unsexy wheeze.
And then I realized I'd left the balcony door locked.
But, when you were outfitted by Bastian Inc., nothing was ever really locked.
I unstrapped my utility kit from my t
high and got to work.
* * *
It was almost four in the morning when I’d glanced at the clock again. The prime time for mischief, Violet would say. I’d rather be getting ready to take a steaming bath with fresh ginger shavings, elderberries, and burning sage to clear the negative energy from my space. Instead, I’m about to transform into her and rob an insanely hot supernatural with far too much power.
I shuffled and reshuffled the deck of cards housekeeping had helpfully provided. I didn't know if they were supposed to be for gambling practice or something to pass the time while you waited for your expensive hookers to arrive. This place was far out of my wheelhouse. There wasn't a rattling fridge filled with bottles of Bud Light anywhere in sight.
But I had a job to do. The psychic channel I'd opened with Dante told me he was still here and still safe. I sensed his presence, and he wasn't distressed anymore. Hell if I knew how. I didn't really want to know what had happened to the guys who were pounding on his door.
I didn't want to know what would happen to me if I got caught.
But I wasn't going to get caught.
I stared at the lights of the city and the passing cars, small enough to look like toys from up here. There were a lot of people still wide awake, but Dante wasn't one of them. I could feel it.
I glanced over at the clock on the wall. The long hand ticked over . . . once, twice. It was time to quit stalling.
I had to do this.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
At first, I focused on the soft sound of the ticking clock. I let my surroundings melt away, until I could no longer feel the smooth glass of the coffee table under my fingers. I breathed steady and slow. I opened my mind to the awareness of the otherworld lurking beyond the edges of my vision.
I drew a breath in this world and exhaled it in the next.
It was hard to describe exactly how I knew. I'd experienced the shadow form of my succubus once before, but the feeling was unmistakable. The hotel still existed, just as it did in my human world, but it was like a dim reflection of itself.
