by Jane Cousins
The plan was beautiful in its simplicity. Seduce the Demon for information on how to escape this plush hellhole and use him for uncomplicated - satisfy this annoying ache - sex.
What could possibly go wrong?
* * *
Galen exited the bathroom, his hair still damp from the shower, rubbing absently at the day’s growth of beard that graced his jawline. After centuries of mimicking humans, Conflict Demons were all but indistinguishable from the human race. Their hair and nails grew. They ate, sweat, and got addicted to TV shows.
They were just a little on the larger side across the board height wise and sturdier of frame. More often then not dedicating themselves to occupations that involved a lot of potential for drama. Parking inspectors. Airline check-in attendants. IT helpdesk operators. Bankers. And any kind of work available in the world of sports. Game days, ah, the conflict could be intoxicating when two rival teams clashed.
The one thing a Conflict Demon specialised in was understanding what made people tick and when it suited them, stabbing down on specific hot buttons for an all you can eat conflict inducing buffet of emotions.
He’d only taken four steps into the main cavern when all of Galen’s instincts went into hyper alert mode, signalling danger, danger, DANGER. Shit. He fought hard to keep his body language relaxed and not react. Perhaps he was overthinking this, quickly assessing the glaring anomalies.
The table was set for two. The smell of grilling steaks pervaded the air. Whilst Stephanie was standing in the kitchen, cutting and chopping salad ingredients.
Hmmm, there was no law against the woman deciding to wear a dress. A short, strapless number, with large navy, pink and white stripes. It brought out the blue of her eyes and made her blonde hair, pulled up into her usual high, slick ponytail, look silky as it brushed against bared shoulders. It went without saying that the strappy pink sandals went with the dress.
Yes, all that could be dismissed as of little consequence. Perhaps the Valkyrie was bored. Perhaps she’d had a craving for steak and liked to dress up for dinner occasionally.
But then she looked up and smiled at him. Galen’s thoughts blanked for a split second in stupefaction. By the Pits, Stephanie didn’t need her war hatchets to slay the enemy in droves, all she had to do was gift them with that wide, friendly grin, and they’d drop to their knees in worship.
Luckily Galen’s inner Demon chose that moment to claw at him. A surge of need and lust assaulting him, thankfully shocking him out of his dazed state. Stamping down ultra hard on the arousal assailing him, Galen managed to pull his lips back in what he hoped was a smile. It cost him but he managed to avert his gaze from Stephanie, concentrating on the sleeves of his navy and white check shirt, focusing hard upon rolling them up.
It was official, the Valkyrie had just declared war.
He didn’t know what she wanted or needed. If it was money, he had loads. If she required someone killed, he was her guy. Perhaps she just needed some furniture moved. She just needed to tell him whatever it was she wanted, and… fucking, bloody hell. Was he really going to roll over and expose his metaphorical belly just because she smiled once in his direction?
There were much larger stakes at play here. If he folded now, merely because she smiled, the Valkyrie would never respect him. The only way to win her claim, would be to stay strong. Stay the course. Unfortunately, Stephanie had just changed the playing field and added landmines.
Hmmm, just what was she up to? And why?
Galen was nothing if not a master strategist, and damn good at thinking on his feet. His own plans beginning to shift and change accordingly. He would play along, find out what she was up to, and turn the tables to his own advantage. Which was not selfish. He was doing all of this for Stephanie’s sake as much as his own.
He recognised bone deep that they were soul mates, meant to be together. The perfect foil for each other in all ways. Galen already knew Stephanie had gaps in her life. She worked too hard. Her focus absolute to the point of too often hurting herself. She needed to know someone in this world supported and loved her, wanting only the best for her. That her focus, while admirable, should be balanced with other things that were currently missing from her world. Say a life off the battlefield. And regular hot, hot sex with a Conflict Demon who would worship her daily, more often, if she was in the mood.
In the meantime, Galen just needed to get one prickly Valkyrie, with an all too obvious sneaky plan up her non existent sleeve, to tell him what the hell had changed in the last few hours. Then he would use that information to adjust his own strategy.
Yes, trick the Valkyrie into telling him what he needed to know. Though that might prove to be more difficult than he first thought as he watched her bounce across to the table and set down a large bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Gifting him with another smile as she twisted off the cap and began pouring a rather hefty amount into a glass before holding it out in his direction in clear invitation.
Shit, her tactics were becoming clearer by the second. The smiles. The body hugging dress. All that bouncing and now she apparently intended to get him drunk. Lucifer save him, she was going to try and seduce him in order to get whatever it was she was after. Fucking hell, he bit back a groan. Tonight had the potential to step up to a whole new level of torture.
First unmated Knustabber flaring. Now the Valkyrie. It was like someone down there both loathed and loved his ass.
Hold on, this might work to his advantage. Let her think the alcohol was impacting him. Set out a few baited hooks and she might readily part with the information he needed to know if she thought him too inebriated to take advantage of it.
His new plan was simple and direct. Find out what the hell kind of game his Valkyrie was playing at. Then use said information to exploit any and all means necessary to highlight to Stephanie that he was her mate. That the two of them were destined to be together.
Yeah, totally easy. Only one little problem might stand in his way. Sex. If the Valkyrie actively, seriously tried to seduce him? Shit, his will-power was shaky as it was. Given the close quarters and his inner Demon’s never ending clawing need. No, no, he just needed to remain focused on the stakes here, his sanity and their future happiness.
No matter what happened here tonight, sex was not an option. Damn it.
Getting hot between the sheets with Stephanie? It would be a dream come true. But he realised now that a physical union, while so fucking tempting, would not win him the Valkyrie’s heart. It was too soon. She still didn’t trust him… even know him yet. It wasn’t like he was asking for the impossible, surely. He only needed one gorgeous Valkyrie to lower her guard and let him in… to her life, her world, her heart.
Lesser men would have been daunted by such a challenge, Galen had nothing to lose except what was already on the line; his sanity, his future, his life. Yeah, so bring on the tricks, Valkyrie, he was a Conflict Demon with nothing left to lose… except the woman of his dreams. Fuck, bring on the whiskey.
Chapter Eight
“If you are as proficient with a weapon as you are with your fists, I do not understand why you are not out there fighting shoulder to shoulder with your brethren?”
“You have met my kin, right?” Galen cut into his perfectly prepared steak and took another bite. The woman could grill.
“Yes.” Stephanie frowned, waiting for him to elaborate and then got the joke, her lips lifting in a small smile. “Then why would you come on this corporate retreat, if you had no intention of joining in?”
Corporate retreat? Bloody Kaleb was going to write this shin dig off on his tax returns. Canny bastard. “It was a choice between two evils. Funnily, this little campaign was the lesser of the two.”
“You consider your wife evil?” Hah, she’d totally subtly worked that question into the conversation.
“Wife?” Galen’s eyes widened for a moment before he shook his head. “No. No wife or significant evil other in my life.” Yet. But he didn’t tack on th
at last word and the Lord Lucifer willing, he was sitting across from his future significant other. “Just… life getting complicated.”
The strange tightness in Stephanie’s shoulders dissipated along with the bolts of heated rage that had been shooting through her gut. Galen wasn’t attached. Not that it mattered. But in order to understand an adversary it paid to study them. That’s all she was doing. Looking for his weaknesses and strengths. Nothing to see here but a Valkyrie trying to identify the most convenient kill spot. “Complicated how?”
Galen put his cutlery down, sighing heavily, making a production of reaching over to pick up his generously poured drink. He didn’t raise it to his lips though. It was an old trick a politician had taught him decades ago. Deliberately pausing, only drinking when your companion mirrored your actions. Getting them to unconsciously match you.
Stephanie took a sip from her own glass, he did likewise. If she wanted him drunk, she was going to be coming along for the ride.
“In your intel regarding Conflict Demons, was there any mention of the Knustabber phase?”
“It’s a disease, right? I heard there is a whole Battalion afflicted. That they fight like mindless, relentless savages. We had been hoping some might be here so we could test ourselves against them.”
“They make up the Queen’s Berserker Battalion, and are incredibly difficult to corral or control. They are stationed on our Western Front, facing off against the relentless Morghdorn Horde. A repellent and numerous foe. And no, it’s not a disease. Knustabber is a stage of development for the male of my kind.”
“Why are you telling me about it?” Stephanie started on her accompanying salad.
“I have it.”
“Have what?”
“Knustabber. I have it.”
Stephanie’s hand automatically tightened around her steak knife, her whole body tensing, ready. “Are you trying to warn me you are about to turn Berserker?”
Galen laughed, and then laughed some more.
Damn, little tingles of bubbling heat immediately made themselves known low in Stephanie’s body. It was a little distracting and it took a brief second for her to shake off the affects and remember she was on a fact finding mission here. “I’ll take that as a no, on the berserker front. So what does it mean? You say you have this… condition?”
“Knustabber is considered a natural stage of a male Conflict Demon’s evolution. Once he is claimed by a mate, soon after, the Knustabber phase hits, usually within a week of melding. Basically it forges the man and inner Demon into two equal parts. All internal conflict resolved once and for all. The process upgrades the male three-fold so he is stronger, more readily able to defend his mate and future offspring.”
“But…?” He wouldn’t be telling her about this if there wasn’t one coming.
“Occasionally a male like myself, who is not mated, is triggered. Suddenly there is an imbalance, the inner Demon seeks to exert total dominance. It started about six months ago, I began showing symptoms. My taste buds were blunted, causing me to feed more often and voraciously. Bouts of irrational anger. High levels of impatience. My control is constantly being tested. I’m currently in stage one of the condition. But there is no cure on record.”
Stephanie’s gut roiled, she didn’t like the sound of where this was going. “It can kill you, this condition, if you are unmated?”
“There are two options open to me. Do nothing, continue to devolve. Final stage - stabby - as most of us call unmated Knustabber, occurs when the inner Demon takes total control. I would… will, be nothing but a raving, raging, killing machine. Shipped off to join the Queen’s Berserkers, to fight for eternity in her name.”
Stephanie couldn’t imagine the urbane and cool Demon before her regressing to such a state. It would be a waste of his wits and all that charm. Though she had no doubt he would make a formidable Berserker. “And the other option?” Absently she picked up her glass, pleased to note that Galen was doing the same. Plying him with alcohol was already loosening his tongue, more could only help.
“I miraculously find my mate, and experience Knustabber as Lucifer intended. Failing that, I submit to a forced melding. The Queen’s Shamans will use magic to stave off the condition by anchoring me to a female who is willing to accept a muted mating bond. I would experience a loss of physical strength, as my inner Demon is subdued, bound. I would be me, but lesser.”
“You… what? I don’t understand.”
“The reason I’m here, all my brethren are here, it’s not a corporate event. My Queen has given me a two-week deadline. At the end of which she insists I choose a non-meld mate. In effect, you could say this is my buck’s weekend. One that lasts for eight weeks on this plane.”
All Stephanie could hear was a weird roaring sound as her gut churned violently, threatening to send back up all she’d just eaten. Hold on, Galen wasn’t finished talking, what was that?
“That’s why I’m holed up here. Desperately attempting to come up with a plan to avoid either turning full on stabby, or being forced into an arranged, loveless marriage.”
Stephanie wondered what plan he’d come up with but she found herself asking instead. “What’s she like?”
“Who like?”
“The Demoness you are going to marry.” Stephanie was already imagining the sound the female’s neck would make when she snapped it.
Galen’s broad shoulders shrugged. “No idea.”
“What do you mean, no idea? You said you intend to marry soon. There must be a Demoness out there right at this moment having last minute dress fittings, and trying to decide where to sit your annoying Great-Uncle what’s-his-face.”
Galen pushed away his empty plate before picking up his glass, absently noting Stephanie unconsciously mirror his actions and lift her own glass to drink. “My Queen has decided to hold a party where all the suitable candidates will be gathered, I’m expected to make my choice and to close the evening out, the vows will be exchanged there and then.”
“You… seriously?” This wasn’t some elaborate hoax? No, those ink black eyes shimmered with the first heat she had seen in them for days. The Demon was angry, seething in fact. How had he managed to hide that from her? “What are you going to do?”
“Good question. I have yet to come up with an answer. Lucky for me, on this plane, I have over six more weeks to run through potential options. Plus, there’s always drinking.” He raised his glass in a silent toast, watching Stephanie raise her own and toss back the contents. He quickly refilled both their glasses, hoping she wouldn’t realise that while her glass was empty, his was still half full. “So what about you?”
“What about me what?”
“Any significant others, bloodline curses, or obsessive enemies I should be aware of?”
“No.”
Galen’s left eyebrow rose briefly, expressing his disbelief.
“What? Sorry. I’m a Valkyrie. What you see is what you get.”
“Right. So what about that bout of conflict that sank its teeth into you a few days ago?”
Stephanie attempted to shrug casually but could feel all the tendons in her neck and shoulders tighten. “It’s nothing.”
Galen leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. “I beg to differ. I know conflict. What I felt emanating from you, that was pressure cooker stuff.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. What ever is going on with you, it’s been happening for some time. But you’ve been doing your best to ignore it, haven’t you? Tamping it down deeper and deeper. If you don’t do something about it eventually, trust me, you are going to blow. And I’ve seen you train with those hatchets of yours, I wouldn’t want to be in the vicinity when the final straw breaks.”
“Please. Do not try and transfer whatever your problems are onto me. I’m not about to go the Valkyrie equivalent of stabby. Any issues I have, I leave on the battlefield. It’s kind of cathartic cutting a swathe through your enemies
, you should try it some time.”
“Oh? So just how long have you been out there in the field?”
“Almost two hundred years now. Which I suppose makes me an expert when it comes to conflict also. Trust me, I am not a pressure cooker or some volcano about to blow.”
“Hmmm.” Galen didn’t respond, just lifted his glass to take a small sip.
“You doubt me?” Stephanie drank also.
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, you made that disagreeing hmmming sound instead. Just say it.”
“Okay, I disagree. And I think, not so deep down, you know I’m right. Whatever is going on with you, it’s not going away. You haven’t been able to shake it, so it’s just piling on, adding more and more to your frustrations, fuelling doubts and dissatisfaction.”
Stephanie frowned, blast, he was right. This feeling of dissatisfaction with how Corporate were running the show, treating the Battle Valkyries and all the support staff, it had been gnawing away at her for at least a decade now.
“I bet you keep hoping if you ignore it, that you will just wake up one day and be like your old self; uncaring, detached, or just gleefully oblivious.”
Grrr, Stephanie fought and won against the urge to shift in her chair. She would not signal how close to the bone Galen was hitting. She had been hoping, praying, she would just miraculously be cured of her discontentment if she ignored it long enough. “Just like you have been ignoring your condition? Here we are, down to the wire, and you still haven’t come up with a solution to your problem, have you? You say you don’t want to turn Berserker or marry some random She-Demon, but what exactly have you been doing for six months to take charge of your future?” Go on the offensive, yes, she was good at that.
The edges of Galen’s lips twisted up in a mocking smile. “Touché. I tell you what, why don’t we team up and work together, help solve each other’s problem?”
