by RJ Blain
I lifted my hands to my head, sucking in a breath when I touched the cold metal of a crown. I frowned, leaned over, and peered at my reflection in the polished glass.
In ancient times, pharaohs wore the cobra crown of gold and blue to war. The khepresh made sense; in a way, I meant to wage war, and I appreciated my magic’s honesty. Unlike the traditional khepresh, my cobra rose from the golden base in silver, and lapis lazuli inlays decorated the cobra’s hood and eyes.
It weighed far less than the sweeping, monstrous crown representative of Egypt’s might. I smiled, for I wore a war crown suiting modern times, reflecting my reality and my heritage in a perfect meld of old and new. Unless I did some research, I wouldn’t be able to fully untangle what was modern, but I decided it didn’t matter. Past and present mixed together made me who I was, and I enjoyed when my magic acknowledged the reality of my situation.
Straightening, I took a few moments to smooth my kalasiris. “I’m ready.”
Malcolm’s gaze swept over me. “You’re radiant.”
“That’s a different crown,” I quipped, struggling to hide my smile. I failed. “This one isn’t nearly as nice.”
“Oh?”
“You’ll see,” I promised.
My altruistic streak landed me into too much trouble, but if I could help Malcolm at little cost to myself, I would. As long as I had a say in the matter, he’d be free to choose who he loved, the curse be damned.
No one deserved to be chained into a loveless marriage, not even him. I’d use my talent at burning bridges for his benefit, and I’d enjoy every minute of it.
We explored the museum, and I took childish delight in the exhibits ranging from the deepest oceans to petrified forests. A little bit of everything graced the museum’s hallowed halls, and in a detour from the natural, one gallery focused on ancient Egypt and her pharaohs. King Tutankhamun’s mummy took the front row seat, and the Gilded Lady accompanied him in all her glory. While far more gruesome than his royal companions, Ginger also took a place of honor in the display.
Ginger interested me the most, as he lacked the trappings of the rich and famous, and was believed to be one of the first known cases of mummification, although I wondered if his remarkable state had been an accident.
“They’re spectacular, aren’t they?” Malcolm leaned forward to get a better look at the world’s oldest Egyptian mummy. “Do you know why he doesn’t have a death mask?”
“He wasn’t from a higher caste, I presume.”
“What about you? If you were mummified per Egyptian tradition, how would you be buried?”
I pointed at Ginger. “Lowest of the low. Bastards like me aren’t even recognized as people in Egypt; illegitimate children aren’t issued birth certificates. So, I’d be interred like Ginger. Though, to be honest, I have no idea how Egyptians are buried nowadays.”
“Charming.” Malcolm straightened, leaned towards me, and whispered, “There’s a gentleman to the right who keeps staring at you. He’s made two phone calls, watching you the entire time. Know him? He’s wearing a red and gray suit, looks like he came dressed as a prohibition mobster.”
I glanced out of the corner of my eye.
With a touch of gray in his black hair and a dark tan betraying his Middle Eastern heritage, Isaac Asfour was one of the three businessmen I’d fled from as a teen. Then, he’d been thirty-two and openly lecherous enough to frighten me—and make it clear what he wanted in a young wife.
My blood ran cold in my veins. “I know him.”
“And? Who is he?”
I swallowed. The shaking started in my hands, crept up my arms, and worked through me until my entire body trembled. “He’s one of the three men my aunt considered betrothing me to in exchange for money. Isaac Asfour, a local businessman.”
“Seems like I’m not the only one with marriage woes.”
If I shook any harder, everyone in the museum would notice something was amiss, and I sucked in breaths through my clenched teeth until I could speak without my voice wavering. “He’s the reason I left home.”
I wouldn’t call it running away. I’d salvage that much of my dignity and pride.
Malcolm eased closer to me, turning his attention back to Ginger, although his body tensed. “What sort of business does he run?”
I shrugged and leaned forward with him, feigning interest in the mummy, too. “I haven’t kept track of him, but back then, he dealt with stocks and real estate. I don’t know the specifics, but my aunt liked him because he was talking about paying up to a million for me.”
Huffing, Malcolm shook his head. “What a cheapskate. You’re worth far more than that. Does he know what you are?”
“No. I hadn’t had my first shift yet.”
“Well, he can’t touch you with me around. Just stay close. If he tries anything, I’ll take care of him.” Malcolm eased his arm around me, placing his palm on the small of my back. In a louder voice, he said, “Shall we take a closer look at King Tut?”
We already had, but I didn’t mind a repeat, especially if it meant I got some distance from Asfour. “Sure.”
While we browsed the exhibit, Asfour watched me, just like Malcolm had claimed, and the feel of the man’s attention pricked the back of my neck. It took all my will to keep from bolting for the door and running for the next state.
“He’s definitely following you.” Malcolm scowled, and he drummed his fingers against my back. “Do you trust me to take care of him? You’ll have to play along.”
“I’m asking you to trust me about Caitlin,” I reminded him.
“True. I need two things from you to make this work.”
“What?” I’d take off my clothes and jump Malcolm with an audience if it meant Asfour would go away and leave me alone for the rest of eternity.
Malcolm didn’t need to know that.
“That devil friend of yours—the teleporter. Can you convince him to do you a favor?”
I winced. “He doesn’t do favors. He bargains.”
“I’ll pay him, but I’d like him to show up and play pretend for a few minutes.”
When Malcolm learned what he was asking me, he’d kill me for bargaining with the devil again. “Play pretend as what?”
“Your brother.”
I lifted my brows. “My brother?”
“I know how men like Asfour tick. They’re territorial until a bigger shark claims the turf. If you can claim kinship with a devil, he won’t make any moves until he investigates the situation—and find out why he hadn’t been told you have a devil for a relative. It’d buy you time, and once we’re out of here, he’ll have to face me on my turf.”
The implication Asfour would hunt for me after the gala worried me even more than his close proximity. “You assume he’ll make a move.”
“He’s looking at you like you’re a broodmare in season—one that he owns. He’ll make a move.”
I swallowed several times so I wouldn’t throw up. “All right. And the second thing you need?”
“Don’t question me when I make my move. Just go with it, no matter how angry I make you.”
Damn it. He played my game against me with equal finesse. If my living nightmare wasn’t stalking me through the museum, I would’ve stopped to enjoy his ploy.
“Give me my phone.”
Malcolm retrieved my cell from his pouch and handed it to me. Calling would expose his idea too soon, so I sent the devil several texts explaining the situation and asked how much cash he’d charge to play along.
My phone rang moments after I sent the last message. “Kanika.”
“If the pest is nearby, say okay and listen,” the Lord of Lies ordered.
“Okay.”
“I can be at the American Museum of National History in five minutes, but it won’t be as your brother. The price is for you to accept the role of my choosing without question.”
“What is it about men demanding I don’t ask questions?” I muttered beneath my breath.
> Apparently, I hadn’t muttered quietly enough, as the devil laughed. “Smart women with smarter mouths are the most dangerous of creatures. Do we have a deal?”
I hoped whispering would be enough to keep Asfour unaware of Malcolm’s plan. “What about the cash?”
“Oh, fine. He’ll owe me five dollars for my assistance.”
“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”
“Probably. Lure the man to the most crowded part of the museum and wait for me there. Remember, five minutes.”
Why couldn’t I do anything the normal way? Making yet another deal with the devil classified me as a desperate idiot. Still, if I had to choose between Isaac Asfour and eternal damnation, I only had one thing to say: Hail Satin, Lord of Hell.
The choice was a no-brainer for me. Death and the devil over Asfour without question.
“Okay,” I confirmed.
“Bargain made. I’ll see you soon, cupcake. I’ll bring the wife along for the fun.” Satin hung up.
Why me? I sighed and gave Malcolm my phone. “You owe him five.”
“Hundred? Thousand? Hundred thousand? Million? Billion’s pushing it, but I’ll deal if necessary. Five what?”
My train of thought crashed into a brick wall, and it took me a shamefully long time to recover. Malcolm would deal with paying five billion to help me? “Five dollars,” I choked out.
Malcolm blinked. “That’s it?”
“That’s it, that’s all.” I gulped. “We're to go to the most crowded place in the museum and lure him there.”
“The Grand Gallery. People like the cafe and the exhibit, plus it has plenty of space.” With his hand still on my back, he guided me through the exhibits, taking a single look to confirm Asfour followed us. “He’s really only charging me five dollars?”
“I’m paying most of the bargain,” I confessed.
“What’s his price?”
“I’m not allowed to question the role he picks. He didn’t like the brother idea. He’s also bringing his wife.”
“He’s married? Huh. That’s unusual for a devil. Marriage is more up a demon’s alley. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
So was he. I’d have to do some digging to find out how he’d learned so much about devils and demons, since nothing I’d seen of him implied he did more than work with them sometimes.
We entered the Grand Gallery, and Malcolm sucked in a breath. “There’s Caitlin; she’s wearing the yellow dress with the black feather headpiece.”
I spotted his former lover near the canoe serving as the exhibit’s centerpiece. With copper hair, blue eyes, and porcelain skin splashed with freckles, she seemed like the sort of woman who made demands and got her way while men worshipped the ground she walked on. Even when imitating Bastet on my best day, I couldn’t compare.
I didn’t even come close.
I had one thing on her, though. A few sandwiches and a couple of chocolate cakes would do her a world of good. I could count her ribs through her dress, and I wondered how Malcolm hadn’t broken her in half. I took a step away from him, turning until his hand rested on my hip. “We need to have a talk about your taste in women. That can’t be healthy. How could you touch her without breaking her in half?”
“Very carefully. The only number she likes is zero. She also hates wearing the same thing twice. That said, she can be nice.”
A nice woman didn’t emotionally abuse her lover and torment him, but I’d fight that battle with him another day. I had a better one to fight, one that would compromise some of my morals. “For the record, I’m rather durable.”
Malcolm’s startled laugh captured the attention of everyone in the room. Turning to face us, Caitlin targeted a glare at him, then her eyes widened in recognition. “Malcolm? You actually came?”
In any other environment, her deliberate refusal to acknowledge me would’ve counted as rude, especially when her former lover had his hand resting on my hip with no sign of moving anytime soon. I was almost tempted to shift my weight so he’d put his hand somewhere a bit softer and a lot less appropriate. She’d learn her mistake soon.
She approached, and I waited until she was close before I graced Malcolm with my best smile.
“Darling,” I murmured, lifting my hand and pressing my palm against the breastplate of his armor. “Is she the woman I need to thank?”
Malcolm could play ball, and so could I, and I meant to push hard until his ex figured out she wasn’t included in our party of two.
His eyes widened, but he recovered and smiled back at me. I gave him full points for his acting skills—and the heat in his eyes promised trouble for someone, probably me. “Kanika, this is Caitlin Murray, the heiress of Clan Murray. It’s been a while, Caitlin.”
“Too long,” my new rival replied, her gaze flicking in my direction before gluing back on Malcolm. “Have you finally come to your senses?”
I held my breath, hoping he’d take hold of the opportunity I’d built for him.
“You might say that.”
I chuckled at the subtle way he misled his former lover. “You must come to these parties often, Caitlin.”
Caitlin’s gaze dipped to where my hand rested over Malcolm’s heart. Mine, my touch declared, and the woman’s expression soured. “Who are you again? I’m sorry. I’ve never seen you before, and as you say, I do come to these parties often.”
Had I cared about the opinions of the rich and famous, her words would’ve hurt. Since I couldn’t care less, I grinned and prepared to return fire. “Oh, I’m sure you know how it is. It’s so much work running a business. Right, Malcolm?”
“Very much so. We’ve been busy, Caitlin. I’m pleased you noticed our absence.”
The plural reference worked like a charm; Caitlin’s eyes narrowed, and she turned her glare to me. “This man is mine.”
Malcolm stiffened, and I relaxed, leaning towards him, drumming my fingers against his breastplate. “Oh? I don’t think he got the memo, dear.” I widened my eyes, feigning some realization or another. “That reminds me, Malcolm. Will we be back home in time for my desk? I’d like to get my home office set up so I can stop leaving my work in our bedroom.”
Had I not witnessed it with my own eyes, I never would’ve believed Caitlin was capable of paling.
Malcolm chuckled, a deep, sensual sound I found far too intriguing for my own good. “We’ll be back in time.”
“Good. I hate keeping you awake on nights I have to work late.”
“You know how much I don’t like it when you’re not close to me.”
Too bad we were a farce, as I liked the idea of someone wanting me around like that. I returned my attention to my intended target. “How could you let such a fine man go, Caitlin? Seriously, thank you. He’s such a gentleman.”
“Him, a gentleman?” Scorn darkened the woman’s tone, and her expression twisted into something so ugly it amazed me I’d ever thought of her as pretty. “Cute, Malcolm. This must be your pathetic attempt to pay me back for last time. Fine. I apologize. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“He better be a gentleman to my little girl,” the Lord of Lies and Master of Hell declared from behind me. “As if I would allow just any man to wed my daughter and heir.”
Oh hell no. My mouth dropped open, and a strangled squeak emerged.
“Tsk, tsk, cupcake,” Satin warned, patting my shoulder. “You promised.”
Oh my holy god, what had I done? I snapped my teeth together so I wouldn’t scream at having been so thoroughly caught in a trap of my own making—and giving the devil the leeway to make his move without worrying about me protesting his sick and demented choice of roles in my life. “Oh, it’s you.”
“It’s me,” the devil replied, striding forward.
With all pretenses of humanity abandoned, Mephistopheles loomed over everyone at ten feet tall, a nightmare given flesh, black beauty married to lethality. If I squinted and tilted my head, he resembled an oversized, muscular human w
ith leathery wings tipped with dark feathers.
Flames licked from his horns and sheathed his body, serving as clothes. Instead of feet, the sharpened points of his cloven hooves dug into his floor, his weight cracking the tiles.
A succubus stood at his side. She wore a kalasiris a lot like mine, although the silk of hers was darker than the night, a perfect match for her husband.
“Now, what’s this nonsense, son?” The devil’s gaze landed on Malcolm, and his eyes gleamed with a golden light. “Seems like you have some explaining to do.”
Malcolm stood firm in the presence of the devil, and I admired his lack of fear. With a faint smile, he reached into his pouch, pulled out a five dollar bill, and held it out. “Caitlin doesn’t quite understand what ex means, sir.”
Satin claimed the bill and offered it to his wife. “They have those disgustingly sweet coffees you so love here, my dear.”
With a soft laugh, the succubus claimed the money. “And miss all the fun? Now you’re the one spouting nonsense. I’ll get one before we head home.”
While Malcolm had stood firm before Mephistopheles, Caitlin flinched when the devil’s gaze landed on her. “I recommend you invest in a dictionary. Ex means if you come between my heir and the man she’s hunting, I’ll enjoy exterminating you like the bug you are. Also, while you’re looking up new words, I recommend you learn the definition of food. It’s important for you mortals.”
Ouch. I cracked my elbow into the devil’s ribs, relieved when the flames didn’t burn me. “Body shaming is rude. Aren’t you supposed to be the Lord of Lies?”
The devil snorted and shot a glare at me. Miraculously, I survived his wrath. “I can’t let any of my incubi play with her if she doesn’t put on a few pounds and build some muscle. She’d break. Then my incubi would feel guilty and come crying to me, and I can’t stand when they whine because their latest toy broke. It’s for her own good. She’s half a pound away from hospitalization. I was being nice. You always complain when I’m not nice, but when I’m nice, you complain.”