Demon Walking

by Eve Langlais

  “You’re not answering. Holy shit, you did do him?”

  “No. Of course, not.” Although she’d wanted to kiss him. Did that count? “He’s already involved with someone.”

  “I’m gonna wager you can take her.”

  “You mean him. He’s with a lovely older gent named Alfred.”

  “An old dude, eh? Probably wouldn’t take much to get his ticker to explode. I can help if you want.” Babsy took a large sip of her beer and licked the foam from her upper lip.

  The fact that Babette wanted to help murder Alfred to clear the way warmed Elspeth’s heart. “No need to remove anyone. Although I am really beginning to wonder about their relationship.” She pointed her chin in his direction where he sat at the bar. “He’s here.”

  “Which one is it?”

  “The good-looking one. With the dark hair.” Who’d just dragged a woman onto his lap. Elspeth’s nails raked the tabletop.

  “Well, well, looks like someone is a bit of a gigolo when his old man isn’t around.”

  For some reason, this disappointed Elspeth. Whatever happened to true love and commitment? No wonder she was having such a hard time finding The One.

  But she wouldn’t give up. She finished off her fancy water, and Babsy lifted her hand. A moment later, another glass found its way in front of Elspeth. She took a long draw via the straw as she glared in his direction.

  She didn’t even know his name. Probably because he was rude. He’d not introduced himself the day before. Or tonight. The rude jerk gallivanted about town, flirting with a lady while poor Alfred… She didn’t know where Alfred was, but he surely wouldn’t condone this behavior.

  A good thing Alfred had Elspeth to champion him. She would give his master a piece of her mind. Really, cheating on dear, sweet Alfred like that. She took a long sip before getting up from the table.

  “Where are you going?” Babsy asked.

  “To talk to him.”

  “Good luck cock-blocking.”

  Moving closer, even with the music, she could hear the woman giggling. “You’re funny.”

  “It was not my intention to be comical. My motive is purely sexual. I bought you a beverage. Indicated you are acceptably attractive. Shall we adjourn to somewhere more private so that I might perform coitus with you?”

  Elspeth was shocked. More than shocked. Marching over, she stated, loudly enough for the human to hear, “Get away from him. He’s practically a married man. And judging by the ring on your finger, you’re also unavailable. You should both be ashamed.” Elspeth wagged her finger at the pair.

  The handsome devil scowled, making him more good-looking, whereas the woman on his lap frowned. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “His conscience.” Elspeth held herself tall.

  “Nobody,” was his reply.

  The brunette sneered. “Why don’t you fuck off, slut. This bloke is mine.”

  The woman turned her head to plaster her mouth to his, leaving Elspeth to gape.

  Poor Alfred. Surely, chagrin at how the man was being treated was why she felt such rage.

  Rage?

  Oh, dear. Find your happy place. She tried. She truly did. However, that woman, that hussy, kept touching him.

  Elspeth couldn’t find a positive spin. Molten rage bubbled within, melting the effects of her pills and demanding an outlet. The hair-sprayed brown mess in front of her provided an outlet.

  Before she knew it, Elspeth had her fingers wrapped in it, and she’d yanked the woman off his lap.

  “What part of he’s taken did you not grasp?” Elspeth grumbled as she dragged the screeching woman across the room.

  Rip. Left with a handful of hair, she paused and turned to see the woman clutching at her much shorter style.

  “Why, you fucking bitch. Do you have any idea what that weave cost me?”

  “I’d be more concerned about the cost of your self-respect. And what of your marriage? Does no one honor their vows?” Elspeth asked aloud, raising her gaze heavenward. Except the answer wasn’t to be found in the wood-paneled ceiling.

  The cheating Jezebel took that moment to barrel into her, hitting Elspeth in the midsection and driving her into the bar.

  Someone—known as Babette—began chanting. “Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight.”

  How bloodthirsty, when all Elspeth wanted was for the handsome stranger and this woman to have some respect for their partners. Or, at the very least, if he must kiss someone, he could have kissed me.

  But, no. He’d chosen the woman swinging at her.

  Annoying twat.

  Elspeth caught the Jezebel’s fist and held it. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Or what?” snarled the other woman. She swung her other fist. Elspeth dodged it and then snapped one of her own out.

  Crack. The woman dropped to the floor.

  Damned humans and their soft heads.

  A male voice from behind exclaimed, “Hey now, no fighting in my bar.”

  A meaty hand grabbed her by the arm, and Babsy yelled, “Don’t you touch her, buddy.” Then proceeded to jump on his back.

  Given the bartender was at least a foot and a half taller than Babsy—in her human shape—she didn’t quite manage to take him down.

  The bartender whirled, which was kind of comical, given Babsy clung monkey-tight to him. Having ended up by her table again, Elspeth grabbed her glass and drained it.

  Funny how the water warmed her belly. It didn’t usually do that.

  Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned with a bright smile. “Yes?”

  “You hit our friend.” A gaggle of women with too much makeup confronted her.

  “Your friend is a whore.” Elspeth only told them what they probably already knew, and yet the supposed friends took offense. They rushed Elspeth, who giggled as she said, “Bar fight!” She already knew how this would end.

  It didn’t stop her from enjoying herself.

  When one of the women lunged, she snared her and launched her over the counter. Then she lifted another and tossed her into a third. Exhilaration warmed her blood. No wonder people like sparring.

  She wanted more. Elspeth looked around and clapped her hands. “Oh, come on, everyone. Don’t be shy!”

  When no one came to fight, she stalked over to the yelling bartender and punched him in the face.

  He dropped, and Babsy leapt off before he crashed.

  “Ah, man, did you have to do that? I was about to beat my bucking human record,” Babsy pouted.

  Crack. The sound of a bat getting slammed on the bartop drew attention. A new man had appeared behind the bar and pointed his bat. “Get the fuck out of my bar, you lunatics.”

  “A weapon isn’t very sporting,” Elspeth remarked. “Let me help you with that.”

  Leaning over, she snatched the weapon and brought it down over her upraised thigh. It didn’t break, but it did bend.

  She handed it back. “There you go. Now that you can’t cheat, shall we dance?” She beckoned with her fingers. “Although, before we do, mind giving me another glass of that fancy water?”

  “That wasn’t entirely water,” Babs muttered. “It might have had some vodka in it.”

  “You gave me alcohol.” Elspeth’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear. That explains a lot. You might want to clear the place.”

  “Why?”

  “Because—” Elspeth might have said more except she caught a glimpse of him. He of the gorgeous blue eyes.

  My eyes.

  And the whore was back touching him. Clinging to his arm. Whining that she needed rescue.

  “Get your hands off him!” Elspeth roared.

  She blinked as she charged. The blood pumping hard. Her control slipping…

  And found herself hanging over someone’s back, the smell of smoke in her nostrils.

  “Wh-wha-at h-h-appened?” she slurred.

  “You destroyed the bar.”

  Shit. Not again. Mother would freak.

 
“What are you doing?”

  “Carrying you.”

  “Put me down.” She wouldn’t want him to hurt himself.

  “When I’m done with you. Go back to sleep.” He snapped his fingers and whispered a word she didn’t understand.

  Zzzzzz.

  Chapter Seven

  Alfred didn’t say a word when Luc asked him to open the boot of the beastless carriage. Nor did he comment when Luc tossed his burden inside.

  Alfred waited until they’d embarked on the route for home before clearing his throat and remarking, “Kidnapping is a felony.”

  “Is there anything that isn’t a crime by human standards?” Luc grumbled because it seemed at every turn there was some kind of law against something. It really cramped his plans for world domination.

  “Might I ask why you felt a need to kidnap Miss Elspeth?”

  “The woman foiled my plans for coitus.”

  “Hence why you knocked her unconscious, abducted her, and set fire to the tavern.”

  “Me?” Luc couldn’t help an indignant lilt. “I had nothing to do with the violence that erupted.” Although he had greatly enjoyed it. Enough that, when Elspeth went a little crazy and began throwing chairs and laughing with great gusto when she knocked someone down, he’d stepped in just when a large fellow thought he could accost her.

  “Don’t touch her,” he’d growled at the man in the bar. No one was to lay a hand on the dragoness. No one but him.

  For revenge, of course.

  Nothing else.

  Now if only he could get his damned cock to forget how it felt to have her in his arms. Plush and womanly.

  “Miss Elspeth was involved in a violent fracas?” Alfred shook his head as his query brought Luc back to the present. “I find that hard to believe.”

  Luc didn’t. She was a big and bold warrior female, obviously. The kind his people used to produce before they became pacifists.

  “Her friend helped with the chaos, too.”

  “Won’t her friend notice that you kidnapped Miss Elspeth?”

  “Her friend was the one to encourage me to take her.” Which he found immediately suspicious since the other female was also a dragon.

  However, given the humans running screaming from the burning building while Elspeth giggled, in between chugging from various bottles, he could see how the friend might have wanted a male to step in and take control.

  So Luc had. Stepped close, that was.

  “Cease your actions at once.”

  One eye closed, the other open and glazed, Elspeth smiled. Sloppily. “Make me, handsome.”

  Handsome? She found him attractive. How dare she try to disarm her enemy with flattery. He didn’t fall for it for a single moment.

  Okay, maybe his cock did, but he knew she lied.

  “You ruined my evening,” he declared.

  “You’re a buzz kill,” was her reply, followed by a belch that ignited. The fiery gas bubble floated away and clung to the ceiling, blackening a new spot.

  “You don’t hold your liquor well.”

  “Ma-ma-mother says I shouldn’t drink.”

  Given the chaos, he could see why.

  “You leave me no choice,” he declared. “You wrecked my plans.”

  “Saved you, more like. How could you do that to Alfred?” she said with a wag of her finger. “You’re supposed to be in loooooove.”

  “What are you speaking of, woman?” he asked, sidestepping when a human went screeching by screaming, “Fi-i-i-r-r-e.”

  Way to state the obvious.

  “You and Alfred. And your relationship. How could you cheat on him like that?”

  His mouth rounded, and he grabbed her by the arm to yank her close just as a section of the ceiling by the bar collapsed. “Are you implying I am amorously involved with Alfred?”

  “Aren’t you? I mean, you live together and all, and he calls you master.”

  “Because he is my manservant. He works for me.”

  “Works?” Her eyes widened with a temporary moment of lucidity. “So you’re not screwing?”

  “Most assuredly not!”

  “Oh. Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Dating someone?”

  “No.”

  “Then that means it’s okay for me to do this.” She leaned forward and kissed him.

  Pressed her damned mouth to his, causing his senses to awaken all at once while sucking all the breath from his lungs.

  He couldn’t say anything, could merely enjoy the sensation of her mouth moving against his. The feel of her hands drawing him close. His own hands found their way around her body, the impression of her firm flesh even through her clothes exciting.

  The squeeze of her against him, arousing.

  He panted for air as she continued her embrace, siphoning his reasoning. Making him ignore the danger.

  Danger? Smoke. Fire.

  His eyes flashed opened as he realized something crucial.

  The kiss was incredible.

  No, not that. She was killing him, with pleasure! That was her plan.

  And it worked. He’d never been harder or more aroused.

  Completely unnatural and devious, which was why he pushed away from her.

  Her eyes were soft, her lips parted and full. The color on them smudged. A wipe of his hand across his mouth showed a red streak. Her mark on him.

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. She reached for him—

  Clonk. The falling light fixture knocked her out cold, sending her into a heap on the floor.

  He regarded her for a moment, taking note of the fire all around that crept closer. He should walk out and let her burn.

  Burn for the sins of her ancestors.

  Burn for igniting his lust.

  Burn for casting a spell on him that wouldn’t let him walk away.

  Perhaps his revenge would be better served by not letting her have a quick death.

  Reaching down, he lifted her into his arms and transported her through the inferno, his lungs not bothered by the smoke. The heat barely kissing his exposed skin. His clothes, though, smoldered, and he noticed Elspeth turned a rosy shade of pink. Interesting. Her human form wasn’t impervious to fire. Was her dragon?

  Exiting outside, he heard sirens, screams. Even saw a flash as people held up tiny squares aimed in his direction.

  Was he under attack? He bared his teeth and roared, and for a moment, his true self shimmered through. Only barely, but he felt some grim satisfaction in seeing the humans scatter with screams of “Monster!”

  Not exactly. His kind preferred the term demon.

  Elspeth chose that moment to wake, her query soft and vulnerable.

  “Wh-wha-at h-h-appened?” she slurred.

  “You destroyed the bar.” In a most spectacular fashion.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Carrying you.”

  “That doesn’t seem proper. I don’t even know your name,” she protested.

  “I am Lucifer.”

  “Aha, knew you were a handsome devil.” She giggled. “You really should put me down.”

  He held her closer. “When I’m done with you. Go back to sleep.” He muttered a guttural word of power, a sleeping spell that worked even on dragons. One he could use now that he was free of the dungeon with the thick layers of magic that prevented it.

  Her eyes shut. Her body went limp, and he slung her over his shoulder, ready to leave, only to have her short friend plant herself in front of him.

  “Whatcha doing with Elsie?”

  “Taking her to my lair and torturing her for answers.”

  The woman squinted at him. “You going to kill her?”

  “Uh, no.” Not initially. He had too many questions.

  “How’s your personal injury insurance?”

  He frowned. “My what?”

  “I don’t suppose you’d sign an indemnity form?” the friend asked.

  “A what?”

  “I
’m going to take it you don’t keep a lawyer on retainer.”

  He drew himself tall, knowing enough about lawyers from the telly-vision to assert, “I am not a criminal.”

  “Good enough for me. Just remember to wear a rubber.”

  A statement that made absolutely no sense, and yet it proved enough to have the short friend trot off. Leaving him with Elspeth still draped over his shoulder.

  A few more paces, and he was well away from the burning tavern and the approaching sirens.

  Alfred was parked nearby, and that was how he ended up smelling of smoke, with a female dragon in his trunk, listening to Alfred lecture him about, “…might cause some trouble. What happened to simply finding a sexual partner?”

  “I had one but she”—of the golden hair who smelled so much better than the woman who’d accosted him with her mouth—“interfered.”

  “Really? I wonder why.”

  Luc wasn’t about to explain her erroneous assumption that he was involved with his manservant. “Because I told you, she is out to destroy me.”

  “Or she was jealous.”

  The very idea clamped his lips shut. Preposterous, of course. They’d met once. Briefly. More likely, she worried about him gathering human allies that would support him in his bid for world domination.

  “What will you do with her?” Alfred asked.

  Strip her naked and lick her like she once threatened to do to me.

  “Lock her in the dungeon.” He’d deal with her later, after a cold shower. A long one.

  Chapter Eight

  Babette had just gotten out of the shower when her phone rang. No avoiding it.

  She answered. “Elspeth and Babette’s legendary whore house. How may we blow you?”

  “I want to speak with my daughter.”

  “Elsie can’t come to the phone right now.”

  “Why not?”

  She braced for the coming screech. “Because she’s not here.”

  “What do you mean Elspeth isn’t with you? You were supposed to look after her!” Elspeth’s mother’s voice rose in pitch.

  “Listen, Auntie Klarice.” Distant aunt, but the woman needed softening right now. A reminder she shouldn’t kill Babette since they were related—if very, very distantly—was in order. “She went off with a man.” A guy who was actually kind of interesting. Especially since he was the first person she’d ever heard of able to set Elsie off.