by K.N. Lee
He pulled his wings back, distancing himself from her, but kept holding her hand. “The first walk can’t be controlled. It’s a reflex. And it still might not happen for a few years. But you’ve grown in strength since I saw you this morning. I’m certain you will.”
The blond woman Rowan had seen with Azkeel earlier sauntered from a vine-narrowed passage. She leaned against him, whispered in his ear, and took his free hand.
“I have to go.” He offered an apologetic smile, his mask of cool entity-suave gone. In that moment, Rowan realized any demon she’d encountered who she hadn’t thought of as prey had a similar cool demeanor. Seth, his father, even Shannon had an arrogant confidence in his certainty of his ownership over her. Azkeel had revealed his true self to her. It was an honor that he felt he could trust her as if he didn’t want a pretense between them. It put a new perspective on the angel’s bevy of humans and turned them into a show, a cover, to protect his true self.
She watched him leave, moving in and out of the crowd, until all she could see were the white tips of his wings bobbing with his gait.
“Like what you see?”
She shivered as the words slid down her back and seeped into her skin. She didn’t need to turn to see who it was. Who else would give her shivers with his very voice?
31
“I like it well enough, Seth,” Rowan said, keeping her gaze on Azkeel until he stepped around a vine-covered corner in the club. “But I’d rather be home.” She turned her darkest glare on Seth.
He drew close, his chest brushing against her back and spreading warmth through her too-thin, barely-there evening dress. A thrill raced through her and desire curled, hot and needy, low within her.
“Have you found my brother?” he asked.
She stepped away, determined not to succumb to her attraction. “I doubt he’s at the party.”
“Did your keen, logical mind tell you that?” He drew close again and grabbed her shoulders, holding her in place.
“It’s an obvious assumption.” Heat seeped into her skin.
He sighed, his breath caressing her cheek and neck. “You would think a lot of things were obvious, and yet…”
She focused on how angry she was with him and not on the hard line of his body pressed against her. “If you know all the answers, then why am I here?”
“I’m flattered you think so highly of me.”
Well, demands weren’t working. And neither, apparently, was flattery. “You could at least tell me what you do know, or suspect. If only to expedite your brother’s recovery.”
“Don’t you think you can do it on your own?”
“I think I want to go home.”
“But what about Azkeel and his wings,” Seth said, his tone taunting. “Or Shannon and his muscles.”
You and yours. She clamped down on that thought. Think of Ben, warm, comforting Ben. “Just give me a clue.”
He didn’t respond. She could still feel the heat from his body, the soft fabric of his suit jacket against her bare back. He couldn’t possibly be considering her request. She’d asked out of sheer desperation, on the off-chance he’d take pity on her.
“Not everything here is as it seems.” He slid away from her, leaving her cold.
She bit back a growl of frustration. Obviously, he just wanted to play. She refused to satisfy him by asking what he meant. She was the mouse and he the cat and all her exits were cut off.
So things weren’t what they seemed. She was pretty sure he was exactly what he seemed: conniving.
She turned to confront him face to face, but he was gone. Her eyes searched him out on their own volition and found him weaving through a group of horned lizard-like entities on the other side of the pool. He was just so… compelling. Everything about him made her burn with sexual anticipation, something she’d never experienced before.
And yet, she’d be damned if she’d play by his rules. He could have just asked for help, been honest with her like Azkeel had. But no, he’d kidnapped her, made her other-self disappear — she was more sure of that now than ever before — and continued to play games with her. His heart was as black as his father’s appearance.
He eased to the far wall and glanced over his shoulder.
Curious and curiouser.
Vines with dark red flowers that reminded her of fresh blood covered the area in front of him. He pushed the vines aside and revealed a wall instead of an alcove like she’d expected.
No, not a wall. A thin glowing band shimmered in the dim lighting, outlining a door. He opened it, and she caught a glimpse of a hall before he slipped in and closed the door behind him. If anyone at the party was up to something, it was Seth. Her universal scapegoat? Maybe. But she wasn’t without evidence.
She meandered to the wall, fast enough that she hoped she wouldn’t lose track of him beyond the door, and slow enough to not draw suspicion from anyone around her.
When she reached the door, she glanced around, just like he had.
Damn. Now she was acting like him.
But she wasn’t like him. She was one of the good guys.
The closest entity was on the other side of a rock outcropping near the pool. No one paid any attention to her, so she pushed back the vines and felt for a doorknob. It was a release set in the door, so nothing protruded. She gave it a tug, heard the catch click, and swung the door inward an inch. With the music and voices in the club, she couldn’t hear into the hall and aside from her momentary glimpse, she had no way of knowing what lay beyond.
Walking into unknown dangers was dumb. There were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. But playing Seth’s game and not taking control of her situation grated on her nerves. She was her own person, not some puppet to manipulate.
So, here was to picking the dumb choice. She eased into the hall and closed the door behind her. There was no one around, not even Seth.
A twenty-feet-long hall, well lit with utilitarian fluorescent lights and stark white walls stretched before her. It was a striking contrast to the dark, lush club on the other side of the door. This was a place for staff. No frills, no details, certainly nothing near the opulence shown to the club’s members. The only exception was a carved wooden door at the far end.
It was her only choice, save going back the way she’d come, and she wasn’t about to do that. The carving depicted a nest of vipers, ranging in shape and size and covering the entire door save for a simple brass handle on the right.
She reached for the handle. A wooden viper snapped at her and she leapt back. The door was alive, a writhing mass of vipers straining to reach her. They hissed and bit, keeping her more than an arm’s reach away.
Behind her, the door opened and two demons walked in. They were humanoid, two arms and two legs, but that was as close as they got to human. Their heads, more dog than man, had long snouts, mouths full of pointed teeth, and almond-shaped eyes. Each had two human-looking ears, but out of their temples rose curved horns, reminding her of an antelope. Their skin was russet and leathery, void of any visible hair. Each wore a variation of black leather pants and vest with silver studs and chains.
“Hello,” the one on the right said, his voice dark and filled with hunger. He flicked a sinewy tail that ended in a barbed point.
“I’ve taken the wrong door,” she said, feeling like dinner was about to be served and she was on the menu.
“I can see that,” the same demon said.
Neither of them moved to let her pass. Behind her, the viper door hissed and snapped and she couldn’t decide which she’d prefer, snakes or devils.
Devils, she might be able to fight.
“I should rejoin my party.” She strode toward them, determined not to look like prey.
They still didn’t move.
She nudged the talker to get past and he leapt at her. She sidestepped and rammed her fingers in his throat. After the useless punch to the head against the bouncer protecting Faust, the high stakes entity bookie, there would be no more face sho
ts. From now on she’d aim for something more vital.
The devil coughed and reached for his throat. She shouldered around him, but his barbed tail shot up. It took a chunk out of the wall beside her head and she wrenched back.
“Won’t share blood with the door, maybe you’ll share a little with me,” he said.
His friend laughed like a hyena.
“I don’t share bodily fluids with strangers.” She rammed her heel against the side of his knee.
He swayed, off-balance, and she seized the back of his head and slammed it into the wall behind her. He grunted and lashed out with his tail. It nicked her shoulder, drawing a stinging line through her flesh.
The snakes on the door hissed and snapped, writhing in a frenzy and stretching toward her. Tongues flashed in and out between their sharp teeth.
She punched the devil again, in the temple, making him gasp. The barb on his tail flew toward her, and she shoved him into his friend and they stumbled back. She rushed for the door to the club.
It swung open as she reached for it. She didn’t wait to see who’d opened it. She grabbed the hand still pressing the catch, twisted, stepped into a wristlock, and was enveloped in a smothering white mass.
32
Rowan leaned into the wristlock, pressing the entity’s knuckles to her chest and using her body for extra strength and control. She ignored the white smothering mass shuddering around her, determined to get away from the stark hall in the entities’ club and the devils attacking her.
Whoever she’d grabbed gasped and the buffeting stopped, giving her a chance to catch her bearings. It was Azkeel, his wings wrapped around them, his eyes wide.
She released the lock and he withdrew his wings. His gaze leapt over her shoulder then back to her, and from his hard expression, it was obvious she wasn’t supposed to be in the hall.
“I was looking for the bathroom.” It sounded dumb to her, but Azkeel nodded, his expression becoming unreadable.
Then his gaze dropped to her shoulder. He ran a gentle finger over the wound and looked at the blood.
The viper door hissed and snapped, and the devil Rowan had punched in the neck growled.
“I think it’s time to go home.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket, wiped his finger, then dabbed at her shoulder. “Let me drive you.”
“Well… I…” She glanced back at the devils, who watched her and Azkeel with barely veiled anger.
She just didn’t know if them not attacking was a testament to Azkeel’s position in the entity hierarchy or something else. Regardless, Azkeel was right. It was time for her to leave. She’d lost Seth and didn’t want any more encounters with any demons of any kind.
“You should stay,” she said.
“I don’t mind.” He wrapped one wing around her, blocking the devils’ view, and touched his forehead to hers.
Gentle warmth spread through her. His hair tickled the sides of her face, and his breath smelled of mint. She brushed back a strand of hair, tucking it behind his ear, then drew a line down his jaw to his chin, right below his full lips. Of everyone in this world, he’d revealed a little bit of truth, and a little bit of kindness. And she couldn’t deny that there was a connection between them.
“You really should stay,” she said, her voice breathy. “I still have work to do at the office.”
“Of course.”
He escorted her through the club, up the stairs, and into the front lobby. All the while, she kept scanning the crowd for Seth. She didn’t think she’d see him. He was somewhere in the staff halls, setting into motion whatever diabolical plans he had. But she still couldn’t help herself.
Azkeel’s limousine drove her back to the Federal Building, where she got out and stared up at the high rise. She didn’t know why she hadn’t wanted Azkeel to drive her home. All the way back to the office she’d struggled to convince herself it was because she still had work to do. But in truth, she was afraid of how the drive would end, in that awkward moment where the guy expected a kiss or an invitation or something. And she didn’t want to be the one to turn an angel down. Besides, she had more than enough temptation from Seth. There was no reason to put herself in the direct line of more trouble.
The office was quiet, for which she was grateful. She didn’t think she could handle any more encounters with demons, angels, or even humans, for that matter.
On her desk, a plain manila envelope lay atop the files on the missing demons. For a moment she wondered if Azkeel had sent another surprise, but the FBI logo stamped in the corner dismissed that thought.
Before she could give in to any more speculation, she opened it. It contained a thin file on Seth. Ms. Sunshine at technical support had come through — although she hadn’t put the file in the side drawer as promised. Oh, well.
Rowan sat on the corner of her desk and flipped open Seth’s file. There wasn’t much to it. In fact, the file on his missing brother was larger. For the son of a wealthy demon — or any wealthy man, for that matter — Seth wasn’t doing much.
He was a member of the entities’ club and possibly knew both Manny and Faust — although there was little proof to that. His expenses were modest, his income was modest, and his debt was modest. He had no criminal record, not even a parking ticket. Everything about the report screamed Average Joe, but there was nothing average about Seth.
She would have at least expected an alias or known criminal associates or something, but perhaps that was too dangerous to say about the son of a demon emperor. She didn’t really know how politics worked in this world. For all she knew, the director of the FBI was Seth’s uncle or cousin or something.
Silly her for thinking she’d find what she was looking for in a file. Now she didn’t know what to do next. While she was trapped in this crazy world, girls were being murdered in hers. She had nothing on Seth. There wasn’t even a parking ticket.
Maybe she should go back to the hospital and figure out what had happened with her other-self. According to the morgue, she was dead. Her body had to be somewhere.
And perhaps she should just do what Seth wanted and find his brother.
That thought left a bad taste in her mouth. She disliked being coerced even more.
The elevator doors slid open, making her jump. She peered down the row of cubicles. It was Shannon, and at the same time she saw him, he saw her. His eyes narrowed and he picked up his pace.
“Nice dress.” He didn’t sound like he meant it.
She bit the inside of her cheek, preparing for the fight she knew would come but unwilling to throw the first punch — metaphorically speaking. She was sure Shannon’s fuse was shorter than hers, and she prayed it would go off soon. How ironic — particularly given her disastrous fight with Faust’s thug — that she was itching for a fight now. She really wanted to pummel Seth, but he wasn’t there and Shannon was almost as annoying.
He grabbed her shoulders and squashed his lips against hers.
She froze, stunned, and every nasty thought she’d been preparing vanished.
She’d expected accusations, harsh words, something physical, but not this.
The kiss was hard, aggressive, and full of passion. It forced heat across her face, down her neck, and deeper. He squeezed her shoulders, drawing a yelp of pain and a shuddering, surprising need. His tongue took the opening between her lips, probing and licking, drawing a hunger within her to match his. It was hot, primal, nothing like the electricity with Seth, or the comfort with Ben.
Ben.
She jerked away, but Shannon held her down and wouldn’t stop the kiss.
“Stop,” she said into his lips. “Please.”
He hesitated and she turned her head.
“Now I know there’s someone.” His voice was flat, defeated. He shoved away and stormed off, heading back to the elevators.
Damn. She was making a perfect mess of her other-self’s life. If she was still somehow alive, it wasn’t fair to ruin her relationship — whatever kind of relation
ship she had with Shannon. Rowan wouldn’t want to return home to find that Ben and she had broken up and she had missed the fight. As much as she didn’t want to go after Shannon, she knew she should.
She pushed off the desk and the room lurched around her. Blood rushed in her ears and she couldn’t catch her breath. She clung to her chair back and squeezed her eyes shut. If she didn’t get going, she’d miss Shannon, and she didn’t want to have to run through the building trying to find him.
The elevator doors slid open.
She needed to move now, before she missed her chance. She staggered down the aisle, regaining her balance as she moved. The doors began to close and she reached out, as if she could stop them from ten feet away.
“Shannon, wait.”
He stuck his hand between the doors, and they reopened. She eased in beside him and stared at the numbers, searching for the right words. She didn’t enjoy apologies, particularly when she didn’t feel she was at fault. But sometimes falling on your sword was the right thing to do.
“Listen, I’m…”
“What are you doing here?” His voice was soft, more… human.
Could she think that? She didn’t really know what sounded human and what didn’t anymore, given that she still couldn’t determine who was or wasn’t human.
“I’m…”
This was harder than she’d anticipated. Maybe her other-self could fix things when she got back — if she got back. All Rowan really wanted was to go home, but she had to face the possibility that Seth would never keep his promise.
In fact, she wasn’t certain he’d said he’d send her home at all.
She clicked her heels once.
They were red, but she didn’t think they were magic. An apology was the more realistic choice.
“Shannon… Richard, I’m—” She looked into his eyes.
In the dim elevator light, she couldn’t see the gold. They appeared simple human brown.
She looked away, suddenly afraid he’d take her eye contact as an invitation. A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed it back. “I’m sorry.” There, she’d said it.