Ronin rolled his glass between his palms. “Maybe I should get a job.”
“You mean a human job?” Dagan’s eyes widened and he shuddered in mock horror. He motioned to the bartender for refills. “You don’t need a job.”
That was true, financially speaking. Bounty-hunting for the Council was a pretty lucrative gig. Even if he never worked again, he had enough money to comfortably support himself for the rest of his life. As long as he spent his money wisely, that was.
“What you need, my man,” Dagan added, “is to get laid more often.”
It had been a while, by his normal standards. One month, two days, and twenty-three hours.
An image of Amara popped back into his head. The sad, resigned way she’d looked when she told him he was too decent for her. The heady scent of what he now knew was her natural allure, calling to him. Where was she now? He’d searched for her throughout the past month, but to no avail. She hadn’t returned to Opiate, smart girl that she was. The club had a strict rule against sex demons feeding on the premises. Bad for business and all. And in a city this size, the odds of finding her were pretty slim.
Right after the incident, his brothers had wanted to go after her. They’d tried to coerce her description out of him so they could track her down. It wasn’t until after Ronin reminded them that the succubus had committed no crime that they let the matter drop. While the Council prohibited killing, it didn’t view it as murder for a species to do what was in its nature to survive. Besides, he was the one who’d stupidly let himself get trapped.
Shit. He didn’t want to be thinking about this right now. Or ever. She’d almost killed him. When the bouncer had found him unconscious in the storeroom and called Keegan, the man told his brother he was dead. He’d almost given Keegan a heart attack. If it hadn’t been for some quick thinking by Cresso, their incubus friend who worked as a scientist for a lab funded by the Elden Council, he would be six feet under right now. Thankfully, Cresso had long been working on a way for succubi and incubi to mate without killing their partners. While he still hadn’t found a cure, he’d had the great idea of combining some of the chemicals he’d developed with the restorative properties of Keegan’s blood. That was enough to kick-start Ronin’s own healing ability.
Yeah, he’d survived, but he wasn’t the same as before. He was slower. Weaker. A natural side effect of losing some of his life essence to a sex demon.
Ronin shook his head, forcing the unwanted memories away. “Maybe you’re right.”
Dagan nodded. “Of course I am. Look around you, brother. There are tons of women here, and I’m sure at least one of them would be willing to knock boots with your ugly ass.”
Ronin halfheartedly snickered. Not that he had an overabundance of ego, but he knew he wasn’t ugly. “You’ve probably already banged half of them.”
Dagan examined the occupants of the room before shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, probably.”
The bartender, a beautiful fae with black waist-length hair, slid two fresh glasses of whiskey in front of them. Ronin accepted his with a nod and lifted it to his lips, then froze at the sound of the familiar voice behind him.
“Well, well, thought we’d find you two here. Glad to see we weren’t wrong.”
Ronin spun the barstool around to face his oldest brother, Keegan. Taeg, the second-oldest, stood right by his side, wearing one of his trademark smartass T-shirts. This one said You’re Pretty When I’m Drunk. “What the devil are you two doing out?”
Dagan pulled a face. “Yeah, do your mommies know you’re here?”
“Fuck off.” Keegan simultaneously punched Dagan in the arm while motioning the bartender for a drink. “Brynn insisted we go out tonight.”
Taeg gave Keegan a good-natured shove. “Yeah, something about you crowding her.”
“I’m surprised you agreed to leave her alone in her condition,” Ronin said.
Keegan’s wife, Brynn, was nine months pregnant, and she was so big she could barely walk.
“Maya’s with her.” Taeg referred to his fiancée, the fierce but petite human who’d tried to kill him when they’d first met. He reached over Ronin’s shoulder to accept the glass from the bartender.
The bartender started to turn away, but Dagan grabbed her hand. “Sweetheart, when are you going to realize that I’m perfect for you?”
She snorted and yanked her hand back. “Sorry, honey, I have far too much respect for myself.”
Ronin stifled a laugh as she sauntered off. Dagan had been trying to get into her good graces—okay, her pants—for the past several weeks, but she was one of the few who weren’t biting.
Taeg wasn’t as nice about it, though. He laughed while he pulled up an empty barstool. “Better luck next time, Chuck.”
“Piss off. You’re just jealous ’cause you’ve had to sleep with the same woman for months.”
Taeg smirked at Dagan’s comment but didn’t reply. He didn’t need to. They all knew how happy their brother was with Maya. Happier than they’d ever seen him.
Damn, but he envied Keegan and Taeg sometimes. They had family. Women who loved them. All he had was a new apartment and his slutty little brother as a roommate.
Keegan snatched a barstool from a guy who rose and walked away, then sat on it. His brow furrowed as he rested an elbow on the counter. “When was the last time the four of us hung out together?”
Ronin thought about it. “Can’t remember.”
“Me either,” Taeg said quietly.
That earned them a moment of silence. So many things had changed in this past year. Mostly for the better, but Ronin missed times like this. Hell, he wouldn’t even mind seeing one of Keeg’s and Taeg’s legendary squabbles right now.
Keegan nodded toward Ronin. “How’s the new apartment?”
“Fine. Wish the balcony was bigger, but then I got spoiled by your massive terrace.”
A couple of weeks ago Ronin had used a good chunk of his savings from his previous bounty-hunter gigs to buy a place in the same building as Brynn’s and Keegan’s spacious penthouse apartment. Four floors down, it was only half the size, but that was more than enough for him and Dagan. They each had their own master suite, and the rooms were far enough apart they couldn’t hear each other from inside.
“I think you could fit all our residences from Infernum into Keegan’s apartment.” Dagan took a swig from his glass. “Things sure have changed, haven’t they?”
“No shit,” Keegan said.
Ronin gave Keegan a pointed look. “Yeah, you’re going to be someone’s dad.”
Taeg chuckled. “Scary how they let anyone have kids.”
All kidding aside, Keegan was going to be a great father, not that any of them would ever be mushy enough to tell him so. But he was a natural leader and determined to do everything the complete opposite of how their own father had done it. That alone pretty much guaranteed him Father of the Year status, at least as far as most demons went.
“Hmm.” Taeg scratched his chin. “Maybe me and Maya should get a place in your building, too. Her apartment is smaller than we’d like.”
“No way,” Keegan said. “The Village is close enough.”
“Ha. You know you miss me being around all the time.”
Keegan sobered and his eyes lowered to the bar top. “If we don’t get some work soon, we may be forced to reevaluate our living situation altogether.”
A dark cloud settled over them at the truth of Keegan’s words. The Council had granted the four of them permission to relocate to New York City because there were plenty of fugitives to be apprehended in this dimension. If that died down, there was always the possibility one or all of them would be ordered back to Infernum. That would be disastrous for Keegan and Taeg, who’d no doubt go on the lam before giving up their women, and Ronin knew he and Dag
an sure as hell didn’t want to be split from their brothers.
They needed an assignment. Sooner rather than later.
Taeg dispelled the tension by leaning against the bar. “Have you thought up a name for the baby yet? ’Cause I’m thinking Taeg is a good one. Taegina if it’s a girl.”
Keegan snorted out a laugh. “You wish.”
Ronin stared into his glass of whiskey, tuning out his brothers’ banter. He’d be the first to admit he was off his game. Whether due to the possible consequences of their lack of work, the aftereffects of the incident with the succubus, or to the ongoing changes in all their lifestyles, who knew? But something had to give. He couldn’t stay in this slump for much longer. He needed to do something.
Ronin dragged his barstool back and rose to his feet. His brothers cut off their speech and turned in his direction.
“Where are you going?” Keegan asked.
“Bathroom.” He turned and headed toward the restrooms located to the left of the bar, zigzagging his way through the crowd. It was busier than usual for a Tuesday night. Hell, maybe all the demons in New York were concentrating on drinking now instead of committing crimes. Would explain the recent lack of work.
A big, burly demon with an angry scar on one side of his face edged away from his friends too quickly for Ronin to avoid barreling into him.
“Sorry,” Ronin said. He tried to sidestep the demon, but the guy must have been in as bad a mood as he was, because he blocked his way.
“You ran into me, asshole.”
Ronin stared him down. “And I said I was sorry. What’s your problem?”
The demon rose to his full height, a full inch or two taller than Ronin—which said a lot since, at four inches over six feet, Ronin was no midget.
“You’re my problem.”
Once upon a time, Ronin would have used his calming energy on him. Though the use of powers on other patrons was prohibited inside Eros, he had a feeling the owner would be more than willing to overlook someone trying to promote harmony. But that particular ability didn’t seem to work anymore.
One more reminder of how badly he’d fucked up that night at Opiate.
“Yeah?” he said in a deceptively mild voice. “So what are you going to do about it?”
The demon motioned to his buddies, who closed in around him. “I think we’re gonna have to teach you some manners. How’s that sound?”
Sounded good. Screw harmony. He was itching for a fight. His fingers grazed the hilt of the dagger he always carried strapped to the small of his back. He left it in place. Didn’t need it with these losers.
Ronin brought his hands to his sides, clenching them into fists while he bared his teeth at the demons. “Bring it.”
One of the demons growled.
Ronin tensed, preparing to strike.
“What’s going on here?”
Damn it. Leave it to Keegan to go and spoil all his fun. Then again, it was probably payback for the million times he’d stopped his big brother from throwing down.
“None of your fucking business,” the scarred demon sneered at him. “Unless you want some of what he’s getting, too?”
“Huh.” Keegan pretended to think about it. “Sounds good to me.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Ronin bit back a groan when Taeg stepped up to his other side, flanked by their youngest brother. If there was one thing they could all be counted on, it was to stand up for one another. Whether wanted or not.
“Hell yeah, I’m in,” Dagan said.
The demons tensed and gave each other wary glances, apparently weighing the wisdom of going three-on-four with him and his brothers. They were saved from the necessity of a reply by the arrival of Giorgio, one of the bar’s bouncers.
“Guys, you know there’s no violence on the premises,” he said. “If you want to let loose, you need to take it outside.”
The scarred demon averted his eyes. “Forget it, we were about to go to another bar anyway.”
Giorgio nodded and stepped to the side, waiting for them to pass him by.
“You got lucky. This time,” the demon snarled at Ronin. “Don’t expect the same next time I see you.”
“Looking forward to it,” Ronin said evenly.
With one last menacing snarl, the demon and his friends retreated.
Ronin turned as one with his brothers and watched them go.
Keegan waited until they were out of sight before turning back to him. “You okay?”
“Fine,” he snapped.
Taeg shook his head, and muttered, “Can’t believe you used to be the calm, rational one.”
“That was before he fucked that succubus,” Dagan said.
Ronin tensed, irritation springing up inside him. Usually, none of his brothers mentioned the incident; they knew it, and the resulting loss of his calming ability was a major sore spot for him. “I told you to never bring that up aga—”
A low buzz reverberated throughout the space surrounding them. Keegan’s expression grew hopeful as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “It’s from the Council.”
Taeg reached inside the inner pocket of his leather jacket. “I got buzzed, too.”
“Me too,” Dagan said.
Yeah, so had Ronin. After giving Dagan one last glare, he dug out his cell phone and stared at the screen. As he’d expected, it contained preliminary information on a new assignment. And if they were all alerted about it at the same time, it could only mean one thing.
Their new fugitive was a real badass.
For the first time in months, he got a feeling of lightness in his gut—anticipation. A new bad guy to track down. Something else to focus on besides deceitful succubi, lost powers, and the possibility of being forced to leave this dimension.
“About damn time.”
§
He was going to kill her. Not literally, of course. She was too useful for that. But he would be furious. And when he was furious...
Bad things happened.
From her seat in the back of the cab, Amara stifled a shiver that had nothing to do with the frigid March temperature buffeting her barely-clad flesh. No, it had everything to do with how Asmodeus would react when she told him she’d failed. He’d gotten worse over the past month, more crazed in his insistence that she complete his assignments. While he’d appointed several of the other succubi to a small group of men he appeared to be especially interested in, he’d had her scouting out gifted emissaries from the Otherworlds. Tonight’s job had been one of those, and her defeat would enrage him beyond belief, especially if the other succubi had once again failed to lure in any of the men they’d been ordered to capture.
Though he referred to himself as her boss, Asmodeus wasn’t truly her employer. No, the gold band clamped around her wrist pointed to a far more sinister arrangement.
He owned her.
And when she didn’t obey his commands, whether willingly or not, there was always a price to pay.
You chose this path, she reminded herself. Yes, she’d had a choice; she could have declined to bind herself to the sadistic demon. But the consequences of her refusal would have been far too dire.
“Here you are.” The sleepy cabdriver drove up to the address she’d given him.
Steeling herself, Amara pulled a wad of hundreds out of the front of her slinky black minidress. She tossed one of the bills to the driver and climbed out of the backseat. The elegant Queen Anne townhome loomed above her, sinister in its appearance even though the terra-cotta finish lent an air of lightness to the midnight sky. Maybe it only appeared so frightening because of what waited for her inside.
She barely noted the squeal of tires as the taxi sped away. If she could have, she would have run away, too. But she didn’t have that option. No, for be
tter or worse—and it was always worse—this was her home.
He would already know she was here. Somehow. No use delaying the inevitable. Taking a deep breath, she started forward. She stifled a curse when her knees threatened to buckle. Need consumed her, making her weak and shaky. She wouldn’t be able to hold out too much longer. It had taken all she had to keep from feeding on the clueless cabdriver. Nearly three days had passed since she had last fed. One more week without sustenance and she’d be dead.
Amara stiffened her spine and walked up the stone steps to the ornate, wrought-iron front door. As expected, she didn’t even reach the top of the stairs before it swung open.
Gofrey, Asmodeus’s second-in-command and all-around lackey, stood on the other side, grinning at her like the sick loon he was. Gofrey was only a few years older than her—and certainly attractive—with dark, silky hair and smoldering brown eyes. But his beauty was only skin-deep. The man was a monster.
Even though Gofrey was nowhere near as frightening as his master, he was still dangerous enough to raise her hackles every time she saw him. Especially since he’d decided he wanted her. So far the only thing that had saved her from his amorous pursuit was Asmodeus.
But then, the master was probably a million times worse than his goon.
“He’s waiting for you in his chamber,” Gofrey said.
Big surprise. She bit back the sarcastic comment that longed to escape, walking past him and heading toward the curved staircase. The heat of his eyes was on her back the entire way up. If only she could stop on the second floor and escape to the room Asmodeus had forced to her to take in this townhouse when he’d first bound her to him. Fleeing was pointless, however. Asmodeus would only follow, and he wouldn’t be happy.
Touch of the Angel (Demons of Infernum, #3) Page 3