by Cari Z
Rio lobbed a stinger into the middle of the room. To his surprise, the succubus managed to catch it, turn, and throw it at towards a shadowy corner partially shielded by a painted room divider just before it went off. There was a bang, a scream, and suddenly the succubus was free. And boy, was she angry.
Rio ignored her, threw in another stinger, and waited for it to clear a path through the crowd. Whoever was behind that divider was someone important enough to warrant revenge from a demon, and that could mean Porter Grey. The floor was a mess of bodies, some of them trampled as those at the edges fought their way out. Rio let them go. He was here for bigger game.
He shot three more people on his way across the room. Two of them were guards, both a little worse for wear, and one of them was a “guest,” most likely Russian judging from his tattoos, who was too far from the stinger to be affected by it and too stupid to know better than to fight back. He fired one of the fallen guard’s Glocks and got one shot off before taking a bullet to the forehead. The shot went wild anyway.
There were three more bodies permanently down on the far side of the room, but these ones weren’t from Rio. They were just dead, the thin skin around their eyes stained by petechiae, their tongues gone purple from strain. Massive, very fatal heart attacks. The succubus was renewing herself. Rio hurried over to the divider and flung it aside. If she’d found Porter Grey—
She hadn’t. She’d found someone else, an old, small man in a white robe. This, then, was probably the infamous Saint Peter. His corpse, rather. Rio could tell even from five feet away that the man was dead, had just died, in fact. The succubus was still crouched over him, holding him close in a kiss. When she dropped the corpse, it was completely rigid, still locked in a state of orgasmic tension, robe tented and stained from Saint Peter’s dying release. His face was a rictus of agony, though. Anyone who thought death by pleasure was a good idea clearly hadn’t tried it.
She turned, hissing, to face Rio. He considered shooting her, but there would be no point; the body was already dead, and she could animate it for as long as she could hold it together. That was the problem with a freed demon; they were virtually unstoppable until the body they were riding in decayed. She sauntered over to him, her hips curved like crescent moons, her breasts heavy and round. He should have been frozen with lust, easy prey for her. She laid one hand on his chest, crawled her fingers lazily up to the patch of visible skin at the base of his neck—
The succubus suddenly howled and threw herself back out of range of his touch. She was panting, but not with desire. Her whole demeanor had gone from predatory to fearful in an instant. She tried to run away, but Rio caught her by one arm, and she screamed and flailed with unnatural strength as he reeled her in, fighting desperately to get free. He pulled her close, took off one of his gloves and lifted his hand. He didn’t want to do this, but if she was smart he wouldn’t have to, she wouldn’t let him get close enough to put his bare hand on her. C’mon, run, you bitch. Run…
He was less than an inch from her throat when the body suddenly slumped, all the fight gone out of it. The succubus had fled, voluntarily taking the path back to Hell rather than risk what he could do to her. The girl he was holding now was just a girl, no longer the incomparable seductress that she had been. Her hair was lank and filthy, her body was covered with welts and gashes, and her neck was very clearly broken. So was her nose and most of her teeth. Rio set her body down gently and headed for the nearest door, partially hidden behind the tattered divider he’d thrown there.
The door led into a hallway, and before Rio had taken two steps he knew he was too late. He could see the opening at the far end, the means of Porter’s egress. The summoner always had been the type to have a backup plan in place. A faint natural breeze filtered through the hall, and Rio swore under his breath. “I think Porter’s gone, Maria.”
“Damn it. And Saint Peter?”
“Dead.”
Her sigh was audible over the com. “Make sure he’s really gone before you wrap things up, but secure Harper first and foremost.”
“You got it.” Rio turned around and headed back out into the mess. There were doors set at regular intervals in the walls, and he tried them all methodically, revealing private meeting rooms, a few well-padded boudoirs and one room that was clearly meant for harsher play, if the medieval-style tools hanging on the wall were anything to go by. One locked door led to a security room filled with video monitors, but there was no one watching them.
Rio searched until he found the camera connected to the hallway with the back door, then rewound the feed until—yeah, there was Porter, staggering a little with the aftereffects of the stinger grenade but making his escape all the same. Rio felt a hot knot of disappointment lodge in his chest. He had been so close…and it meant so much to Ron and Elli. He didn’t want to have to use the thing he had tucked away in his car, but it looked like he might not have a choice now, not unless he wanted another opportunity to nab Porter Grey to vanish.
Well, on to his other objective. He looked at the computer screens and found the room with Devon, locked up behind bars but not much the worse for wear. He was disheveled, but disheveled was a good look for the cambion. He was also looking straight up at the camera, a slight smile on his face followed by a slow, seductive wink. Rio wasn’t sure what the effort was for until he saw the door to the safe room open and a young man, no suit but a t-shirt and glasses, enter. Ah. This was probably the man who had been monitoring the feeds, and he wasn’t protected against influence the way the others were.
Even as Rio watched, the young man rushed to the cell door and fumbled it open with a key. Rio checked the hallway feeds, figured out where he was in relation to Devon, shot a frangible round into the main computer to take care of the footage, and headed out.
By the time he got there, Devon and his newfound admirer were leaning heavily against the wall, kissing so brutally that their mouths were already tinged with blood. The young man had lost his glasses; his arms were locked around Devon’s waist as he humped into him at a furious pace, desperate to get off. Rio approached and cleared his throat, but neither of them seemed to notice. Fine, then. He took careful aim, then hit the man just behind the ear with the butt of his Sig.
The man slumped to the ground, and Devon opened his eyes with a moan of frustration. “What…Rio!” Instantly Rio’s arms were filled with one very enthusiastic cambion, and slender legs wrapped around his waist, heedless of the tac vest and bulging pockets. Devon’s hands pawed at his helmet and Rio let him remove it, and a moment later they were kissing.
Rio was immune to every aspect of a demon’s allure, and that extended to half-demons as well. Plenty had tried to seduce him over the years, and he’d sent most of them screaming back to Hell, but Devon…it was a little different with Devon. Actually, it was completely different with him, but just because Rio had a weak spot for the kid didn’t mean they weren’t on a timetable. He forced Devon’s legs off and set him down, putting some space between them. “Porter’s gone. We have to leave.”
“No, don’t stop!”
“Devon!” Rio put his heavy hands on the cambion’s shoulders and stared him down. Devon’s bright blue eyes were almost completely consumed by his dark pupils, and his pouty lips were sinfully red. His jaw was slightly too square to be called feminine, even as smooth and clean-shaven as it was now. His hair was chestnut brown and long enough to curl slightly. His face was flushed pink with want, and he was hard, something his lightweight suit pants did nothing to conceal. He was the most exquisite thing Rio could ever remember seeing, but they had a job to finish. “We have to go. Now.”
“No, I need you now,” Devon protested, winding his hands through the holster straps around Rio’s waist. He’d been using his power and it had taken him too far, Rio could tell. Devon was past caring about anything but getting off, so it was a damn good thing that Rio was big enough to force him to back off. He removed Devon’s hands, turned him around and hauled him in
tight to his side.
“Later. When Maria isn’t listening.”
“Ahem.”
Devon’s face cleared a little. “Maria?”
“Time for you two to leave; local cops caught one of the fleeing ‘guests’ in a speed trap and are sending a few cruisers to investigate. You need to get out now.”
Local cops were a problem. “There won’t be time for a secondary team to clean things up,” Rio said with a frown, thinking about all the bodies down here and, worse, the potential information about demons that could be found.
“Then I guess you need to clean the place up before anyone else gets there. I recommend the gas station.”
Now that was the kind of instruction that Rio could get behind. “Got it.” He turned them around and started to head for the exit.
“No, stop.” Devon tugged against him now, something of a surprise. Rio looked down into his concerned face. “We have to bring him with us.” He pointed back at his very brief flame.
“Why?”
“Because he’s unconscious, and if you do something to this place he’ll be killed.”
Rio resisted the childish urge to roll his eyes. “You do get that he’s not a good guy, right? He’s complicit in everything that’s happened here, even if he wasn’t one of the guys with the guns.”
“Please?” Devon’s pouting was the most ridiculously, adorably heartbreaking thing Rio had ever seen, and he owned a Pomeranian, so that was really saying something.
“Fine. But keep yourself under control!” he admonished as Devon wound his arms in another tight embrace around Rio. He bent over and hoisted the guy up over one shoulder, put his free hand on the back of Devon’s neck, and steered them all out of the prison.
The big central room was practically deserted now. Just the dead, and one girl in a blue dress weeping over the body of Saint Peter. As soon as she saw Rio emerge, she picked up a Taser and fired it at him with an angry cry. He blocked the barbs with the legs of the guy he was carrying, drew his gun and fired at her almost simultaneously. Blood burst like a red flower blossoming from her chest, and she fell back onto her master’s body, silent and still.
Rio took them out the back door, not wanting Devon to see any more evidence of his handiwork if he could help it. Devon was quiet now, still quivering under his touch but more subdued. They walked up a narrow flight of stairs and emerged behind a large ocotillo plant, not too far from a large rocky outcropping. Rio set the unconscious man down and turned to get his bearings.
If it had been a little lighter, if he had gotten in a little sooner, Rio might’ve been able to have to follow Porter Grey’s tracks, but as it was now, he was sure that the man was long gone. “We need to get to my truck.”
Devon just nodded. He clung but didn’t climb as they made their way across the moonlit desert to where Rio had parked his gear, leaving the man Devon had seduced on the ground behind them. Once they were within ten yards, Maggie started to bark, and that actually pulled a smile out of Devon.
“Try to keep her occupied,” Rio said, gently detaching Devon from his side and heading around back to his weapons. He looked over at the motel and the gas station. “You like the gas station, Maria?”
“It’s hooked up to the fuel tank that runs the generator. Could get you a nice chain reaction if you hit the right spot. That’s assuming you have an RPG, of course.”
“Do I have an RPG?” Rio snorted, unlocking a metal case and pulling out his launcher. It was an older Russian model of the RPG7, but it was a workhorse, and reliable. He didn’t get to shoot it as often as he would have liked. “You insult me, woman.” He attached a thermobaric grenade, the last one in his ready stock, to the end of it, and aimed it at the station.
Rio fired, and a second later the little gas station exploded in a shower of fragments and flames. More satisfying, though, was the subsequent explosion that blew out the ground between the station and the motel, and the huge plume of smoke that erupted out of the parking area beneath it. A roiling, black-edged inferno billowed into the night sky, and Rio felt the heat of it against his face. He lowered the launcher and turned back to his truck.
Devon leaned hard against the driver’s side door, his arms wrapped tight around his chest. Maggie was whining and licking his neck from where she’d perched on the edge of the window, but Devon wasn’t responding; he was clearly out of it, hitting a dead end with his energy but still lost in the haze of lust he hadn’t been able to burn off. After Rio locked his gear away and came over to Devon’s side, the young man’s gaze fixed on him desperately.
“Please,” he whimpered, and at that moment Rio would have liked nothing better than to give in and fuck Devon through the hood of his truck, but he could hear sirens approaching in the distance.
“As soon as we’re away from here,” he promised. “Maria, we’re done. You got anything new on Porter?”
“I’m getting satellite feeds up and running on the roads in your area. We’ll be monitoring the cars that are making their escape, and if Porter’s in one of them we’ll soon know. Debrief tomorrow morning, guys. Go take care of yourselves.” She signed off before Rio could even say “Thank you.” There was a good reason Maria was his favorite.
Rio removed his com, then reached for Devon’s earlobes, gently pulled out the faux-diamond studs that concealed his own communicator, and tucked them all away in his pocket. Devon shivered at the touch of Rio’s hands, and Rio knew he had to get moving now if he was going to be able to make enough space between them and the cops to risk pulling over and taking care of Devon. He kissed Devon’s forehead. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Chapter Four
It was a burning, a low, constant burning in his nerves, branching through his whole body. It was supposed to feel good, but after a while the pleasure of it leached out and there was nothing left but aching, painful need. Lust was a drug, but it had to be used for it to be effective, not fruitlessly lacing its host’s veins with no way out. Devon didn’t know how it felt for normal people, but for him, there was only one way to calm down after he’d been using his allure, projecting the raw sexuality that was written into his bones, and that was through sex with another person.
That was the crux, one of the million catch-22’s of being a cambion: they inherited the weaknesses of both of their parents. The human half craved the rush, it would be getting off all the time, by itself or with someone else if it could, but the demon half was constrained. Incubi and succubi hadn’t been created to be the architects of their own fate. Whatever hellish urges drove them, the ones that included orgasm only came into play when they were fulfilling their purpose, and that purpose was procreation. The rest of the time demons could spend their sexual energy in play, in pain—the raw sense of need didn’t overwhelm them, all they felt was hunger once that energy was gone. So cambions were left helpless to their need, burning and unsatisfied until they found someone to spend themselves with.
Fortunately this procreative caveat broke down when it came to gender, so Devon didn’t have to find a woman in order to get off. All he needed was the physical connection. And the person he wanted that connection with was driving waaaay too fucking slowly.
“Rio,” he muttered, so hard in his pants that he was aching. He didn’t touch himself; that would just be adding fuel to the fire. “Please…”
“We’re close, Dev, promise,” Rio said, and he was so perfect and so fucking nearby, it was all Devon could do to keep from crawling along the seat and throwing himself onto Rio’s lap. Maggie was in Rio’s lap instead, and Devon was irrationally jealous of her. Going over there now would be…bad, though. Bad. Rio might crash the car; he wouldn’t be able to see around Devon unless he finished things up really fast, and Devon didn’t want to go fast. He wanted this to last a long time. Fast and then slow, fast and slow, fast and then slow all over again. So he had to wait. He could wait. He could do it.
Deep breaths. Devon tried to remember what his dads had taught him, the best ways to
calm down when he got like this and there was no quick release available. It was so hard, though. When he’d been younger he’d had to learn to live like this for weeks at a time, but it had been different then too. Less intense, easier to handle. It had gotten progressively worse as he’d gotten older, to the point where Devon’d had to give up using his allure at all if he wanted to go more than a few hours without needing a release.
He’d had a good handle on the balance of his powers for years now, though. Devon liked his work, he liked his ability and he loved sex, so normally none of this was a hardship for him. There was no shortage of people out there who were willing to sleep with him, especially when he threw in a hint of allure, something that showed off all his best angles at once. Devon would have had most people on their backs and screaming for joy by now.
Not Rio, though. For whatever reason, his power had never worked on Rio. He didn’t know why and Rio wasn’t telling, but it just added to Rio’s own personal allure for Devon. There was something sexy about playing hard to get, and even when Rio wasn’t playing, he was still harder to get than almost anyone else.
Shit, they must have driven about a hundred miles by now, right? They had to be safe. “Rio…Rio…”
“Yeah, Dev, I know. Hang in there, just a little longer. Someplace with a bed.”
“You already have a bed!” Devon kicked at the dashboard disconsolately, trying to distract himself. “It comes included with the truck, damn it.”
“That would be cramped and dirty, Devon.” Rio’s voice got a little lower. He was already a bass-baritone, and his voice made Devon shiver. “Do you want to do this dirty?”