Hot Demon in the City (Latter Day Demons Book 1)

by Suttle, Connie

  She intended to break us up. Well, break my phantom fiancée and me up.

  Fuck.

  Triple fuck.

  Now what?

  I needed a fiancée in two days.

  Holy, fucking hell.

  "I'll see if I can pry her away from her plans," I sighed.

  "Please do. I look forward to meeting her."

  Visions of Hannah, with a knife held behind her back invaded my thoughts.

  "Of course," I responded. "Thank you for inviting us."

  "It's nothing, darling. See you Saturday."

  I was never so glad to end a call in my life. Hannah Tilton, as predicted, was going to complicate my life terribly.

  I dialed Lexsi's number, then, to ask if she wanted me to grab pizza for dinner on my way to her house.

  * * *

  Lexsi

  Anita came up with the solution I needed, and it surprised me that we hadn't thought of it before. Anita planned to lay her obsession whammy on Hannah the Horrible, and things would work out for everybody.

  At least I hoped they would. We only had to get Anita within speaking range of Hannah, and that looked to be a problem.

  Until Kory came home, loaded down with pizza boxes. He announced that he needed a fiancée by Saturday night, to keep Hannah at arm's length.

  I was on the phone with Anita in three seconds. She agreed to go to Hannah's party with Kory, but we needed a suitable engagement ring. "You know I can't do much—just tell her not to fire you," Anita pointed out. "Too much of a change and people will get suspicious."

  "Wow. So I still get to live in hell, but have job security?" I asked.

  "That about sums it up. Tell handsome hunk to buy an engagement ring and I'll get gussied up for Saturday at Hannah's."

  "I'll let him know," I said.

  "I heard," Kory lifted his second slice of pepperoni from a box and gave me a grin. "I'll find something for her to wear."

  "Why aren't you asking about Anita's special talent?" I studied the sides of boxes, looking for the sausage and mushroom pizza.

  "Hmmph," he said and continued chewing an overly large bite. I took that to mean he wasn't surprised in the least. Well, he knew vampires and werewolves. Why wouldn't he recognize a Sirenali, too?

  Setting his half-eaten slice of pizza on a paper plate, he pulled out the box I wanted without looking at it and handed it to me. I made a face at him before opening it and extracting a wedge for myself.

  He tapped his plate and kept eating. I placed another wedge of sausage and mushroom in front of him, then went looking for a glass of wine. After the day I'd had, I needed it.

  "Don't let that bitch upset you," Kory said emptying half his glass of beer. "Deep down, she's paranoid and insecure."

  "That doesn't help when she calls me her little assistant bitch," I pouted.

  "I realize that's worthy of getting her arm ripped off," Kory looked away for a moment. "Try to hold yourself back."

  "Why—and how—would I do that?" I huffed.

  "You took care of three guys in a parking lot. Your eye looks almost normal," he added.

  "I heal fast," I said and bit into my pizza.

  "Just—try not to take that shit personally. If it weren't you, she'd treat the next woman exactly the same."

  "Yeah. That's what Anita says. I've just never been talked to like that."

  "I know. Ignore it and think whatever you like about her. That's what everybody else does."

  "It sounds easy, the way you say it. Not so easy in reality," I said.

  "I know—I'm just trying to make you feel better right now. This is life, little onion. People will dump shit on you all the time. You just have to find a way to use what you can and slough off the rest. Don't ever let them rule your life with their own fallibilities."

  "Yeah." I pulled out a barstool and sat across from him. I was certainly learning about life the hard way. I hadn't realized how privileged I'd been before running away from home.

  "Don't let depression rule your life, either," Kory rumbled before emptying his beer bottle. "If you let that witch upset you, she wins. Don't let her win. Let your actions define who you are, not hers."

  "You sound like my uncle Sal."

  "Then Uncle Sal must be a wise man," he said.

  "His best friend is even wiser," I sighed and dropped pizza crust onto my plate. "I only talked to him a couple of times, though."

  "Then you'll have to make do with me," he offered a wry smile. "Come on, onion, let's go find an engagement ring that'll fit Anita."

  * * *

  I'm sure Anita didn't appreciate the multiple images I sent her from the jewelry store, but we finally found something she liked in her size. Kory made sure to ask about the return policy before he handed the clerk his credit card.

  The clerk, who frowned the whole time we looked at rings, was no doubt wondering why Kory brought another woman with him to pick out the engagement ring for his fiancée, while keeping her on the phone to make a final decision.

  It wouldn't have made any sense to me, either, so I gave the poor man a pass. The ring wasn't expensive by some standards, but looked like something Kory could afford on his salary.

  None of this would be happening if Hannah the Horrible hadn't filled Vann's spot on the evening news.

  That brought back the images of Donna Raven's dress in the image of Vann at the Romes' party. I considered telling Kory of my discovery, but held back—it held no interest for him. Anita was the one with whom I needed to discuss my findings and speculation.

  "Anything new on the vamps chasing Mike?" I asked when we were inside Kory's Jeep and driving toward the house.

  "Nothing yet, although Watson hasn't checked in," Kory said. "I'm hoping he'll have something. Mason should be awake when we get back, but as he's been asleep all day, unless he's gotten a recent message on his phone, he has nothing, either."

  "I worry about Farin and Rick," I said.

  "They were only trying to find Mike, trust me," Kory observed. "Farin and Rick were just bystanders who got caught up in the frenzy."

  I watched Kory's face as he drove—there was something else he wasn't telling me. Leaning back in my seat, I closed my eyes. He'd either tell me or he wouldn't; I was too tired to pursue it.

  * * *

  Kordevik

  I considered telling Lexsi about the price Granger had on my head, then thought better of it. She was concerned enough as it was, and my story would only make things worse.

  On the plus side, Granger only knew first-hand what I looked like in my humanoid form. He had to rely on witness accounts of my smaller Thifilathi. It made me wonder how much Granger had offered for information.

  Worse yet, what he was offering for my death.

  I'd never had a price on my head before. It wasn't a pleasant experience. High Demons could hold their own in most fights, unless the fight became overwhelming in his opponent's favor.

  If Claudia were in bed with San Francisco's controlling vampire, figuratively and (in all probability) literally, then she could also be out for my blood.

  No, I didn't regret saving Mike and what little was left of Vann—but that situation should have been handled differently. Something had set the supernaturals off in the city, and I wondered what it was.

  If they'd employed common sense, they'd realize they were in danger of outing themselves to the human population. The last I'd heard, neither the Vampire Council nor the Werewolf Grand Master wanted that.

  "Park in the garage," Lexsi said, interrupting my thoughts. I realized we'd reached her house while too many things occupied my mind.

  "Remote?" I asked.

  Lifting a small fob on her key ring, she pressed the button to lift the door. The TinyCar barely took up any space. I maneuvered my Jeep in beside it and shut off the engine.

  "I need more wine," she announced and opened the passenger-side door.

  * * *

  Lexsi

  Day two in Hannah hell went much
like the first, until it was time for me to leave. Hell became worse in a hurry. "I want you to be at the party, just to make sure the caterers are doing their jobs," Hannah swept up to my desk after a meeting with the station's General Manager. "Dress appropriately. If you don't have one of those server jackets, I'm sure they can lend you one. They arrive two hours before the party, so you need to be there, too."

  I was no stranger to a cook's or server's jacket, but her intention was to embarrass and humiliate me in front of everyone else.

  "Yes, ma'am," I gave her a bright, completely false smile. If she thought I'd fail miserably at managing a catering gig, then she should think again. If I'd been my mother, I'd have stared her down.

  I wasn't my mother, sadly enough.

  I was determined to do a good job, however, no matter what the assignment.

  "One more thing," Hannah turned back after walking a few steps away. "The Romes will be at the party. Make a good impression, little bitch."

  * * *

  "I got a copy from one of the assistant editors," I shoved the thumb drive into my laptop at home so I could show Anita what I'd found. "See—that's Donna Raven's back. I recognized her jacket from images I found on her neighbor's security system."

  "Do you have those, too?" She asked.

  "I do." I'd already saved those, so I pulled up Gerta Britt's security recording and placed a frozen image of Donna Raven standing in her driveway next to the photograph from the Romes' anniversary party. Vann and the Romes were so close to Donna Raven's back in the photograph that they could have touched her.

  "That's the same jacket, all right," Anita narrowed her eyes and peered at the image. "Anything new on those murders?"

  "No. I checked during lunch, today. The police think it's a done deal—that the poor woman who offed herself at their house did it and that's the end of it."

  "But you don't think so."

  "No, there's something going on, here. I feel it. The Ravens weren't on the guest list submitted by the Romes' assistant. Why would they do that? Wouldn't they be looking to draw viewers in by saying they were among the last to see the Ravens alive? It makes no sense to me."

  "You could be right," she said and tapped the image of Vann on the screen. "I talked to Mason last night. He says a vampire named Granger is responsible for Vann's death."

  "For real?" I blinked at her.

  "Yeah. There's something else, too. Lee turned in his two-weeks' notice today. He got the other job." Anita sighed and leaned back in her seat.

  "That's too bad. I like him. Everybody else is avoiding me like I have a contagious disease, now," I said.

  "They're just waiting for Hannah to fire you," Anita shrugged.

  "Right. Meanwhile, I have to dress up like a servant and make sure her dinner party goes without a hitch."

  "Watch out for her—she could be looking for an excuse to fire you before the party gets started. I can't help you if that happens."

  "True. Wow. I didn't think of that," I said. "She really is a witch, isn't she?"

  "That's the word I got. Gives actual witches a bad rap, too."

  "I hear that," I agreed. "And call them Wiccans. They're not in the same category as Hannah the Horrible, nor would they want to be."

  "Yeah. Look, just hold on until Kory and I can get there. We'll handle it from there."

  "Thanks," I said. "You don't know how much I appreciate this."

  "Oh, you're gonna cook some of that pasta for me. I barely got a taste before Watson ate it all."

  "Hmmph, that was nothing," I flung out a hand. "You should taste some of the other stuff I cook. Stuff that takes longer," I amended.

  "I'll be waiting," she grinned. "What are you wearing to go with your server's jacket and humble pie?"

  "Black slacks, flats and a white button-down," I replied promptly.

  * * *

  Kordevik

  "Where the hell have you been, man? I haven't heard from you for two days." I glared at Watson as he climbed into my Jeep.

  "Claudia's on a tear, man. Get off my case," he muttered. "She wanted the bar stocked completely. Something about important visitors Saturday night. At least somebody else is running the bar; I'm bushed and I have another full day tomorrow before she opens."

  "Important visitors? Who?"

  "She wouldn't say. I've been all over the place, getting stock for the bar. Whoever's coming likes martinis with French vodka and imported olives."

  "That means nothing to me," I pointed out.

  "Me, either, and I'd have remembered somebody like that. This is somebody I don't know, and since vamps don't care what their drinks taste like, then Claudia's guests are either human, werewolf or shifter. Bet on it."

  "She happen to mention me—or the other me?" I asked.

  "No. Granger didn't come up, either."

  "So she either doesn't want to talk in front of you, or she's letting Granger handle the vendetta."

  "I'd say the latter," Watson frowned. "Can you make a food stop on the way home? Better yet, you think Lexsi's cooking something?"

  "I can ask," I said. "Hit her number and put it through the truck's Bluetooth."

  "Hello?" Lexsi answered her phone.

  "Are you cooking, or do you want us to pick something up?" I said.

  "I can cook," she replied. "What do you want?"

  "Steak," Watson said immediately.

  "Then stop and pick up what you want. Get the best cuts you can find. I'll grill them. I have stuff to go with them."

  "Your wish, my command," Watson sounded as happy as I'd ever heard him.

  "I'll get started on the sauce, now," Lexsi said and hung up.

  "I get steak," Watson grinned. "My wolf is happy."

  * * *

  Lexsi

  "Seared on the outside, raw on the inside. As ordered," I placed the huge T-bone in front of Watson. "Try the sauce, it's incredible."

  I watched as he tentatively put a tiny amount of sauce on the chunk of steak he cut and placed it in his mouth. His eyes grew wide and his smile wider.

  He attacked his steak afterward, but not before he'd dumped all the sauce I'd given him on it first.

  Kory's steak came next; he wanted medium-rare, then Anita's and mine, because we liked ours medium. Every drop of sauce I'd made disappeared, along with the salad and sautéed asparagus.

  "Damn, that was good," Watson growled and rubbed his belly.

  "Want some coffee or something else to drink?" I asked.

  "Nah. Let me savor this. I don't get meals this good very often."

  "That was outstanding," Kory pushed his chair back. "Thank you for cooking. I'll do the dishes; it's only fair."

  "I'll help," Watson scooted his chair back.

  Anita blinked as both men went to work, stuffing plates, pans and flatware into the dishwasher.

  Have you ever seen anything like that before? She sent.

  Only in a few guys, I responded. I like it.

  Who taught you to cook?

  Mom and Gran.

  They must be magnificent cooks.

  They are.

  Chapter 7

  Lexsi

  I wasn't looking forward to dealing with Hannah and her dinner party. I didn't doubt my ability to handle caterers; I did doubt my ability to handle it if she continued to call me little bitch.

  I wanted to punch her in the face for that insult—it pissed me off every time she said it. That was my thought as I gazed at my image in the mirror before leaving the house. The step backward was involuntary when the curl of smoke left my nostrils.

  What. The. Bloody. Hell?

  Only two High Demon females had ever breathed smoke—or turned Thifilatha. What the hell was happening to me?

  Regardless, I couldn't let it slip out again; people would be watching. I didn't need that scrutiny. Shoving down my shock and anger, I straightened the cuffs on my long-sleeved button down and headed for the bedroom door. The sooner I got on the job, the faster it would go.

>   * * *

  Kordevik

  I'd learned from Lexsi during dinner the night before that the Romes were coming to Hannah's party. What it meant was that Anita and I would be forced to stay engaged for a while—to make it appear authentic.

  I wasn't her type, though, and she was comfortable with the fact that she wasn't mine, either. This could save my job as well as Lexsi's. I felt I owed Anita a favor, however, for doing this for us.

  Lexsi had already left the house; she had to be there early to watch over Hannah's caterers. I couldn't imagine that any caterer would need that much supervision. Unless, I allowed a bit of smoke to curl from my nostrils.

  This was a setup. I should have recognized it for what it was; Hannah's excuse for firing Lexsi, because she wouldn't be able to handle what she didn't have any experience with.

  Except she did. I knew where Lexsi got her talent in the kitchen. I'd eaten at Dee's and Desh's in Targis. You couldn't get better food in either Alliance. "Fuck you, Hannah Tilton," I muttered, straightening the bowtie on my tux. "Lexsi Silver can make mincemeat of you—and make you taste good with the perfect sauce and wine to go with your sour ass."

  * * *

  Lexsi

  It would have been better if Hannah had informed me that all food would be cooked on the premises, in her overly large, Sausalito mansion. She'd failed to mention that one vital piece of information.

  The head cook had also failed to show up.

  Whether there was a legitimate excuse or it was by design remained to be seen.

  The caterer had sent a group of relatively inexperienced staff to help the head cook, which left me in something of a bind. Hannah wanted sashimi. She wanted salads. She wanted a multitude of other items, paired with appropriate wines and drinks.

  She fluttered in and out while I rounded up the troops I'd been allotted. Somebody cooked rice. Another two chopped vegetables. Someone else was set to carefully slice tuna, Kobe beef and other delicacies. He appeared to have the most experience in the group; nevertheless, I watched carefully until I was sure he knew what he was doing.

  "We have twenty pounds of fresh shrimp in the van," a young woman informed me.

  "Then bring it in," I said. "We'll make pasta with seafood sauce. I assume you have cream and spices with you? I'll need some of the crab, too. Can you do that for me?"