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Unholy Proposal (Unholy Inc Book 1)

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by Misty Dietz




  UNHOLY PROPOSAL

  Unholy Inc Book One

  Misty Dietz

  Contents

  Blurb

  Unholy Inc Terminology

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Please enjoy this Sneak Peek of UNHOLY LEGACY

  UNHOLY LEGACY

  Also by Misty Dietz

  About the Author

  UNHOLY PROPOSAL

  Copyright © 2017 by Misty Dietz

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  MISTY MEDIA

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-943716-06-7

  Print ISBN: 978-1-943716-07-4

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-943716-06-7

  UNHOLY PROPOSAL

  Bumping into the Devil was something bartender/law student Jessie Blaze never expected. And go figure…he’s wickedly charming. Jessie just wants to finish school and take care of grandma and grandpa. But sexy night club owner Nate Temple tempts her with his heated touch, unholy proposal, and racy alliances—screwing everything up.

  Nate Temple isn’t actually the Devil, but a supernatural demon hunter tasked with guarding humanity and a holy relic as punishment for being a first class bastard while human. When Lucifer’s son, Asmodeus, arrives from Hell to steal the relic, Nate faces the greatest challenge of his Guardianship…especially when the Demon Prince realizes just how much Jessie means to Nate.

  Jessie can’t resist Nate’s dark secrets, wild spirit, and outrageous confidence in her. So when her man is threatened and called to save the world, there’s only one thing a modern woman can do…Dance with the Devil.

  In order to know virtue, we must first acquaint ourselves with vice.

  ~Marquis de Sade

  For my brother, who is spectacularly acquainted with both.

  Unholy Inc Terminology

  amplio – the heightened senses (gorgeous colors and wonderful taste) that a human or another Guardian can instigate in a male Guardian. Bonded compars instigate amplio, but not all cases of amplio are with one’s compar. Some Guardians think it’s simply a gift for good behavior.

  bagh nakh — a weapon with claw-like blades inspired by the armature of big cats that is made of iron which, when in contact with a demons, makes the being’s flesh as corporeal as a human’s. And just as vulnerable. It can’t kill higher level demons, but it can wound them enough that they have to retreat.

  barmpot — British slang for clumsy idiot. It isn’t really offensive — it’s used more in goading fun than anything else.

  chav – British slang for white trash

  chrism oil—Consecrated by the bishop on Holy Thursday, chrism oil burns and weakens demons even more substantially than holy water. Made of balsam. And if thrown on a demon’s shade after it had left its human vessel, chrism oil would exterminate the demon forever. Usually kept in pewter bottles inscribed IO—oleum infirmorum, oil of the sick.

  collywobbles — British word for extreme queasiness or stomach pain brought on by stress, nervousness, or anxiety.

  compar — a Guardian’s soul mate, however, as the Archangel Michael says, “There is no one person who is your only hope, as there is no limit on a human’s capacity to love.” Bonded compars amplify each other’s powers.

  Dei Patris – God the Father

  devil’s trap — a mystical symbol used to immobilize and control demons. It is similar to a circle of salt, but more powerful and persistent as it is usually etched or painted in place, and can't simply be brushed or blown away. If a demon walks inside the circle of a devil's trap, it cannot physically leave it, and is trapped. Devil's traps also inhibit the use of some demonic powers. Devil's traps have been used not only to detain a demon, but are also drawn at entrances as a deterrent to prevent access to a building, room, or container.

  domo — massive vanquishing ceremony for demon byproducts and evil-summoning objects. The ceremony requires at least two Guardians to perform, more if the cache of evil was enormous. The ceremony’s back draft sucks all demons within a ten block radius into a state of nothingness. And those demons are vanquished for all time.

  incubus – the male fallen angel counterpart to the Succubus. The demon appears in a human’s dreams to seduce him or her for sex energy to maintain an attractive glamour. In their true form they have long, leonine tails and the iridescent scales growing up their shins from their feet.

  oleum infirmorum—oil of the sick (Latin), also known as chrism oil. A mixture of olive oil and balsam, blessed by the bishop on Holy Thursday. Used for anointing in Baptism, Confirmation, and Holy Orders, in the consecration of churches, chalices, patens, altars, and altar-stones, and in the solemn blessing of bells and baptismal water. Kept in pewter vessels with glass interiors and inscribed with OI on the front of the vessel. A powerful demon weapon, it has the same effect as holy water (burning, temporary immobilizer), but much stronger. If thrown on a demon’s shade it kills them permanently.

  ponce—British word for a man who is pretentious in an effeminate manner.

  sanctorum — a spiritually-warded protection room where no demons can enter. It’s also where they house powerful, ancient religious relics (in reliquaries), and stockpile demon byproducts and evil-summoning objects.

  shuriken — throwing stars, soaked in holy water. Can kill all but the archdemons if they are embedded in both eye sockets.

  stroppy — British word for recalcitrant, in a bad mood or temper.

  succubus (succubi, plural) — a female fallen angel who appears who appears in a human’s dreams to seduce him or her for sex energy to maintain an attractive glamour. In their true form they have brown horns, emerald hair, and rust colored, bat-like wings.

  xiphos — a double-edged, single-hand sword used by the ancient Greeks for close combat. Made of iron and forged by the Commanding Archangel Michael. Its leaf-shaped design lends itself to both cutting and thrusting. Beheading lower order demons with it kills them permanently. It can kill higher order demons, but it is a complex process. The xiphos is used to behead and extract the demon’s heart. Then the demon’s heart needs to be submerged in holy water and exposed to a holy relic. If this is all accomplished before the demon can regenerate a new head, the high order demon will be vanquished for all time.

  wally — British word for buffoon, fool; milder form of idiot.

 
Chapter 1

  Jessie Blaze whapped her wooden spoon on the kitchen counter and grimaced at the apartment wall where her neighbor’s headboard had been banging off and on for damn near three hours. A sexual boot camp that made it nearly impossible to study for tomorrow’s Constitutional Law test, which she was going to flunk if she didn’t get some food and serenity around here stat.

  “Whoever he brought home’s not gonna be able to walk for a week. Grrr.” She leaned down to bare her teeth at Scourge, her ten-year-old Chihuahua who was sitting in his chair at the table. Scourge growled right back before giving her a sloppy doggy kiss.

  The wall abuse continued, only now her neighbor’s bed buddy added vocals in an impressive soprano. Jessie rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress a shiver. It had been six months since she’d scratched that kind of itch, and she wouldn’t be breaking the dry spell any time soon. Being a female bartender provided loads of opportunities for sexual escapades, but watching people get liquored up and making all the same mistakes night after night had a way of dampening her enthusiasm for accepting any of the inevitable offers. And between work, school, worrying about her insecure uncle, and taking care of Gramma and Grampa, there simply wasn’t time to get to know anyone.

  So here she was, twenty-six-going-on-sixty, trying to be responsible and study, but instead only managing to visualize herself as the one pressed up against her mysterious and well-mannered neighbor’s tall, hard body. Those sculpted shoulders rising above her, his come here I wanna bite you lips descending, her skin burning for his touch…

  Burning?

  Smoke from the pan.

  Water sizzling as it overflowed the pot of spaghetti.

  Jessie lunged for the stove, swearing. She pulled both the pan of charred hamburger and the pot of noodles off the burners, cussing again as boiling water sloshed across the stovetop.

  Stupid Nate. Why’d he have to flaunt his hookup like this? She could’ve sworn she’d seen attraction in his twinkling blue eyes whenever they passed in the hall. She’d even noticed him inhaling deeply like he was appreciating a wine’s rich bouquet whenever he held the door open for her. Which was a little creepy, but his sexy smile mitigated the weird factor. She hadn’t seen him with anyone before, so she’d hoped he might be single and…

  You are so lame, Jessie.

  And unfair. She didn’t know much about him other than he had a sexed-up British accent, a smile that made her knees weak, a body that made her forget her own name, and eyes that made her slumbering right brain wake up and spout poetry. Just because he knew his way around a woman’s body—some other woman’s body, gah—didn’t mean she should take her sexual frustrations out on him.

  If only she could really be JBlaze—her alter ego when she tied on her bar apron.

  An ass-kicking, name-taking, booty poppin’ diva.

  Jessie looked down where Scourge licked a pile of noodles off the floor. She turned off both burners and picked up her dog as a new round of moaning and headboard slamming began next door. Her dreams—and worries—were bigger than a momentary heartbreak by a guy who could charm a chastity belt off a nun.

  “Looks like we’re gonna have to swing by McDonalds before hitting the library, Scourgie. You’ll have to hide in my purse again.” With only two hours before the law library closed, she didn’t want to fuss with getting gussied up. Besides, Mr. Charisma was already occupied next door, and she seriously doubted any hunky law students would be prowling the library this late on a Friday night. She shoved her papers and books into her bag, slipped on her fuzzy boots, grabbed her coat, purse, keys, and Scourge. She hustled out the door and…

  Bumped into a fantasy.

  “Whoa! Easy there, angel.” A deep voice rolled over her skin.

  A British voice.

  Hell in a handbasket.

  Nate.

  Jessie ducked her head and pushed out of his grasp because she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup. Or a bra. Balls. Not a good call when you’re a double D. She pulled her book bag and Scourge in front of her like a Kevlar vest. Then noticed she’d knocked a bunch of grocery bags out of his hands when she’d barreled out of her apartment at Mach whatever.

  She and Nate bent down to the grocery bags at the same time and knocked heads at the precise moment the woman in Nate’s apartment reached her throat-ripping climax. Nate made a low sound like he was in pain, causing all the skin on Jessie’s upper body to prickle. Her gaze shot up to find his saturated blue eyes burning with intensity and his lips—oh wow—those beautiful lips just inches from her own. “Y-you aren’t home?”

  His ultra serious expression slid away as a slight dimple peeked beside his lips. Had she really spoken out loud? OMG, Jessie. Her face had to be drowning in an ocean of red. “What I mean is…” I’m so deliriously happy you’re not the one banging that chick into next week.

  There was nothing she could say that would make this less awkward, so she handed him a red pepper, wondering what he planned to do with it. Guys like him didn’t cook with fresh produce. Honestly. “Glad the eggs are okay, and sorry to plow you over,” she managed without stuttering again.

  He ignored the jug of pomegranate juice, Gruyere cheese, and various types of produce splayed across the floor, choosing to pet Scourge, the little traitor, who’d bailed from her bag and now had his front paws on Nate’s chest. “They’ve been a mite loud, eh? Good for them. I thought they’d be finished by now. How long have they been at it?”

  Her mouth gaped for a spit second before she recovered. “I am so not having this conversation with you.” The heat in his eyes made her suddenly aware of her pointy, unprotected nipples. She rearranged her scarf over her breasts the best she could. Then she reached for Scourge and stuffed him in back in her bag. “See you around, Nate.”

  She started to rise when he grabbed her elbow and helped her to her feet. “Hey, where are you going so late anyway?”

  As casually as possible, she pulled a few more strands of hair out of her messy bun to flitter around her face. All the better to hide behind because these awful fluorescent hallway lights managed to point out every imperfection on your mug. “It’s not late for night owls like me. I’m heading out for a bite to eat.”

  Moans started anew next door. Nate stepped closer, raising Jessie’s heart rate tenfold.

  “Well, what do you know, I quite like the night, too. I have a deal for you, Jessica.”

  Of course he did.

  But she’d never tried a foursome, and tonight was damn well not going to be her first. Her glance raked him over, from his scuffed leather boots, up his jean-clad, muscle-bound thighs, to the snap-front olive shirt rolled to expose his sexy forearms—doesn’t he feel the cold? It’s like forty degrees outside—to those lips, those all-seeing eyes, and that carelessly artful mahogany hair. Talk about a total contrast to her oversized University of Minnesota sweatshirt, UGG boots, and spaghetti sauce-splattered yoga pants. Back away from the pretty man, Jessie. “I…I’m sorry. I have to get to the library to study. Big test tomorrow.”

  He tilted his head to one side with a lazy smile that made her anything but relaxed. “Let me be of assistance. In fact, we can aid one another. You’ve got to admit, I can’t possibly go in and interrupt that.” He gave her a perfectly-executed wink that he had to have practiced in a mirror. “Like I said, I thought they’d be sated by now. But since they’re not, and I have these,” he lifted his grocery bags, “let me cook us a quiche while you study. I promise not to be a bother.”

  “What?” He couldn’t be serious.

  “I’ll even quiz you after a while.”

  “Quiz?” she squeaked.

  “Indeed. I’ll ask questions from the chapter you’re studying, and you can answer.” How did he get his eyes to twinkle like that? “Then I’ll feed you quiche,” he said.

  “Quiche?”

  “You know, eggs, cream—”

  She squeezed Scourge so hard he yelped. Come on, Jess, full sentences. “I know what quiche is
.”

  “If you don’t like it, I can make something else. Trust me, I’m an experienced cook.”

  This was just…bizarre. “I like quiche,” she mumbled.

  “Great!”

  When he reached for her doorknob, she finally shook out of her stupor. “No, wait!” Why would he make her quiche? She pointed to his door. “Go in there and tell them to take their party elsewhere. Good grief, they’ve been at it for two and half hours already.”

  “Look, here’s what happened. My mate Dorian got to town and didn’t take the time to find a hotel room before he hooked up. When he asked to use my place, I didn’t realize he was so depleted. My apologies.”

  Depleted? What an odd way to describe horny, but whatever. Scourge squirmed in her bag. “Well, by now I’m sure he’s dulled the edge enough to wait fifteen minutes to find a hotel for the rest of the night. I’d kick them out if I were you,” she said.

  Nate shrugged. “I don’t want to pester them when they’re having such a grand time. Come on, Jessica. Let me prepare a meal for you.” His eyes mapped the contours of her body from top to bottom. He smiled when his gaze made it back to hers. “I promise it’ll be good.”

  Oh, wow. This guy was a walking innuendo. TWTA: Trouble With a Tight Ass. Good looks do not preclude homicidal intentions, Jess. Ted Bundy had been a reasonably handsome guy with loads of charm, too.

  So they said.

  Did serial killers cook quiche, though?

  A tiny voice inside her head told her to open her door and hold on for the ride. Jessie peered into Nate’s eyes looking for the tell-tale vacancy she’d read about in her undergrad abnormal psych classes. She shivered when she found the opposite of vacancy. So much depth there, she could fall right into his eyes. Her fingers tightened on her bag strap. “Okay, you can come in, but only for a little while.” Heart thumping overtime, she turned to unlock her door, then cringed when she saw the ungodly mess she’d left in the kitchen. “Crap. I forgot how I left the place. Guess this isn’t going to work after all.”

 

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