20 Shades of Shifters_A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  Another bolt of lightning, this one much more powerful. Almost angry. I reappeared in the apartment, smoke rising from my whole body, my hair frazzled.

  Slowly, painfully, the realisation dawned.

  Asmodeus was telling the truth. I wasn’t able to plane shift home. I was stuck here…for now, at least. Forever?

  “What am I supposed to do?” I asked, trying to keep a slight shake out of my voice. I…I couldn’t stay on the mortal realm. I just couldn’t. I’d have to live in hiding my entire life, or the nephilim would find me and destroy me. “Help me out a bit, hey?”

  “Well,” said Asmodeus, his tail swaying gently behind him, “fortunately I’m authorised to offer you a deal. Typical Hell stuff. Barely Faustian at all.”

  Barely Faustian? Well, I wasn’t exactly in a place to be picky. I wanted to bargain, or at least try to come up with a better deal, but I knew in my heart I would probably take anything at that point. “Okay,” I said, cautiously. “I’m listening. What do I need to do?”

  “Simple,” said Asmodeus, tapping his finger against his temple. “Figure out a way to get back into Hell’s good graces, toots. They’re the ones that kicked you out, right? So just make nice. Find out how to make the pit lords happy.”

  I scowled darkly. “How am I supposed to do that if I have no idea who I am or why I got kicked out?”

  “Never said it would be easy,” said Asmodeus, his voice betraying no small amount of pride. “It was technically my idea.”

  “Well,” I spat, “don’t do me any favours.”

  He snorted. “I won’t, with that attitude. Anyway. The point is, you prove you’re a lusty, nasty demon worthy of the pits, and baby, you’ll probably earn your right to go home.”

  Probably. Wow. “That’s just fucking great.” I reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Where am I going to find even a hint toward how I can make Hell happy again? They don’t exactly make it easy for people to know they even exist on this place.”

  Asmodeus shrugged helplessly.

  “Okay,” I said, my tone icing up. “Where do you think I should look?”

  “Babe, this is a train-ride away from New York and New Jersey City University is just down the road. Sleep with some guys. Get info from them. I don’t know; you’re the succubus, this is your game, sugar. Find the most evil, nasty person you can find and get what he knows. Find out what schemes they’re into. Use that.”

  I wanted to rustle my wings, but I was still shapeshifted. “It’s still basically impossible.”

  He groaned. “Look. If you get stuck, there are…options. Need-to-know-basis kind of deal, okay? But for now, you’re the sex demon.” He made a little shooing motion. “So go have sex. Fuck some guys! Hell, it’s 2018. Fuck some girls too. Anyone counts as long as they can help you. Screw your way to information.”

  I got the distinct impression he was trying to tell me something he otherwise couldn’t. Have sex…how could that possibly help? “Do I have any time limit?”

  “Nah. You wanna spend a few centuries kicking around Earth? Be my guest. Just maintain your guise as a normal human. Stay undercover. Incognito.” His tone became dark and ominous. “You don’t want to piss off the nephilim.”

  Of course I didn’t want that. I wasn’t suicidal. “And…where exactly should I go?”

  “Like I said,” said Asmodeus, his tone a little belittling. “There’s a college campus nearby. NJCU. They don’t exactly take attendance and you can fit in there. Go to a party or something; you know what these places are like, full of drunk, horny twenty-somethings who’ll be more than happy to help you fill your quota. Fuck some people, like a whole bunch, and squeeze them for how they can help make Hell love you again. Then you can go back. Consider it…a test of loyalty.”

  Right. Loyalty. Why they’d want to test me in that way made no sense. I’d always been a loyal soldier in the pit’s armies. Pit-izens, they called us. Good folk. Strong cultural roots.

  “In the meantime,” he said, “there’s plenty of clothes to choose from, and a phone you can use. Just ask me if you need anything else.” He jerked his tiny thumb toward a closed door. “Your room is there. Good luck, sugar.”

  Great. Just…great.

  Safe House

  Room 313

  Heavenly Apartments

  New Jersey

  My room was a smaller version of the main foyer; a big, lavishly decorated hotel room that looked like something out of Trump Tower. Two narrow, tall windows overlooked Jersey City, letting in only a little light, casting everything in a dim, gloomy palate. A heart-shaped bed with rose-red sheets dominated the centre of the room, flanked by two heart-shaped bedside tables; one had a lamp, the other, a black iPhone covered in flame stickers. A whole wall was nothing more than a huge, open walk-in robe that stretched on seemingly for miles, full of rack after rack of clothes. Asmodeus hadn’t lied when he’d said there were plenty to wear. In the en suite, a massive silver tub with bubbling hot water and a rack of heated towels. I now knew where the smell of brimstone was coming from; my nose tingled as the bubbles popped.

  It smelled like home.

  Time to clean myself up. I stepped into the en suite. In the mirror, I could see the face I’d adopted. The left side of my face was burned pretty badly. I didn’t hurt at all but it looked ugly as anything. No wonder my face had hurt when I woke up.

  I couldn’t helliport, but I hoped I had my other powers. I drew myself inward again, shifting my form. The burned skin melted away and disappeared. At least that worked.

  New plane of existence, new me. I cycled between a few of my favourite forms, my body emitting faint crunching noises as my bones rearranged themselves. Maybe I could be Li Mei? A Chinese form I’d picked up from the turn of the century. I studied her face. She was cute as a button, busty and with short cropped hair, but a little too old. Imani was African woman; that might work…but she was a little tall for me, and long hair was a pain. It went down to her waist. Plus she was just a kid. No way she would pass for a college student.

  Maybe…Tatanya.

  Oh yeah. This was it. Tatanya. Platinum blonde, legs that went out to forever, and a body that was at once delicate and strong. Twenty-two when she died, with smooth pale skin and blood red lips. She, like all my forms, was once a real person; in life she’d been a cannibal, driven to eating her dead family during the Siege of Stalingrad. After the war she discovered she developed a taste for ‘long pork’, gotten greedy, gotten caught, shot, sent to Hell and to me.

  Her soul had shrieked and wailed delightfully as I drank it up, and when it was utterly consumed I had taken her form and her voice as my own.

  “How she screamed,” I said, testing out her voice. It was smooth as silk, with just a little sexy edge to it. Perfect. “How she cried…”

  Now I’d decided on what I wanted to look like, I went to clean up. I slid into the tub and let out a long sigh. Banished…would I ever again taste the flames of Hell? Smell the real brimstone? I had nothing to go on. And if I didn’t get back to Hell, there’d be no more souls for me to drink. No demon had ever been banished before. The long term effects of this were a mystery.

  Asmodeus buzzed into the room like some kind of annoying bee. He had a tiny satchel in his hands. “Hey,” he said, tail lashing behind him. “I almost forgot. Gotta ink ya.”

  “Ink?”

  “Tattoo,” he said, fluttering over to the side of the tub and opening the satchel, revealing a little needle and a set of inks. “Special one. It tracks your progress. Every time you take a step closer to your goal, you should get a little ding in your head.” He smiled malevolently. “What, you think the pit lords would accept your word for it?”

  Yeah, I guessed they wouldn’t. But at least I had some hint. I held out my arm.

  “It’ll fade away when you’re done.” Asmodeus flew up to my shoulder, perching there delicately and leaning over my arm, needle in hand. His hands became a blur; the needle went in, buzzing as it depos
ited ink under my skin. It hurt. I squeezed my hand through the pain.

  Slowly, Asmodeus drew out a pentagram on my skin about the size of a penny, and then stopped and regarded his work.

  “It’ll ding every time you get closer,” said Asmodeus. “Just a little note in your head. One ding when you get to the party—kind of a test. Another one when you met the target. And one when you’re done.” He held up a hand. “Oh, and I know you’re a succubus, so I gotta tell you. When it comes to sex…three rules. One: it has to be consensual, or you’ll attract too much attention to yourself. Two: Nothing too weird, same reason. Three: No devils or damned souls. Give ‘em a kiss and you’ll know what they are.”

  “I know how kissing works,” I said, sliding out of the bath and yanking one of the towels off the rack, wiping myself down. I eyed off the tattoo in the mirror; the sting was fading, and it was small. Easily covered up with clothes. I wandered over to the endlessly long wardrobe and peered inside. “I better get started.”

  “Yeah,” said Asmodeus, fluttering in front of me, his hands on his hips. “You better.” He stopped, eyes widening, and he touched his ear as though he was a secret service agent listening to some unheard voice. “Wait, I got something else for you. A tip from the pit.”

  “Yeah?” I said, casually pulling a hoodie off the rack. It came with a set of black panties and bra, tight jeans, and a white t-shirt.

  Asmodeus listened for a moment, a sly smile on his face. “Oh baby, you’re in luck. Listen to this. Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Looks like one of our agents got discovered by a celestial and terminated. It’d take days to free up another succubus for this operation, normally, so we’d have to cancel…but you’re right here. Convenient.”

  “Convenient,” I echoed. “But what’s in it for me?”

  “Do this job,” said Asmodeus, “and I’m authorised to give you a free tip.”

  Just a free tip? Better than nothing I guessed. “Okay,” I said, sliding the panties up my legs. “What do I have to do?”

  “Simple,” said Asmodeus, flashing row after row of sharp, tiny teeth. “Go to a house party.”

  I stared, waiting for more instructions. “And?”

  “And nothing. That’s it, baby.”

  That didn’t seem right to me. “That’s it?”

  “Almost. Basically, the story is: a bunch of dumb college kids from NJCU are having a drunken party in Jersey City. Tonight. There’s a mark there, someone we’re keeping our eye on. I don’t know who. All I know is that the target has pretty important family connections. If you get a chance, find out what they are. Leverage them. We want him under our thumb and by all accounts, sex is the way to do it. But if you can’t, no biggie. As long as he sees your face, gets to know you, trust you, that’s all we need. We’re playing the long game here. It’s a milk run. Promise.”

  That made sense. It was standard demon fare. Corrupt the child, blackmail the parent. “Anything else?” I asked. “Like, a name might be helpful.”

  Asmodeus shook his head. “This is all need-to-know, and there’s a lot that’s above me. The pit lords said you’ll know it when you see it.” He smiled like some kind of evil cat. “Doll-face, this is taking candy from a baby right here. They’re drunk. They’re horny. They will melt like butter. Just go there, blend in, find out which kid is the son of a politician or…whatever. Get in his head. Or pants. Whatever works for you.”

  I squirmed my way into a pair of jeans, and then pulled the t-shirt up over my head. That actually sounded like a nice way to get some credit with the pit…and anyway, I needed to know what Asmodeus knew. “Sounds promising,” I said. “Where is this party?”

  “Guy called Damien Anderson’s house. Our agent has a persona, Jessica, but obviously she can’t make it since she’s dust now. Just pretend to be her friend or something.” He jabbed his thumb toward the bedside table and the phone there. “I’ll text you the address.”

  “Go to a drunken frat party, posing as Jessica’s friend, at Damien’s house.” I flipped my hoodie over my head, giving a look out the window to the setting sun. “What can go wrong?”

  Party Time

  Damien’s House

  New Jersey

  It took me a little while to find Damien’s place. The train was crowded and the Uber late, but I got there.

  I didn’t want to arouse suspicion so I had the driver drop me off a few blocks away and I walked the rest of the way. I was glad I did. The rain had cleaned the streets, making everything smell fresh and clean and distinctly mortal. But below the pleasant smell I could smell the sneaky, sin-filled reek of humanity.

  So many sinners, rank and foul, but so many sweet, innocent souls too. All of them filled the city to its brim. Crammed into the streets. Packed into cars. Filling every house and car park and shopping mall. A tide of flesh, ripe for the picking. So many people. Maybe coming to the mortal realm might be good for me…it was good to stretch my legs. Lucifer’s Teeth, it might even be fun.

  Finally, I got to the address Asmodeus had texted me. It was a massive two-story condo that was almost some kind of waterfront McMansion. It looked, vaguely, look a squashed version of the house from Home Alone; tall and white, with a neatly cared for lawn and garden, and a rear that backed up to the water. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows could see a boat moored at a miniature pier, bobbing slightly in the Hudson River.

  Damien had a nice place, I had to admit that. Or rather his folks did. That sent my brain ticking. Places like this were not cheap. Damien was probably the mark.

  Loud, bopping music drifted out from the open door, followed by the scent of beer, BO, and sweat. Through the windows I could see college kids drinking, laughing, smoking, and generally revelling.

  A house party at a waterfront condo. Just like the nasty little imp had said. Perfect.

  It was time for me to do what I was good at: seducing people. I pulled back my hoodie, carefully messing up my hair so it had that perfectly sculpted pseudo-bed-head look, and then I headed in.

  Before I even got to the door, a guy came out to meet me, smiling a polite, slightly nervous smile. He was tall, with tanned skin and a slim build, and although there was an unsteady edge to his smile, he was quite good looking. He had a red solo cup in hand and was wearing a black open shirt over a white T and slim jeans.

  “Hey,” he said, giving me a little salute with the cup. “Here for the party?”

  “Definitely,” I said, giving my best smile. This must be Damien. “I’m Grace. Looks like a ripper of a rager, huh?”

  The guy glanced over his shoulder then back to me. “Yeah,” he said, awkwardly slipping his cup into his other hand then sticking out his arm. “Nice to meet you, Grace. I’m Gabe.”

  A handshake? Really? I put my hand in his, squeezing. As I did, I caught a whiff of his scent; rich and sweet and gentle, fresh and clean, like a crisp sea breeze. He was a good guy, right down to his bones. Goodness seeped through his very skin, flesh, every part of him, filling the air with its smell.

  Gross. The stench made me annoyed. I squeezed his hand tighter.

  “Oooh,” he said, wincing and pulling back his hand. “Real tough grip you have there.”

  “I’m stronger than I look,” I said, unable to keep a little smile from sneaking across my face. “My dad always said I had the devil’s hands.”

  “Well, hopefully they aren’t idle playthings,” said Gabe, his smile returning. “Cool accent, by the way. English?”

  My affection was actually not deliberate. It had just stuck after a visit and I couldn’t get rid of it. “Australian.”

  “Neat.” His smile widened. “So, Grace, you’re here with anyone, or…?”

  That was guy-speak for do you have a boyfriend? “I’m Jenny’s friend,” I said, keeping things vague, craning my head slightly. “She said she was going to meet me here.” I slipped a little teasing lie in there. “Something about her boyfriend just dumping her, allegedly, so she was looking to get totally
white-girl-wasted and see what happens. As for me? Well, we’ll see. Is she here yet, or…?”

  “Ah, Jenny hasn’t shown up yet,” said Gabe, seeming to like that answer. He took a big swig of his beer, smiling at me in a way that was actually fairly genuine. “Still, any friend of hers is a friend of mine. Come on in, we’ll get you set up with a drink and introduce everyone.”

  I fell in beside him as he turned and led me through the doorway, into the raucous party. The volume hurt my ears but I knew I’d get used to it shortly.

  “So tell me, Gabe,” I said, ‘accidentally’ bumping my hip against his as we walked. “I heard Damien’s dad is real important. Or is it his mum? I forget.”

  He seemed to consider, sipping at his beer. He raised his voice over the music. “I dunno. I know they’re rich. I think his mum owns that gun company. The one that has the new contract with the military?”

  Right. Then the guy probably was Damien. “I love guns,” I said, stepping past a couple making out, trying to figure out how I was going to bluff my way into that. I had no idea about guns at all but this was good. Gave me a goal. “You can introduce me, right?”

  “Funny, Jessica was going to introduce me,” said Gabe, a slight flush crossing his perfectly innocent cheeks. “I don’t know him personally, but this is my first time at one of these things and I was hoping he’d have a job for me over the summer. Jessica mentioned that might be a possibility.”

  Ding.

  I felt it in my head. A loud, clear chime that seemed to come from directly behind me. I looked about. Nothing. But I’d heard it alright. The signal that I’d arrived. It made me smile. I was on my way back to Hell.

  Step one of three. I’d have this job done in no time.

  “You okay?” asked Gabe, concerned.

  “I’m fine,” I said, flashing my best smile. “Just thought I saw someone I knew here.”

  Gabe looked at me curiously for a second and then shrugged. “A’right,” he said, leading me further into the massive house, through a crowd of people.