Last Call Europe: Devil’s Advocate
Belinda McBride
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Copyright ©2010 Belinda McBride
ISBN: 978-1-60521-392-7
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www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Vicki S. Burklund
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Adult Sexual Content
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Last Call Europe: Devil’s Advocate
Belinda McBride
Tiger shifters Mya and David have a problem. Every time Mya gets aroused, it wakens a beast within her that threatens to overpower her tiger. Unable to consummate their marriage with a proper mating, they turn in desperation to Last Call, looking for a demon to undo the curse that afflicts her.
Jedidiah Wormwood Worth is a powerful demon and at the top of his field. He’s not only a devious trickster who will rob you of your soul, he’s also a successful attorney for the underworld -- the real underworld. When he sees the straitlaced shifters at the specialty bar, he knows they’ll be his. What he doesn’t realize is that by the time the night ends, his heart will belong to them.
Devil’s Advocate: Sex for a service, damnation not included.
Devil’s Advocate
One shot Bacardi Limon Rum
One shot Triple Sec
Four ounces Cranberry Juice
One tablespoon Grenadine Syrup
Three-fourths ounce Sweet and Sour mix
Combine in a chilled shaker. Shake well, strain over ice cubes and serve in an old fashioned glass.
Chapter One
“Are you sure that you want to do this?”
They’d asked one another that question about a dozen times already, and the answer was always the same, regardless of who spoke.
This time, Mya Sullivan answered her husband.
“We have no choice, David. If we ever want a normal life together, we have no choice.” Hands crept across the surface of the table, fingers linked, and Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan looked deeply into one another’s eyes. On the smooth surface of the table, a menu lay open. They’d spent a good half hour scanning it for just the right drink. The Sullivans hadn’t come to Last Call to play; they’d come to London’s premiere paranormal bar out of desperation.
Mya gazed at her husband, and as always, she was awed by his sheer physical beauty. She was still amazed that they’d found one another when she came from the United States, and he’d been born in Jaipur, India. A chance meeting at the Victoria and Albert Museum brought them together, and after their wedding, they’d opted to settle in London, where David had spent most of his life.
“We could take a more traditional route; perhaps hire a sorcerer or a witch…” She trailed off. They’d discussed this, and had realized that the practitioner in question would have to possess singularly specific abilities to carry out the task that they needed. Then there was the question of payment. Mya and David had bright futures, but as newlyweds just starting out, they were poor as the proverbial church mice.
David ran a hand through his black-on-black hair. It was cut just above the collar, a reluctant concession to his new position as a staff psychiatrist at an upscale clinic. When the light struck it just so, darker streaks of black wove through the inky darkness, so dark they were nearly purple.
His father had been Irish, his mother Indian, and he had inherited her melting dark eyes and sensual features. Those black stripes in his hair were her legacy as well. His father was there in the lively dimples in his cheeks, the ready laughter and quick wit.
Mya had never been certain what he saw in her, but she’d never questioned David, not once since he’d vowed his love for her. Because of their very natures, neither Mya nor David was capable of lying, particularly to one another. She lifted his hand, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin of his palm. Even as she did so, misery flooded her; misery and guilt.
She’d had no idea that the long-ago misadventures of her family would come down on her head all these years later.
“Mya, don’t. This isn’t your fault.”
She smiled, casting her gaze down at their linked fingers. A modest diamond sparkled on her left hand. He said that now, but after a year of being unable to consummate their marriage, she knew that his patience would soon grow thin; he’d eventually begin to grow resentful, and perhaps even stray from her side.
While their kind mated for life, Mya and David had never mated. They had never made love to one another.
Someday she would lose him. The thought tightened her belly and caused her heart to race. Her animal clawed at her in panic.
Music swelled through the room, too loud for where they were seated. The DJ prattled away; she couldn’t follow his stream of nonsense. Bodies brushed against theirs as couples moved to the dance floor. David tugged her hand.
“Shall we dance?”
She flushed and rose, reaching down to take one more sip of her seltzer water. Sex was entirely too dangerous to indulge in, and alcohol also pushed her to the edge of her control. A wedge of lime brushed her mouth, and she licked the tart, bitter flavor from her lips.
She stepped into her husband’s arms and they swayed to the music, doing their best to ignore their welling arousals.
* * *
Jedidiah Wormwood Worth scanned the room, taking a deep breath. He sorted the psychic fragrances of the room like an elderly woman arranging the colorful threads of her embroidery. To one side were the bitter, dark scents of those who were close to the edge, ripe and ready for temptation. On the other side of the spectrum were the sweet, bright tastes of the truly good. The rest played like a symphony over his palate, so full of potential and challenge.
But Jedidiah wasn’t here to work tonight. After all, even angels and demons needed the occasional night off.
He flicked a spot of lint from his impeccable Savile Row suit and removed his fedora, setting it to the side of an unoccupied table. His Burberry trench coat had been safely checked in the coat room. He tapped a manicured nail on the table as the waitress took his order.
There was no doubt that Last Call was the place to be for the paranormal set in London. He admired the toe of his polished wing tip and contemplated the prospects for the night.
“Vampires and werewolves and fairies, oh my.” Without looking, he handed a bill to the waitress and accepted his drink, sipp
ing at the smooth whisky in the glass. Why bother with all those silly mixed concoctions when a man could have the water of life? It was one of the higher accomplishments of humanity.
The waitress hadn’t moved, so he sighed in annoyance.
“Hello, Shelly.”
“Good evening, Jedidiah.” Uninvited, she slid into the chair across from him. In the dim light of the bar, her red hair glowed like fire. Her smile was false and fierce; the tips of her fangs glinted past ruby lips. She was head of security here at Last Call, and more than capable of drop-kicking his sorry ass out the front door.
“I’m here for leisure tonight, so no secret meetings, no contracts in blood.” He sipped the whisky and caught a glimpse of a couple over her shoulder. They were a stunning yin and yang image; the man was dark to her ivory pale coloring. Lovely. He shifted, letting his trousers caress his balls.
Too steeped in innocence, but they were damned alluring.
“Just checking, Councilor. Last time you were here, you left a bit of chaos in your wake.”
“Just enforcing a contract. I have my boss and you have yours. That vampire had passed his expiration date. If I hadn’t gathered him, you’d have had a bloodbath on your hands.”
She smiled sweetly. “We did have a bloodbath on our hands, darling. You tore him to pieces and, in the process, destroyed half the bar.”
He cocked a brow. “But no lives were lost save his, Shelly. He was fleeing his contract, and the breach was tearing his soul from his body. I averted a catastrophe. As per your request, I’ve never returned until now. My exile from Last Call is at an end.”
She sighed in disgust. Under that façade, he scented discomfort and a tinge of fear.
“Don’t worry, my dear; that one made his deal with the devil long before he was turned. You’re simply a vampire.”
“Simply a vampire, eh?”
“You aren’t evil, in spite of your wicked packaging.” He looked at the vampire steadily. “The most evil men and women can wrap their vile intentions in charitable disguise, my dear. Never forget that.”
Her smile was dangerous, but she scooted her chair back and rose. “No trouble tonight, Jedidiah. Do you promise?”
He raised two fingers. “Scout’s honor. I’m simply taking a day off.”
She cast him a final look before leaving. “I know you’re big shit in the underworld, Jed, but here you’re just a demon like all the others. The rules here apply to you.”
He grinned and stretched, seeing a couple demons at the edge of the dance floor; they were eyeing him like he was some sort of celebrity. They’d probably ask for his autograph before the evening was out. It was hard not to preen.
“I promise to be a good little demon, Shelly.”
“And I know you’re twisting your words, Jed. It’s bad enough that you’re a fucking demon, but you’re a lawyer too. Say what I need to hear, Councilor.”
His smile became wicked, and Jed fiddled with the hat on the table. His small, curved horns emerged, and he allowed a bit of red to seep into his eyes.
“Shelly, I promise that I am here for drinks, music and company. I am not here to hunt. I will abide by the rules of Last Call.” He glanced up at her face, seeing a look of disbelief lingering there. “Besides, even I can’t violate the wards that protect your clients.”
“Try telling that to Antonio.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s thinking of that even now. He’ll have plenty of time in Hell to cogitate on his wrongdoings.” Jedidiah glanced back out to the dance floor, watching his little vanilla couple with appreciation. The man was wearing a black silk shirt and dress pants; she was wearing a vintage Laura Ashley frock. The prim and proper style looked good on her.
When the music stopped, they parted quickly, as though they’d burned one another, and returned to their table. Her fair cheeks were flushed, and the man’s groin swelled behind the zipper of his slacks. When she turned her head, a reddish gleam burned in her eyes.
Interesting.
Jedidiah finished his whisky and didn’t even notice that Shelly had left his table.
Chapter Two
Mya sat breathing deeply, gathering her tattered control. The moment her body reacted to his, David could literally see the animal struggling behind her eyes. All her life she’d developed a finely controlled mastery over her birth animal, but this new creature simply wasn’t hers. It was angry and vile. It wanted blood and pain. When David’s hand brushed hers, she jerked away. He swallowed back the hurt and rejection.
“Baby, look at this…” He glanced down at the abandoned specialty menu, frowning at the fine print. “I never noticed this before.”
The section on the menu read Demons and Angels. She read the entry that he’d pointed out.
“Devil’s Advocate. Sex for a service, damnation not included.”
Their gazes met.
“That wasn’t there before. I’d have noticed it.”
The feral gleam was fading from her eyes. That was good, but she needed to be distracted.
“This could be exactly what we need.” She looked hopeful.
David’s heart ached for his wife. Meeting and bonding the way they had was nothing less than a miracle. Their kind was slowly growing extinct. Tiger shifters rarely bonded, and almost never mated. They generally came together, bred and parted. David’s parents had been an exception. When his father had returned to the UK, his mother had followed, unwilling to break up the family.
He’d been through his share of lovers, but when he’d spotted Mya in the dimly lit gallery of the museum, he’d known that she was his mate.
To sweeten the bond, they’d fallen head over heels for each other. They’d married quickly, before realizing that the family curse would kick in the first time they attempted to have sex.
“Are you ready?” He reached into his pocket, fingering the previously unused credit card. This night at Last Call would inevitably cost dearly, but David knew in his heart that it would take much more than a mere witch to unravel this convoluted curse. They needed someone who could cut through the red tape. If it saved their marriage, it would be worth every penny and every percentage point of interest that accrued.
She drew a deep breath and looked directly at him. Until this moment, David hadn’t considered how it would feel, watching his wife with another man. They hadn’t deluded themselves; the service they were offering was sex. The service they required was negotiation. They needed someone to speak on their behalf on the other side of the veil. As far as they knew, Mya’s beast reacted only to David.
Even as possessive jealousy coursed through his system, his cock grew hard again. He was used to it by now. Even masturbation brought her beast to the fore, so David had learned to wrestle down his sexuality. For Mya, he’d do it forever, but at some point his beast would demand her submission. That would lead to disaster.
“What if…” She swallowed. He fixated on the slender column of her throat. The pulse beat there like a butterfly trapped under her translucent skin. “What if the demon wants you?”
He’d already considered that. Prior to meeting Mya, David had taken lovers of both sexes. “We are offering the service, Mya. You know my past. I’m willing to offer my body, if that’s what it takes.” Looking at her, he doubted that would be necessary. A demon would be delighted with Mya. Her fair appearance spoke of innocence and purity. Thankfully, David knew she had backbone, as well as a healthy sexual appetite. That was an integral part of their nature.
Still, you never knew what a demon might want.
Forcing a smile, David rose and took her slender hand in his, admiring her grace. Her blonde hair waved gently to her shoulders like a shimmering length of silk. The color was the palest gold that hair could be without becoming silver. Woven through the light blonde were streaks of soft copper. The effect was stunning.
Her feline eyes were light blue, edged by darker blue at the outside of the iris. With her long, elegant limbs and willowy body, she sometimes seem
ed more fae than the real thing. She squeezed his hand in hers, and this time David was the one to take a deep, calming breath.
They skirted the edge of the dance floor, finally reaching the specialty bar. The blonde cat shifter smiled, her eyes flicking from one to the other, lingering on David. He sensed, rather than heard, Mya’s soft growl of jealousy.
“What can I get for you tonight?”
David set the menu on the bar and pointed to the title of the drink.
“A Devil’s Advocate?” She looked them over but held the comment that he could see lingering on her tongue. “Two?”
“Yes. Please.” Mya’s voice was unsteady, but brooked no argument. The bartender shrugged her shoulders and turned away, assembling the drinks. When she set the glasses in front of them, David slid the credit card in her direction. She waited a moment, giving him time to change his mind.
He didn’t.
Palming the card, she spoke into the headset she wore. “Last Call for the couple at the bar. They’ve ordered Devil’s Advocates tonight.”
The announcement came over the sound system, and for a second, the entire bar went still. His cheeks went warm with the knowledge that all eyes were on them.
“That’s a pretty tall order. A Devil’s Advocate isn’t just for fun and games.” The red-haired head of security slid onto a stool next to his. She glanced from David to Mya. His hackles rose slightly; he caught a slight damp earth scent on the woman.
“We aren’t here for fun.” He picked up the glass, which was almost painfully cold. Turning away from the vampire, he gave a slight smile to Mya.
“Cheers.” She tipped her glass against his, and they drank.
He didn’t need his enhanced senses to tell him that people were assembling at his back. Not people… demons. The press of heated power was unmistakable. Mya met his gaze and sipped her drink, licking away the sweet-tart beads from her upper lip. His arousal spiked and her eyes gleamed red in response. He’d seen perhaps ten, maybe a dozen, demons wandering the bar, and now he had the attention of every single one of them in the room. He quickly downed a large swallow, oblivious to the kick of the alcohol.
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