My Soul to Play (Games People Play Book 2)

by Robin Roseau

  I didn't learn a thing.

  But each night, I parked across the street and kitty corner from The Vixen Club, camera in hand. I took a lot of photos, setting my home computer to identifying patterns. I discovered a few repeat patrons of the club, but that didn't really tell me very much.

  I wasn't accustomed to doing things this way. I always had access to department resources. I could also hide behind a badge.

  I wasn't getting anywhere.

  Repeat

  The sharp rap against my window startled me half out of my skin. It was only luck my coffee mug was nearly empty, the thermos having run dry an hour previously. Still, I pressed my hand to my chest in a futile attempt to still a rapidly beating heart.

  Outside the car, Evaline Marsh, dangerously seductive demon, was grinning at me. In her hands was a pair of steaming mugs. I rolled down my window.

  "Good evening, Detective St. Claire," she said, holding out one of the mugs. I automatically accepted it from her then offered it an askance look.

  "It's just coffee," she said. "Care for company?"

  "Seriously?" I asked her.

  She grinned again before walking around to the other side of the car. She tried the handle to find it was locked. One shapely hand moved to a shapely hip as she looked through the windows at me. I paused just to remind her she didn't have all the power before hitting the unlock. A moment later she slipped into the passenger seat of my car.

  She looked around, clearly unimpressed. "Is this your private vehicle, Detective, or government issue?"

  "Are you going to make a disparaging remark about the salaries of public employees?"

  "That would be tasteless, Detective," she replied easily. "But I might have expressed curiosity why you would choose this career when you could easily have pursued a wide variety of more lucrative careers."

  "I wanted to help people."

  "Oh, Detective," she replied, sounding sad. "Surely we're not going to lie to each other. Nurses help people."

  "My job is important."

  She hesitated two heartbeats before replying. "I suppose it is, although I might suggest that most jobs are important or no one would pay to have them performed."

  I dubiously looked into the coffee mug again. It smelled good, but who knows what she could have put in it.

  "It's coffee, Detective," she said. "Nothing else." She sipped from her own steaming mug then smiled.

  She had a devastating smile.

  "Don't do that."

  "Drink my coffee?"

  "Look at me like that."

  "How am I looking at you, Detective?"

  I turned away, not responding. I still didn't trust the coffee. We sat quietly for a half-minute before she said, "Detective, I never lie."

  I looked over at her again. "Isn't that what all demons say?"

  "They do, actually," she said. "Oh, we're quite adept at the art of misdirection. But we never lie. It's against the rules." She gestured with her nose to the mug in my hand. "I can't say the coffee is harmless. But it's only coffee, and I dare say, it's less harmful than whatever you picked up at the police station." She gestured to my thermos.

  "I made that at home," I said.

  "Well," she said. "Then I shouldn't attempt to compare the two. It's only coffee, Detective. I'm not here to drug you. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm not even here to convince you to leave my businesses alone."

  "Then why are you here?"

  "To bring you a cup of coffee and to see if you've considered my offer."

  "I haven't."

  She grinned again. "Yes you have." She sipped from her coffee. "Tell me: have you had dreams about me?"

  I looked away, not answering. She set her mug down and clapped her hands. "Oh, I do like when an intriguing woman dreams about me."

  "I'm nothing special."

  "We both know that's not remotely true."

  "What do you want, Ms. Marsh?"

  "Have you learned anything particularly juicy about me, Detective?" I stared at her, not answering. "We both know you haven't. I told you: I am meticulous in my businesses. I follow the rules, Detective. All the rules."

  "What is that supposed to mean?"

  She looked up. "There are rules. Surely you must realize that."

  "This is a little new to me."

  She lowered her gaze back towards me. "I am a free agent. I am not beholden to anyone. And I like it that way. If I want to maintain my freedom, I follow the rules. Do you see?"

  "Such as?"

  She smiled. "Play my game and I'll answer your questions, although I am afraid I must change the rules."

  "Oh?"

  "You rejected my first offer, and so my second will not be quite as generous. And so I will add one little caveat. You may not divulge in any way to anyone else without my express permission anything I tell you."

  "So you intend to confess to murder or other heinous crimes, and I am unable to arrest you afterwards?"

  "Not hardly," she replied. "But that's the latest offer. The next will be even less generous. Detective, do you believe you will find Ms. Spencer?"

  "I'll find her."

  "I do not believe you will." She popped the door open and slid from the car, walking around to my side. She leaned in the window. I got a real good look, and I couldn't help but stare. She waited until I was able to peel my eyes from the show and look back up into her own eyes. "I never lie," she repeated. "It's against the rules. If you win our game, you get your questions answered with no strings attached."

  "Except my silence."

  "Even if you lose, I'll answer your questions. And I am fairly certain you'll enjoy yourself a great deal."

  She let me think about it. I decided to be honest. "That's what I'm afraid of."

  She laughed then reached in and patted my cheek. It should have been condescending, but somehow it wasn't.

  "The coffee is as harmless as any other cup you drink and better quality than most. It's safe to drink it, Detective."

  After that I watched her sashay away from my car. She was most of the way back to her club before I remembered I had a camera. I caught a few photos just as she disappeared through the front door.

  "Well, hell," I said.

  I drank the coffee. It was excellent.

  More Dreams

  I knew I was dreaming. The demon was in her true form, or what I assumed was her true form. She wore horns, scales, and the tail.

  The very alluring tail.

  Her horns weren't those cute little things you see in Halloween costumes. Instead, they were a good foot long and curled like an antelope's. The horns were dark red. The tips gleamed and were as sharp as an arrow.

  In the dream, her eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't move. I tried to whimper, but no sounds came out.

  I was naked. I knew that. I hate dreams where I'm naked.

  "You have a lovely body, Detective," the demon said. "I am so going to enjoy you."

  I tried to protest, but no words came forth. She reached for me, and I could see her hands had the same sort of scales she had elsewhere. She caressed me, and it felt good, like silk.

  "Don't do this," I thought. "Please don't do this."

  The demon inhaled deeply. "You are going to taste divine, Detective," she said.

  "No," I managed to whimper. And with that sound, the floodgates opened, and I sat straight up, barely holding in the scream, the dream broken.

  * * * *

  I don't know why I even bothered trying to go back to sleep, but I was exhausted, and sleep came easily. It didn't last.

  I found myself stepping into Club Vixen. The club was full, the patrons engaged in a variety of unspeakable acts, some of them with each other, some with a variety of underworld creatures straight from the worst of Hollywood movies. No one paid an ounce of attention to me.

  I slipped past the bar and through the door labeled "employees only". I found myself traveling down a long hallway that never seemed to end. The doors were locked, but I heard
animalistic sounds coming from behind many of them.

  Then from ahead, I heard a scream. I began trying to hurry, but in my dreams, I'm never able to run.

  I reached the end of the corridor and flung the door open. There was a set of stairs, and I began heading down. It was dark, but there was an eerie red glow.

  The stairs had started as a normal set of stairs you might find in any modern building, but by the time I was halfway down, the walls became rough, dank stone, a dark cave into the depths.

  I knew I was descending into hell.

  From ahead, a voice, filled with desperation, called my name, and I knew it was Rachel. I tried to hurry.

  The stairs never seemed to end. But then suddenly I was in a series of dark caves. I could barely see. I called for Rachel. From ahead I heard her voice. But then it seemed to be behind me, then to my left.

  I woke, sweating. I lay in bed, shaking for a while. Finally I got up. I headed to the kitchen and collected a glass of water, carrying it to the dark living room. I turned on the television.

  Eventually I slept.

  * * * *

  I opened my eyes with a start. The demon was before me, crouching down so our eyes were on the same level.

  "How did you get in here?" I demanded.

  "You invited me," she replied. "Have you found Ms. Spencer?"

  "What have you done with her?"

  "Play my game, and if I had anything to do with her disappearance, you'll see."

  "Never!"

  "You will play," she said. She smiled and caressed my cheek. "You can't resist me."

  "I can," I said vehemently. "I can," I screamed.

  I woke.

  "Damn it!"

  * * * *

  Eventually I gave up. I spent the day doing mundane things -- my laundry, paying bills, cleaning the house. I took a few naps, blessedly dream-free. But by nine, I was a wreck.

  I got two good hours of sleep before the dreams started, and if the last night was bad, this night was even worse.

  "You won't find me," Rachel said. "Please find me, Teigan. Beth will forgive you if you find me."

  I woke realizing something simple: that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it?

  I dreamed, and I woke, and I tried to stay awake, but I slept again, and I dreamed.

  And then I was back in the demon's office.

  "What did you do to me?"

  "Not a thing, Detective. Having trouble sleeping?"

  "Please just leave me alone."

  "I haven't done a thing, Detective. Not a thing. But you need to sleep. I can help you sleep?"

  "How?"

  "Agree to play my game, and you'll sleep the rest of the night."

  "No."

  "You won't find her, Detective. You'll never find her without my help. But my help has a price."

  "You do know where she is!"

  She smiled. "This is only a dream, Detective. You know that. Agree to play, and you'll sleep like a baby."

  "No."

  "Do you wonder if she's alive? Maybe I killed her? Maybe if you reject my offer again, I'll grow nervous. Maybe she's fine tonight, but if I worry you'll do something rash, maybe I'll do away with the evidence. Aren't you worried about that?"

  "Don't do this."

  She morphed, and she was the demon again. She leaned forward, and I found myself staring into her eyes. "Play the game, Detective."

  "No."

  "Do you think you can sleep before you find her? I'm not doing this to you, Detective. You're doing it to yourself. Play the game."

  "No!" I screamed, waking myself.

  * * * *

  I was with her. "No," I said, as soon as I saw who it was.

  She smiled. I hadn't seen her smile in three years. But then the smile faded. "I can't help you this time, Teigan. Good luck."

  I fell to my knees in front of her, a gesture of supplication, but she walked away.

  * * * *

  The demon sat on the sofa in her office, Rachel kneeling at her feet, naked except for a slave collar around her neck, the demon casually holding one end of the connected leash.

  "I'll play," I said quietly.

  She smiled. "Sleep."

  And I did.

  A Game

  I stepped into Club Vixen, removed my sunglasses, and waited for my eyes to adjust. I tucked the glasses into a pocket and looked around. Like my previous visit, there were only a few groups seated here and there, some at the bar, some at tables. A few turned to look at me, but I had my badge ready, and I flashed it. Every pair of eyes turned away.

  The bartender watched me approach. It was the same one as last week.

  "Water or a coke?"

  "Is Ms. Marsh available? I'd like to see her."

  He stared at me for several seconds then turned away without an answer. But he headed to the phone. A moment later, after hanging up, he moved back in front of me. I watched him pour a coke. He set it in front of me. "On the house." He walked away without another word and appeared to ignore me after that.

  I nursed the coke. By the time I was finishing the dregs, the demon still hadn't appeared. It took an effort, but I managed to catch the bartender's attention.

  "Is she even coming?"

  He didn't answer, but he leaned over the bar and filled the coke as it sat in front of me. He returned the dispenser nozzle to its home behind the bar and said simply, "It is said patience is a virtue."

  If so, I could be a very virtuous person.

  She left me waiting for an hour and twenty minutes. I'd already consumed two pots of coffee and now several glasses of coke. This investigation was going to be hell on me.

  I couldn't tell you what it was about her. For the third time she managed to appear beside me without me detecting her approach. I wasn't typically that oblivious.

  "Good afternoon, Detective."

  I turned to her. "I'll play."

  She smiled broadly. "Come."

  As I had before, I followed her through the bar, through the private door, and into her office. She gestured to a seat -- this time at one end of the sofa. I eyed it warily, but when she took the other end of the sofa, I sank down into place.

  "Is she here?"

  The demon looked at me sadly and made a "tsk-tsk" noise, waving her finger back and forth. "We haven't played our game."

  "How do I know you're not leading me on?"

  "You don't," she replied. "But this time, you have come to me. Why is that?"

  "As if you don't know," I said, putting as much accusation into my tone as I could.

  She leaned back and studied me. "Such hostility," she said finally. "What have I done to deserve this tone?"

  "What was in the coffee?"

  "Just coffee, Detective. It was only coffee." She smiled. "I wasn't sure you'd drink it."

  "I could have had it tested."

  "Of course you could have. Do you really think I would attempt to drug a police officer?"

  "I don't know what you're capable of, Ms. Marsh," I replied. "What have you been doing to me?"

  "Not a thing, Detective. Why do you ask?"

  "You've been forcing me to have those dreams."

  She waved her finger and tsked at me again. "You shouldn't make such accusations without any evidence. I haven't forced you to do a single thing. I certainly haven't invaded your dreams. If you have had dreams, they are of your own making."

  I looked away, my eyes roaming her office. Finally I asked, my voice small, "What game are we playing? Am I even going to have a chance of winning?"

  "It wouldn't be a good game if we didn't both have a chance, Detective. What game would you like to play?"

  I snapped my eyes back to her. "I thought you had one in mind?"

  "Oh, I have dozens in mind." She smiled and looked me up and down. "If you lose this game, we'll be playing some of them. You'll like them. But I do not want you to wonder if I have cheated you. Perhaps you would like to play a game of cards. I have a fresh deck, but if you do not trust
mine, perhaps you brought your own."

  "I'm not much of a card player," I admitted.

  "Well," she replied. "Perhaps we should discuss the terms of our wager. If a game has not occurred to you by the end, then we will play a game of my choosing. We are not playing for your questions. You will be free to ask your questions at the conclusion of our game. Because you have twice rejected my previous offers, I reserve the right to decline answering."

  "That's not our agreement."

  "I will answer any about the girl, but if the topic strays from the girl, I may answer. I may not."

  At that stipulation, I nodded.

  "And you get an hour. No more."

  "You'll answer concisely."

  "If that is your desire," she said. "Detective, I have no intention of cheating you. Now, if you win, I will answer your questions, and then that is it. If I win, however, you belong to me to use as I will for the next 48 hours."

  "It was supposed to be 24."

  "That was a week ago," she said. "Take it or leave it."

  I sighed. "Whether I win your game or not, you will stop interfering with my sleep."

  "I've already told you I had nothing to do with that, Detective. While you are mine, I will do what I wish to you. Afterwards, if you wish nothing further to do with me, I shall make no effort to bother you in any way."

  I wasn't sure I believed her. I wasn't sure about any of this. "Fine," I said eventually. I tried to think of a game, but I couldn't think of a thing I thought I could win.

  The demon smiled. "Are we playing my game then, Detective?"

  I sighed. "Yes."

  "Excellent." Her smile broadened. "Of course, we must be formal about this." She rose from the sofa, held a finger up, then moved to her desk. She sat down and turned to the computer. I watched her, my stomach in knots, while she worked the computer for a few minutes.

  "What are you doing?" I asked finally.

  "Drafting our agreement," she said, not turning towards me.

  "Will I be signing in blood?"