He wore a gray, pinstriped suit with gray-and-white spectator dress shoes. A crisp white linen handkerchief was folded smartly in his breast pocket. He was very debonair. Tally expected to see a walking stick or something similar. She supposed these days they were called “pimp canes.” This guy was vintage gangster and made of smokin’ hot. In fact, he was so hot, his eyes were on fire. They blazed with the fury of Hell.
“If you’d let me know, I could have picked up a pint for you on my way over.” The handsome creature nodded to her bag of ice cream.
“Well, I didn’t know to expect you.” Because she had no idea who he was. Tally wished fervently for her magick. She didn’t know if she should run away screaming, or maybe pounce on him and ride him like a pony. He obviously wasn’t a warlock and he was damned sexy. Merlin, why was she always thinking with her witchy bits? She was as bad as any warlock.
“Of course, you didn’t, silly witch. You didn’t read your magick mail this morning.”
“I’ve been a little too busy with life to worry about my m-mail.”
“Mmm, don’t I just know it? You’re such a wicked little libertine,” he said, his mouth curling into a smile she was sure had spawned the Inquisition.
“It seems you know all about me, so just who the hell are you?” Tally asked, more boldly than she felt.
He leered at her, hellfire eyes blazing. “Hell is exactly who I am. A Crown Prince of Hell to be precise.” He took another sip of tea. “But you may call me Ethelred.”
“Well, Ethelred, not that it hasn’t been fun, but I’m sure you have other things to do besides hang out on my front porch.” Part of her wanted to assume he was crazy, but those hellfire eyes didn’t lie.
“I’m rather pleased you didn’t go for the hysterical screaming as those with the ovaries tend to do. That’s why they call it hysteria, don’t you know. Hystero means uterus.” He nodded and took a sip of tea. “I was actually rather busy drafting a contract with a gypsy prince when the Powers That Be ‘called’ to put me on your case. Now that the prince has time to think it over, he might change his mind and I might miss my quota for Infernal contracts as a result. I think you owe me something for my time, don’t you?”
“Me owe you? For what? I’m not responsible for your quota or for you being here.”
He chuckled. “Oh, you’re going to like it in Hell, dollface. We might even be able to find you a job. No one is responsible for anything down there, either. The Big Boss ‘made everyone do it.’ ” Ethelred held out a second teacup to her. “Why don’t you sit down and we’ll have a chat about why exactly we’ll be spending time together, hmm? Since you couldn’t be bothered to read your m-mail that came from Merlin himself.”
Tally sank into the chair, unsure if any of this was actually happening to her. He placed a chocolate banana scone on a table that manifested in front of her, a dollop of cream on top, and smiled. Tally was taking high tea with a demon. She didn’t know how she felt about it, but staying calm seemed to be the best bet. He obviously hated screamers and it was clear it would get her nowhere in any event. And he had scones and he smelled good. This might be the closest she’d ever get to anything male again, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hear what he had to say. At least, he was honest about the fact he was evil. Martin, the evil warlock who’d sicced the lamia on her, had pretended to love her, and had pretended to be a good person. Tally preferred honest, even if it was ugly.
Ethelred took another bite of the biscuit he’d chosen, rather than a scone. He chewed carefully, precisely, silently. But Tally could tell he had something else to say. Her own food hit her stomach like an anvil. “So, little witch. You are on parole,” he said finally.
“Parole?” she squeaked.
“Yes, doll. Parole. The Powers That Be decided that being possessed by the lamia was prison enough. But still, you did commit a crime. You tore open a hole in this dimension, allowed evil to pass through, hurt people—and you know the Powers frown on all of that.” Ethelred nodded as if he’d just shared a great secret with her.
“What—” she began.
“Hush. Questions will be answered after the lecture. You will have two parole officers—one Infernal, that’s me, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, and one Heavenly, and that’s Cupid. Only the Powers know why, of course. With your weights and balances, I don’t think Merlin himself could change the chains on your soul. Things aren’t looking good for you. If you were hit with a runaway broom right now, you’d sink instead of swim.” He nodded, almost apologetically.
The demon on her porch had just told her she was going to Hell.
Tally didn’t see how it was possible to remain in the non-hysterical category.
“I can sense your internal temperature creeping up toward Bitch Kitty.”
“I don’t want to go to Hell. I don’t want to sink!”
“While that is completely up to you, it’s really not all that bad. I’m surprised Midnight was able to keep her mouth closed.”
“What does Middy have to do with it?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say.” He didn’t sound at all disappointed.
“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up.” Tally huffed.
“Touché, my dear. Touché.” He grinned and that pissed her off even more.
“Further, I don’t know you. I was already led astray by a man once. Why should I believe I’m on parole? That smells a lot like dragonshit to me.”
He laughed. “I’m not a man. I’m a demon, but I do like you. You’re going to be fun.”
“You think so? Let me ask you this then. Would a demon be afraid of the great and terrible evil from the Abyss?” She eyed him critically.
Tally was officially desperate. She knew at the core of her being he was a demon and someone she should steer clear of. She consoled herself with the fact she hadn’t signed anything; she could start to worry when she asked for a contract to get a piece of fine, demonic ass. But she sensed she might not be too far away from that slippery slope. It wasn’t the needs of her body that drove her, but the needs of self. It occurred to her that as much as she’d fought it, and as much as she wanted it to be different, Tally’s self-worth had always been tied to sex and now no one wanted her. She didn’t know how to process who she was within those parameters. Yes, she was officially desperate.
Ethelred appraised her, his hellfire eyes like sparklers on the Fourth of July. “No, and no angel worth his salt will be, either.”
Tally felt her mouth opening just as the thought formed like a newly hatched maggot in her fevered brain. “What about you? Put your money where your mouth is, Ethelred?”
The demon looked amused and she blushed hotly. Tally couldn’t believe what she’d just done. She felt like an utter twat. “Never mind that. It just slipped out. I’m bored, you’re cute . . . Just never mind. Really.”
“You’ve done wonders for my ego, you adorable witch.” Ethelred stood, and his presence sucked the air out of the space.
Why were all immortal men so freaking huge? She was sure she had a Fey in the woodpile, so to speak, something that had contributed to her short stature.
“Too bad I’m not into women just now. That would probably earn me admin points for shagging my charge on the next promotion board. You’re delightful.”
“You’re gay?” she squeaked. Tally should have known. She reiterated to herself that anything male was the last thing she needed. Sex should have been the least of her worries, but instead, it was like a big, throbbing pimple in the middle of her forehead. No, more like shingles. It burned and itched just like that.
“I wouldn’t say gay. I don’t mind the term, but it’s not totally accurate. I prefer ‘omnisexual.’ ”
A lightning bolt ripped through the roof and burst into flames around Ethelred’s feet and Tally was sure she could hear a trumpet. Or maybe it was the horn from a semi?
“Devildamn, Uriel. Get a grip on yourself,” Ethelred growled at the sky and then looked back down to the plac
e where a smoking pile of rubble had replaced Tally’s wicker end table.
“Let me guess, he’s your boyfriend? What an asshole,” Tally snapped. “Look at my table. Just because I can do magick doesn’t mean I can fix this for free.”
“He’s a little possessive.” Ethelred held his first finger and thumb about an inch apart to demonstrate. “He said he didn’t want a relationship and then I propose one tiny deal with one insignificant gypsy prince and he loses his mind. Men are all the same, doll. Crown Prince of Heaven or Hell, warlock or mortal.”
Tally realized they were bonding over men. Was the demon her new gay best friend? Were they going to go shoe shopping next and eat Godivas and lament the size of their asses in the latest skinny jeans?
He flashed a wicked smile, as if he knew the vein of her thoughts. But that smile, it was all about the predator. It told her not to let her guard down for one minute because he’d devour her whole.
Any logical thought was quickly snuffed to a cold fear that gnawed all the way to the marrow of her bones; it was as if she could already feel his teeth tearing at her insides. It spoke to the darkness that was still inside her and reached out to coil around her spine. It was an intrinsic terror of the unknown Abyss, but it was painted with the red dye of desire.
These Crown Princes were really all about the mind fuck. Tally knew she’d have to remember that. He eyed her as he would a candy he wasn’t sure if he’d get spanked for stealing. Or better yet, if it could be proven he’d stolen it.
“Perhaps another time? I think we’re going to get you, one way or another, Drusilla Tallow.”
We’re? As in we? Tally was assaulted with visions of being had by the demon’s “we” and it made her tingle a bit. All of those hot creatures paying attention to her? Talk about a head trip. It made her feel a bit slutty, too, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. After all, what she did in her own brain was private.
Unless Ethelred’s continued smirk was any indication.
She chose to ignore the fact that when he said “we” he meant Hell.
“Hark, is that the flutter of glittery wings I hear?” Ethelred’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “If you don’t believe me, I’m sure you’ll believe your snoring savior. Do let the Diapered Wonder know I was here, would you?”
“My snoring savior?” So she had heard that correctly. Tally wasn’t ready to look at Falcon, let alone speak to him, and that was miles from trusting him with her immortal soul.
“You did catch the part where I said you had a Heavenly parole officer, too, didn’t you? Cupid? The Diapered Wonder? The Drunken Archer? If it’s any consolation, I think it was a dick move on the Powers’ part to not only saddle you with the new guy, but one who doesn’t even believe in his office. You should petition Merlin to have him replaced.”
“I thought you wanted me to fail?”
“Playing devil’s advocate is applicable to all scenarios, doll. Not just the ones that are in my best interest. But I’m going to run along now. The gypsy prince requires my attention and the snoring savior requires yours. I’ll see you soon.” He winked and disappeared with the smell of sulfur hanging heavily in the air.
See her soon? She didn’t want to be seen soon. Or at all. She didn’t want to be on parole, she didn’t want to go to Hell, she didn’t—Well, she could just toss all that shit on the pile with the rest of it. There were plenty of things she’d never signed up for and the only thing she could do was pull out her big witch wand and deal with it.
The sulfur smell dissipated and was slowly replaced by the scent of cotton candy. The air in front of her on the steps began to shimmer pink like the first streaks of dawn and Falcon Cherrywood stood on the step in full Cupid regalia.
He was gorgeous, like a bronzed version of some Greek statue. In fact, he looked very Greek in his short toga, the filmy material brushing the tops of his muscular thighs. It didn’t look like a diaper at all. Of course, she hadn’t seen what he had on under there. Not that she would ask after what had happened last time. Her eyes were drawn from his physique to his wings. She’d never seen him like this before—never seen the wings. They entranced her—simply beautiful, like glittery cotton candy. So downy and soft, she wondered what it would be like to touch them.
“It smells like burned eggs and a baby shit muddin’ rally. What have you been doing?” Falcon Cherrywood demanded as he tripped when he tried to step up onto the porch. He’d clearly forgotten his wings were attached as they caught on both sides of the door and sent him sprawling in the yard.
“I don’t know, Cupid. You’re the one wearing a diaper,” she called out.
Falcon dragged himself to his feet, his hair mussed with bits of grass sticking out here and there. “Poke fun at the diaper once more, wench, and I’ll zap you in love with a closet gnome.”
“That’s not a very angelic attitude.” Tally snorted.
“Yeah, well, I’m hoping to be reassigned to a different case.”
“You?” Tally snorted again and feared she was turning into something porcine with all the snorting. “I’d say I got the shortest end of that wand, wouldn’t you?”
He had the grace to look contrite as he tucked his wings and finally made it up onto the porch. “Tally, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about what happened.”
“Because you passed out in my witchy bits or because your brother proclaimed to the whole of warlockian society that he thought they were trying to eat you?”
“Tristan told me what happened and—”
“He knows?” Tristan was her ex-boyfriend and he’d hurt her very badly. Probably not as badly as she’d hurt him when she killed him, but he’d taken the job as Death afterward, so it had all worked out. But Tally didn’t want him to know anything about her humiliation, especially where Falcon was concerned. She sighed heavily.
“All I can say is I’m sorry. I can’t undo it. I know that’s not good enough, which is why I think it’s best if I ask to be reassigned.”
“Ethelred thought so, too.” She inhaled deeply, trying to relax and that cotton candy scent filled her awareness.
“The demon was already here?” Falcon narrowed his eyes.
Tally didn’t answer him; all she could think about was that delicious smell. “That smells so good. Is that you?”
“Is what me?”
“You smell like cotton candy.” Tally was entranced. Those pink wings were calling to her. She had to touch them. Tally reached out unsure fingers and skimmed down the arch of his wing. “Does that come with Cupidity?”
They even felt like cotton candy, so soft and fey. She looked to see if her fingers were covered in glitter, but they weren’t. Perhaps it was more like diamond dust, a pretty armor.. . . Tally touched again and Falcon grabbed her wrist.
“That’s not a good idea,” Falcon said through clenched teeth.
“Why not? They’re so pretty.” She was vaguely aware she sounded like a love-struck groupie.
If she’d been in her right mind, she’d have checked her backside for an errant lust arrow, especially after the way he’d left her at the wedding reception, but she couldn’t help herself. She smoothed her cheek over the downy wing. Suddenly, her face was wrenched away by a fist tangled in her mass of blond curls and Falcon’s mouth was hot and demanding on hers.
She wondered if he knew he tasted like cotton candy, too. Her fingers stroked his wings and gloried in their softness.
Touching him and being touched by him felt so good.
But it was wrong.
He was her parole officer now, and frankly, she deserved better. After the humiliation she’d endured, he thought he could just grab her and kiss her because she’d touched his wings? He’d said he was sorry, but if he was really sorry, he’d have actions to back him up. Or he would have at least apologized first thing rather than talking about how her porch smelled like shit and he wanted to be reassigned.
Yes, she was desperate, and yes, Falcon was her most secret desire, but she des
erved better than this. Not because he didn’t want a relationship, but because he obviously didn’t respect her.
That idea was an epiphany. The truth of it was cymbals smacking together with her head in between them.
Tally decided that Falcon deserved the same understanding, the same awareness. Her two open palms were nothing like cymbals, but they’d have to do.
CHAPTER FOUR
Enter the Fist
Drusilla Tallow was a small witch, with even smaller hands.
And yet, when they connected simultaneously with the sides of his head, they rattled the feeling out of his face.
“What was that for?” he demanded.
She stood there, her little fists clenched at her sides, her luscious mouth set in a hard line, and a flush creeping up the slender column of her throat. Her chest heaved with her emotion, causing her cleavage to jiggle in the most attractive way. He considered kissing her again. It would be completely worth another slap. Especially if he could get her to touch his wings again.
What was wrong with him?
Besides being a bastard? he answered himself.
He’d already hurt her and all he could do was think about was his dick. And his wings. But he’d never felt anything like that: The pleasure had been a vibration that echoed through his whole body, not just his cock.
Then he decided that maybe his wings weren’t pink, they were flesh-colored.
Like his cock.
He would have laughed, if not for the missile of her hand flying through the air at his face yet again. Falcon grabbed her wrist before she could connect with his cheek. “If you strike me again, I’m going to take you over my knee like a little witchling.”
Falcon knew it was a lie as soon as the words were out of his mouth. If he ever had his hands on her ass, it wouldn’t be for any sort of correction.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” Tally asked.
She’d been talking? “Of course, I did.”
How to Seduce an Angel in 10 Days Page 3