"A week's holiday is more than two days, Neman,” Mark answered on the second ring.
"Sorry, Mark—something has come up which warrants the cancellation of vacation time. I need you to head back to the Zigg and send out a code red to the rest of the agency. Warn all of our contacts about heightened demon activities. Oh, and prepare for extra company, so stock up on food. Make sure there are plenty of strawberries, vanilla ice cream and some kind of chocolate, the good kind.” The line went silent for a moment.
"Chocolate? You bringing a kid back to the Zigg?” Mark's tone held a touch of suspicion.
Neman didn't answer the question. “Watch your back, Mark—there's more than a few creatures out to nail my ass to the wall and they won't let a few mortals get in the way of their target."
"Sure thing, boss. If it's that bad then watch your own back, okay?"
Neman didn't say any more, he just snapped his phone shut. He had two more places to visit before he could return to Vanessa. Leaving her alone for this long, protected only by mortals, made him edgy. The intensity of his desire for her continued to amaze him. The effects of the anointing should have been fading by now, so why did he still want her? It was more than just a want—it was a need deep within him. For a very long time, he denied himself carnal pleasures for the thrill of the hunt, taking pleasure in the kill. Vanessa was very different from his first wife, Ningal. Vanessa was strong-willed and light-hearted. Vengeance seemed less important now; all he wanted was Vanessa. Her pale blue eyes, heart-warming smile, even her little ramblings touched a place within he'd never thought could be touched again. He let his lust turn into a dark rage upon thinking of those who wanted to kill her and his child. No, not this time—he would protect her, no matter what the cost. It was time to go kick down a few doors and beat the shit out of a few demons. When Neman wanted answers, he got them.
Nessa had to hand it to the woman—she knew how to shop. Fabulously dressed in the most expensive maternity clothes Nessa had ever seen, she wore a pale blue, ruffle wrap dress, complete with a new bra giving her a plunging neckline, which made more than a few male heads turn to gaze at her best assets—her generous breasts. But Nessa never glanced back. When you have the best, why look at scraps? She smiled in amusement. The shop assistants were falling over themselves to help her spend Neman's money. Nessa figured he owed her after getting her knocked up and destroying all her earthly possessions. The limo was loaded up with everything Nessa could ever need, and she was now feeling a little tired, yet satisfied with the result of their shopping trip and also finding a friend in Ana. She sat with Ana, alfresco in a crowded cafe, watching the crowds shuffle past. She sipped her decaf mocha latte, feeling like a movie star after being pampered at a salon, even without an appointment. Ana showed the color of her money and they ushered her right in.
"Enjoying yourself?” Ana smiled.
"Maybe a little too much,” Nessa said with a touch of guilt. “We've just spent more money than I make in six months."
Ana laughed. “Trust me, you will not bankrupt Mr. Neman anytime soon. Money matters little to him—he takes care of his own. I know he will be pleased you are happy."
"I think he's out of the doghouse,” Nessa said with a wicked little grin. “This sure makes up for what happened yesterday. It was one hell of a night."
Ana moved in closer and asked in a hushed voice, “Were you attacked by demons?"
Well apparently Ana did know Neman was a demon hunter.
"Um, yes, you could say that. I had my apartment blown to kingdom come. Neman got me out by the skin of my teeth,” and only a bed sheet. But Ana didn't need to know every detail. Nessa took a second helping of strawberry tart, nibbling on the sweet treat.
"Don't worry, now, Mr. Neman will take care of it. He will take care of you,” Ana assured her.
Nessa couldn't help but laugh at the seriousness of Ana's tone and expression. “So Neman knocked me up, my apartment was blown to smithereens, and, by now, I've probably lost my job. The life I used to know has been hung upside-down and all the change shaken from its pockets. If I wallowed in self-pity over every little thing that happened, I'd go stark, raving mad. My dad taught me to have a good laugh, appreciate what you've got, and move on."
"You have a wise father. I can see why Mr. Neman is very fond of you.” The smile on Ana's face returned.
Nessa laughed. “Well, I'm not sure about the fond part—he said I was more difficult to deal with than a demon. So how long have you been working for Neman then?"
"Many, many years now. When my brother Carlo and I were children, Mr. Neman saved our lives after our parents were savagely murdered by horrible demon creatures. He killed the demons and brought us here to California, where we were cared for and educated. He gave us more than we could ever repay. A man as driven as Neman has known great loss and sorrow. It is why he hunts evil as he does."
Ana put a whole new perspective on Neman that Nessa hadn't thought about. A rogue demon hunter suddenly held more meaning. He'd been doing it for thousands of years, saving people's lives. He was an unassuming hero. Her heart melted a little further toward the big guy.
"Speaking of lives turned upside-down, I need to get to a phone. I'm really worried about my best friend.” Nessa turned, scanning the street. “There's a payphone over there,” she said, pointing to one a few feet away from the cafe. “Mind if I borrow some change?"
"Be my guest.” Ana dug into her purse and handed her a handful of quarters. “Want me to come?"
"Thanks, the phone is right there. I'll be back in the ‘shake of a leg,’ as we say in Australia.” She smiled, heading out of the cafe, waiting while a chubby man in a loud Hawaiian shirt finished his conversation. Someone tapped her on the shoulder.
A tall, well-built, uniformed policeman stood there and said in a deep voice, his expression serious, “Ma'am, are you Vanessa Myles?"
Panic seared through her. She was in a foreign country with no passport or visa—she could get arrested for that. How would she explain she was magically transported from Australia to the U.S.? “I, uh, may be,” she said, hesitating to answer. “Can I get back to you on that?"
He took a firm hold of her arm and began to pull her along after him. “I need you to come with me, ma'am."
Her eyes flew to Ana, who rose from her seat—the man pulled her along. If she resisted, the situation could get worse—she'd watched those “cop” shows on TV. “I think I have some kind of diplomatic immunity,” she tried.
The policeman quickened his pace, forcing her to keep up.
Ana ran to catch them.
"Vanessa! Stop, Stop!” Ana yelled.
Before Nessa could scream and struggle, the cop twisted her arm behind her back, propelling her forward a few feet toward a shiny, black SUV waiting at the end of a narrow lane. He yanked open the door and shoved her roughly inside. She could hear Ana hollering at them to stop.
There was no one in the backseat. A dark glass panel divided her from whomever was driving. Try as she might, she couldn't open the doors, nor would the windows budge. She punched the glass divide. “This is not the way to win friends and influence people!” she yelled in frustration. “Let me out—kidnapping is against the law.” No one was listening. The car kept driving through the streets.
Nessa eventually sat back. “As long as I have a chauffeur, how about a tour of the movie stars’ homes? Can we get drive-through? I could sure go for a burger and fries about now.” When no one answered, she slumped back into the seat. “Bloody Americans,” she grumbled, watching the city area start to dwindle out into suburbs. They thinned as the car winded its way up into the hills, passing some large, expensive-looking homes. Funnily enough, as they turned and passed through a high-walled and heavily guarded gate, despite the danger she was in, all she could think about was how pissed Neman was going to be.
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Chapter 8
How, in all his long life, had Slazzamar gone without this?
He groaned, his hips bucking off the bed as Darren's talented tongue and mouth sucked his cock while one of his hands firmly but gently squeezed his balls. With every tender caress of his hands, mouth, even the way he used his soft, yet hard masculine body to make love to him, everything about this human was beautiful. All Slazzamar had ever done was take, fuck, get his own satisfaction, then leave.
Now, after several hours making love with this human, Slazzamar stirred with unfamiliar feelings of happiness and contentment. He knew he never wanted to let Darren go. Yet he couldn't keep him here—the Outer Realm was a dangerous place for a human, and Slazzamar held no desire to see him harmed.
"Oohh, beautiful boy.” Slazzamar moaned his pleasure, slipping his fingers through Darren's soft, dusty blond hair and cradling his head. Darren's eyes glanced up and Slazzamar could see the smile in them. Darren drew in a deep breath, sucking harder. Slazzamar felt his climax building, sparking from the top of his brain and racing downwards. He closed his eyes, threw his head back and roared at the sheer, blinding pleasure of releasing into Darren's persistent mouth. Through the fog of his climax, he heard Darren's own moan as he swallowed all his seed, making sure Slazzamar was clean before releasing Slazzamar's cock from his hot mouth. He gripped Darren's shoulders, pulled him up into his arms and kissed him with tender passion. He tasted his own flavor in Darren's mouth, enjoying the combined tastes.
"To think I had to go to a whole new dimension to find the man of my dreams. I guess some myths are worth believing in after all,” Darren said, as he ran a lazy hand over Slazzamar's stomach and chest.
"Which myth would that be?"
"Love at first sight. The moment I saw you kicking the shit out of that garbage can, I fell in love with you."
"You love me?"
"Well I sure don't love the garbage can.” Darren chuckled.
Slazzamar couldn't believe Darren's statement; no one loved him. He pulled out of Darren's arms, climbing off his oval bed to pace around it.
"No one loves me. My demon father raped my mother and, when I was born, I was thrown on the garbage pile of the demon world. Do you know how hard it is, with my appearance, to live among demons? Demons only know malevolence and hate. You cannot love a demon, Darren."
Darren snorted and followed him off the bed, laying a hand on his shoulder. “I'm sorry for your past, Slazz. It's something no one can change, but what we can do is move forward to better things. And if you haven't noticed by now, I'm no demon so I can love whomever I wish."
"Then you are a fool.” He shoved him back, but Darren refused to be pushed away and gripped onto his arm.
"And just who brought me to this place? If you didn't feel anything for me at all, you would have let me walk right into Nessa's apartment and into great harm. You saved my life. I know you have a beating heart under this tough exterior, Slazz, a heart very capable of loving. You can deny it all you like, but the fact is I love you, and nothing's going to change that."
Slazzamar relaxed his grip, allowing Darren to slide his arms around him. He was fighting a losing battle and couldn't deny his feelings. “I'm a demon with a reputation, Darren.” He raised his hand to gently cup Darren's face. “I've heard them say I'm Slazzamar the Sneak—no secret worth keeping can be kept by him. I have more secrets locked away in here than the abyss of Hell.” He touched his head. “Now that I have you, I can no longer be the creature I once was."
"This is a good thing though—a change, a fresh start.” Darren held his gaze.
Slazzamar shook his head. “Many will want me dead for what I know. It's not safe here.” He gently pulled out of Darren's arms and walked to the window. “Even if I have these feelings for you, Darren, I cannot keep you. I may not be able to protect you from the evil which is coming."
"Don't you think that's my choice, Slazz?” Darren said, joining him at the window.
Overcome with these new feelings, Slazzamar grabbed Darren by the back of his neck, pulled him in close and claimed his mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss. “I cannot let you go now that I that know what it feels like to love,” he said, breathing in Darren's breath. “It's time to make a choice and choose a side in the coming battle. Your friend will need you and I will need a powerful ally, so let's go see your friend."
A noise below made Slazzamar release Darren to glance down. Several demon soldiers were kicking down the outer door of his tower.
"Dress quickly.” Slazzamar used his powers to summon his clothes.
"Gee, I wish I could do that.” Darren was pulling on his white pants while searching for his shirt. He found the shredded cloth in the corner. Slazzamar tore it from his body when they first arrived in their haste to make love.
There was no time. Slazzamar seized Darren and let his power build, but it was too late—the soldiers crashed through his chamber door.
The chair flew across the room, hitting the creature in the legs as he ran. Tripped, he crashed to the floor, his head spearing into the wall creating a head-sized crater. Neman slapped his hands onto the demon's shoulders, yanked him backwards and into the other three demons he'd managed to subdue. Three others and two humans in the underground bar managed to scramble out before Neman could nail their asses to the wall. Whipping out his five-inch dagger, he held it to the demon's throat.
"C'mon, man, we don't hurt the humans—they come to us willingly,” simpered the demon in Neman's grasp, his eyes glowing red behind the human disguise he wore.
"That's not why I'm here. I want to know how much information has floated up from the Lower Realm about the Chosen One."
The demon sneered evilly. “The Chosen One is hot property, Hunter—the price on her head is almost unlimited. See for yourself.” His eyes glanced down to his jacket.
Neman pinned him, ripped open his jacket, and pulled the paper from a pocket. Throwing the creature back against the wall as he unfolded it, he saw a printed picture of Vanessa. Written in an ancient language few humans could read, it stated anyone who brought her dead or alive before any of the ruling Outer Realm rulers could name their price.
"Even the humans who serve us are hunting her."
Although he wasn't surprised, a dark rage ran through Neman at the news. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He stepped back to answer it, never taking his eyes off the demons.
"Neman, it's Carlo. Someone has snatched Vanessa in broad daylight."
Neman snapped his phone shut and teleported out, reappearing in front of a shocked and distressed Carlo. Neman sheathed his blade before thundering, “What part of ‘don't let her leave the house’ didn't you understand?"
"I'm sorry, Neman. Ana took her shopping. She didn't think she was at risk."
Neman shoved the paper he still gripped in his hand at Carlo. The man paled further as he read it.
"I want to know everything that happened."
"Ana is on her way back to the house. She said Nessa was approached by a cop who dragged her away to a waiting car. She took the registration number and we're already having it traced. I swear we'll get her back safe, Neman."
Fear ripped through Neman. Losing Vanessa was not an option. He couldn't blame Carlo or Ana. The fault was his for leaving her unguarded for too long. If she were in mortal company, it was more than likely she was still alive and within the state, but if they'd handed her over to any of the demons, she was as good as dead. Neman needed to find her and quickly.
Carlo's phone beeped and he quickly answered it. “The car's been traced to a house in the Valley.” He gave Neman the address.
Neman checked his blades and left to fetch his woman.
A tall, elderly man, immaculately dressed in an expensive-looking grey suit walked down a long, open hall, his shoes squeaking on the polished, white granite floor.
"There have been a few great blunders in history and kidnapping me has just put you high on the list of being the greatest.” Nessa stood with her hands on her hips, refusing to be intimated by anyone, even by the man with the gun. Although it was
tucked into a holster under his suit jacket, he gave her a warning not to cause trouble before he let her out of the car. She glared at him as he led her into the grand mansion.
"Oh my goodness,” the elderly man said in an educated British accent. The soft wave of his grey hair matched the color of his suit. He had dark brown eyes and worry lines on his face. He waved her guard away, saying, “I am so sorry for your treatment, my dear. You were meant to be escorted here with extreme care and not manhandled by my staff. They shall be severely reprimanded for their actions."
Nessa gave a casual shrug, now that she knew she wasn't in any immediate danger.
"I am Professor Thomas Armod, leading archaeologist and expert on all things Sumerian, Mesopotamian and Babylonian. I have been waiting for you, my dear, for a very long time."
"The only thing an expert is, is a drip under pressure,” she said dryly, unimpressed with his expertise. “So you know who I am then?"
"Oh yes, you are the Chosen One. It was unfortunate the way I came across the information concerning who you were.” He produced a sheet of paper with her picture on it.
She wasn't able to read the strange text on the paper, but her photo horrified her. “Cripes, this is worse than my driver's license. Where did you get this, and what does it say?"
"My dear Miss Myles, this is your wanted poster. My staff found it on a dead demon."
"Oh, not so good then.” She swallowed, a renewed wave of fear hitting her. Neman had told her the truth about evil creatures wanting to kill her.
"This comes from the Lower Realm. I knew I needed to get to you before they did. It was a miracle we found you here in Los Angeles, as I only sent word out to my people this morning, along with your picture. I brought you here for your own protection. The prophecy must be fulfilled as it is written. You and your child are very precious.” The words tumbled out in an excited tone, and he gazed at her stomach. He reached out to touch her and Nessa stepped back.
Moonlight Captivation [Moon Shadows Book 1] Page 7