Dancing With the Devil (The Devil #2)

by Heather C. Myers

  “Leave us be for a few minutes gentlemen,” Andrew order in a crisp, cool voice. His eyes narrowed when he saw Nigel look up at him, and Andrew locked his jaw, wanting Nigel to speak first if the prisoner chose to speak at all.

  The guards nodded, knowing better than to question their king, and disappeared down the small hallway – enough distance between them to ensure they did not overhear a conversation they were not permitted to listen to, but close enough to aid their King should he give a shout, or anything that revealed he was in distress. Andrew didn’t even watch them go. His eyes were fixated on the man before him, the man behind the bars. Nigel, too, remained silent, and it was only after minutes passed, did he finally say something.

  “And what do I owe this grand honor to, Your Highness?” Nigel asked, obvious sarcasm dripping from his rich, silky tone. His blue eyes flashed but Andrew wasn’t intimidated. He wasn’t afraid of anything. “Did you come to thank me for breaking her in for you? Apologize for stopping me?”

  Without warning, Andrew reached in a wrapped his long fingers around Nigel’s throat, squeezing him without mercy. Andrew’s face had contorted into a scowl; he wanted nothing more than to see the man be deprived of oxygen from his own hand. Andrew wouldn’t be able to kill him, of course, but the transference between alive in Hell, to death, to becoming alive once again, was the most painful attack on someone anyone could come up with. And Andrew was tempted to spend the entire day slowly killing Nigel, watching him come back to life only to do the same thing once more.

  “See, what I can’t understand is why,” Andrew said through gritted teeth as he applied more pressure to Nigel’s neck, ignoring the gasps and chokes coming from the prisoner. “Why?”

  With that, Andrew released him only to have Nigel respond in some way.

  After a moment of coughing and trying to reclaim his breath, Nigel looked up, a gaze of pure hatred written all over his face. But he didn’t deny Andrew’s request, and, in fact, complied with it. Andrew needed to hear this, needed to realize just what became of him, and as a result, his kingdom.

  “Simply put, Your Highness,” Nigel started, each word dripping with emphasized dryness, “you are going soft. I’m not exactly sure if your new trophy wife is to blame, though I think she is. I did what I had to do for the people. The people. You remember your people, yes? How can you appear to be intimidating when you allow some girl to step in a start making decisions for our Court? You ignore what needs to be done because your heart – I was surprised to find that you actually had one – got in the way of your head. This isn’t some fairytale. This is Hell. And I cannot, in good faith, allow you to get soft and risk ruining Hell’s reputation.”

  “I am surprised at your concern, Nigel,” Andrew said, his voice low and articulate. “But to be honest, I could care less at what your opinion of your Queen or my rulings is. I am your King, and I shall do what I see fit despite your worrying or grievances. I have no idea what your punishment will be, but a few centuries down here should be plenty of time for me to figure it out. I can promise you this, Nigel. Your punishment will not be pleasant. You will suffer a great deal. And anybody who even thinks of releasing you from here will be locked up and can suffer along with you.” He turned then, and headed down the hallway that would lead him up to the south staircase.

  “Do whatever you want to me,” Nigel called after his retreating figure. “But your Queen will get hurt sooner or later at your obvious lack of concern for your kingdom. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

  Andrew didn’t even look back as he took the stairs two at a time. That didn’t, however, give him reason to calm down at all. In fact, if he was honest, his stress levels had increased dramatically, and he needed to find some sort of way to calm himself down. To get his head on straight and to figure out what he was going to do if what Nigel had said was correct. If people were planning something against him and Harleen. He’d like to see someone even attempt to do something to her. He needed to make an example of Nigel.

  There was one place he usually went to in order to help him reduce stress levels, but before he left, he wanted to check on Harleen, to make sure she was all right. Silently, he walked back into the bedroom he shared with her and found her slipped under the covers, her eyes closed and her breathing steady. A fire was slowly dying out in the fireplace, and something inside of him told him she had burned the dress. He didn’t blame her.

  Harleen was sleeping.

  Andrew took a long moment to look at her, to really study her and try to capture what was going through her mind in that exactly moment. A stray strand of hair had fallen in her face, and with a slight brush of his fingers, he curled it over her ear. His eyes dropped to her eyes, wondering what it was dreamt about. If she had a nightmare, or if her dreams provided ample recluse from everything that had happened to her that day. And then there were her lips – those lips that he had barely tasted and yet could not get enough of. His anticipation was building until the moment when she would pursue a real relationship with him, when they could start working together as a team, rather than apart. His eyes took in the graceful slope of her long neck, and without stopping himself, trailed his fingers down it. She shifted in her sleep, but a soft, delighted smile took hold of her lips, and Andrew couldn’t help but smile in return.

  He couldn’t believe something horrible had almost happened to her. If he hadn’t been outside at the time, didn’t hear a struggle for off… Andrew didn’t want to think about it, but he knew he was lucky to have prevented such an atrocious act from happening to his Queen. If Nigel told the truth, next time, he might not be so lucky.

  He needed to leave, to sort this entire mess out. And hopefully he wouldn’t have to worry about it, that Nigel lied about everything. Maybe he was. But Andrew didn’t want to take that chance.

  Without another thought, Andrew leaned forward and pressed a kiss on Harleen’s forehead, hoping the gentle act wouldn’t wake her. He wanted nothing more than to do the same action against her lips, but he didn’t want to startle her, and he had already taken too many chances when it came to kissing her.

  When he finished, Andrew swept his eyes over Harleen once again before standing up and straightening, and then headed out the door. He would solve this if it killed him and brought him back.

  Chapter 9

  Strip clubs were prevalent in Hell, though just like on earth, certain places held them in abundance while others didn’t have a trace of them. Andrew didn’t frequent strip clubs often, and he only did when he stressed out about something. Currently, he was upset and knew that if he didn’t get out of the castle as fast as possible, he would punch a hole in a wall, and that was the first thing he would do. Of course he wanted to be with Harleen, to make sure that she was all right, but she seemed to want to be alone. That was how she dealt with things, and even though it frustrated him, he could respect that. On the other hand, Andrew highly doubted Harleen would be able to extend to him the same courtesy. Not that he would blame her. It was a strip club after all. But somehow, being anonymous in a hazy environment, he could rationalize problems, come up with solutions, and calm down.

  Andrew should have told Harleen just where he was going and why, but he didn’t want to upset her more than she already was. He also didn’t want to ruin the relationship they were building. Yes, it would be a long time coming, but he had made headway with her, and somewhere inside of him, he knew she was beginning to like him. Telling her about his strip club solution would no doubt ruin all of that, and as a result, he ultimately decided he wasn’t going to bring it up. Maybe later, but definitely not now.

  He decided to take one of his twelve cars, knowing if he showed up at Benny’s in a carriage, everyone would know exactly who it was, and the media would have a field day. The drive was twenty five minutes, and the parking lot wasn’t that crowded. He had black shades on, and his hair was pulled into a small ponytail. He hoped nobody would recognize him, and if they did, hoped they wouldn’t make a big dea
l about anything, especially since he did need to relax…

  I’m sure there are other ways to relax, a voice inside his mind taunted. You shouldn’t be here.

  Andrew banished the thought. He didn’t want to think about anything, and with that, he opened the door and walked inside.

  --

  Harleen had been lounging in bed, staring up at the ceiling for the past hour and a half thinking about absolutely nothing. Her body was numb, but with each passing moment, more and more thoughts believed it to be safe to flitter through her consciousness. She thought of school, wondering what literature Mrs. King assigned. She thought of Rosco, wondering if he was worried about her, if he even missed her, or if he was upset when he realized that not only had she disappeared, but Andrew had too. She thought of her uncle, wondering if he knew exactly where she was, wondering if he regretted selling her soul or if he spent his money as though it was going out of style. And finally, she thought of Andrew, and how particularly good looking he was, and how she was beginning to like him, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  And not just like him, but like him. It was hard not to fall for someone who cared about her well being, who treated her like an equal, who was devilishly handsome (quite literally, in fact). Speaking of Andrew, she wondered where he was. Yes, she wanted to be alone, but now more than ever, she wanted his arms wrapped around her with the promise that everything was going to be okay. When Andrew was around, Harleen felt safe, and though she could take care of herself to a certain extent, she couldn’t help but revel in the comfort Andrew’s presence gave her.

  At that moment, the door opened and Sean walked in, carrying in a tray of food that Harleen’s stomach couldn’t resist. When Harleen saw him, she sat up and threw her legs over the bed before standing and heading over to Sean.

  “How are you, Your Highness?” Sean asked as he set the tray down on the small dining table located in the pocket of the bedroom.

  “Sean, you know you can call me Harleen,” she told him sincerely, a teasing smile touching her lips. “And I’m fine. I mean, I was scared – I am still kind of scared – but it’s okay. Nothing happened to me.” She crossed her arms over her chest, choosing to look at the food rather than at Sean. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me where Andrew is. I’ve been looking for him, but…” She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s a lie. I’ve been here the whole time, but I want to talk to him.” She shifted her eyes to look back at Sean, hoping he’d be able to help her.

  Sean opened his mouth before cutting himself off and looking away. “I have no idea where he might be, Harleen,” he said before standing up straight. “Now, if there’s anything else I can get you, just let me know” -

  “You’re lying to me Sean,” Harleen said, surprised at such a revelation. “You know where Andrew is. Can’t you tell me where he is?”

  “I can’t,” Sean said, before gesturing at the food. “Now, again, if you need anything” -

  “Sean,” Harleen said, her voice firm. “I need to talk to my husband.” Yes, she had just called him her husband; desperate times called for desperate measures. “And since you know where he is, I need you to tell me. So I can talk to him.” Sean looked like he was going to protest, but Harleen cut him off by adding a soft, “Please.”

  Sean sighed through his nose, finally relenting. Maybe it was a good thing he was going to tell Harleen where Andrew was; Andrew was a married man now, and he needed to step up and take some form of responsibility. When things got rough, he couldn’t just hide at one of those places, or his marriage would surely fall apart. “A gentleman’s club,” he finally said, avoiding Harleen’s eyes. “I don’t know which one.”

  --

  This wasn’t helping like it used to. Sure, he watched the women as they moved sensually to the music, rocking their hips back and forth, up and down. A few of the girls recognized him and tried to tempt him into a private show, despite his wedding ring so blatant on his left ring finger. But he refused. If Andrew was anything, he was loyal, even when he didn’t have to be.

  Yes, these women were sexy, but how many other men had seen them this way, had they tempted into succumbing? Andrew had a woman waiting for him at him at home, untouched and all his. What was he doing here? Instead of solving his problem, he seemed to be causing more.

  He needed to leave. He had to see Harleen, to make sure that she was all right, after everything she had been through.

  The drive home was quicker than the drive out, and soon, Andrew was in his bedroom but Harleen wasn’t in sight. Had she left too? An idea struck him, and his lips curled into his typical crooked smile as he headed out the door and down the hall. Maybe Harleen’s place to work things out was the library. While he escaped from the world with dancing women, maybe she did the same with books.

  And there she was, his hypothesis correct. She was curled on the couch, a book in her lap, a dim fire keeping her warm in the fire place. Harleen glanced up at him upon hearing the door open, but her eyes flickered back to her book as though she didn’t care that he was there. He frowned at this, and approached her, shoving his hands in his pockets while keeping his eyes fixated on her.

  “So, I” -

  He began, but Harleen cut him off.

  “I would just like to be alone,” she said in a quiet voice, her words icy and cold. She didn’t even look up at him.

  Andrew realized Harleen must have found out about where he went, and as a result, seemed to upset with him. He couldn’t exactly blame her, but her being mad at him frustrated him. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he told her, trying not to be defensive but rather sincere. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”

  Harleen looked up at him, her eyes flashing emerald. Was he expecting her to just put away her book and walk back to the bed they were supposed to share together, especially after where he went? Yes, Harleen didn’t want to be married to him, but she was, and he was the one who had initiated it. Something wasn’t right when he had to leave her in order to go to some stupid strip club.

  “I’m not even tired,” she informed him, her eyes drifting back to her book.

  And that’s where she stayed even when Andrew left her by herself.

  Chapter 10

  A few more days passed, and Sean watched the interaction between Andrew and his new wife with sharp eyes. Harleen, surprisingly enough, was starting to forgive him, or at least, she talked to him more and didn’t bring up the whole Andrew-going-to-a-strip-club-thing. At least not yet. But Sean had a feeling Harleen was trying to move past it, especially since Andrew had saved her from Nigel, who was still rotting in his prison cell. However, Sean’s sharp eyes also captured something else; Harleen was getting antsy. Court hadn’t been held in the past few days – not until Andrew sorted out everything that had happened to Harleen and what to do with Nigel – but with that, she hadn’t left the castle. Yes, Harleen was apt to amuse herself with books, but sometimes she wanted to go out and walk around. Maybe even meet new people besides Andrew, Sean, and Amber.

  Sean pulled Andrew aside after dinner was finished, deciding to tell Andrew what he thought about his observations. “The Queen seems to be getting cabin fever, Your Highness,” he explained, speaking in a hushed voice. He also hoped that what he said wouldn’t offend Andrew because he wasn’t trying to. “Maybe you should take her out to a nightclub and see how she likes it. Something like that.”

  Andrew thought about it for a long moment before nodding his head in agreement. “We could all go,” he said, looking at Sean expectantly. “I don’t want her to feel like I’m asking her on a date. If I were, I wouldn’t be taking her to a nightclub, that’s for sure. But if we all go, it would be as though we were relaxing. It might even be fun. She might enjoy herself.”

  “You’ve known her before, sir,” Sean said. “Was she the nightclub type?”

  A crooked smile touched Andrew’s lips as he shook his head. “No, not at all,” he said, his tone almost nostalgic. “But I think that’s why I picked her. And
she might not be a nightclub person, but I have this feeling… I think she likes to dance. Perhaps she just needs to be in a certain environment and her good girl shell will peel away as her inhibitions fall to the wayside. And she’ll dance her ass off.”

  Sean suppressed a smirk. Andrew had been thinking about this for a while and just needed a reason to test out his theory. “Right,” he said as he turned and headed for the bedroom door. “Well, I’m going to go inform Amber and she’ll tell Harleen.”

  “Have them meet the two of us there,” Andrew told his friend and assistant. “I want to test out another theory of mine.”