“Luciana, Corbin, allow me to introduce my dear friend, Serena St. Clair.”
No longer focused on fearing Corbin, Serena’s shocked gaze shifted to Luciana. Julian watched Serena’s dazed smile as he made the introductions; she was less adept at hiding her shock than he was. But as they took their seats in the plush booth, she tilted her head, interrogating him without uttering a single word. With a mere look, he knew she wanted answers.
Chapter Seven
Serena had been brought to dinner with three powerful demons. But was she a guest, or was she the main course?
What flashed through her mind was the image of a serpent coiled on a tree branch, along with the sound of a slither and a hiss. She was aware of the very distinct possibility that this might well be her last meal, if she were indeed allowed to survive. She reminded herself of the rules when dealing with dangerous animals: no sudden movements, and never let them sense your fear.
She forced herself to switch her attention away from her own terror. Tried to distract herself by thinking about the brief interaction that had occurred between the demons.
Amore mio. My love. That’s what Luciana had called Julian. She had the looks of an Italian super-model, tall, slender and gorgeous as she rose to greet him. The raven-haired beauty gazed at him with an unveiled hunger as she perused his powerful physique. He leaned in to press a kiss against each of her alabaster cheeks. Jealousy simmered inside of Serena.
The demoness held out a hand to Serena. “Buona sera, my dear. How pleased I am to meet you. Any friend of Julian’s is a friend of mind,” she said. Her hand was cool and delicate, and as soft as the famous silk from the shores of Lake Como. Those hands had once stroked Julian’s muscled body, urging him to heights of pleasure as she, Serena, would never dare to do. Serena’s jealousy almost bubbled over.
Apparently Luciana felt equally as jealous, because as Serena met the other woman’s stare, she saw the cold calculation a rabbit might see in the eyes of a viper waiting to strike.
Shivering, Serena withdrew her hand and backed unconsciously into Julian, seeking the reassurance of his strength. Then she recoiled immediately, realizing that she might as well have been backing away from a viper and into the grip of a king cobra.
“My dear, you’re lovely,” Corbin said. Serena forced herself to hold her stance and the smile that was frozen on her face. If not for Julian, she would have bolted. By all appearances, Corbin Ranulfson, with his fair hair and amber-colored eyes, was a good-looking man in his mid-thirties. By now she knew that when it came to demons, a deceptive appearance was not just a possibility, but a general rule.
Corbin was famous. Or rather, he was infamous. His name was whispered in hushed tones by the angels, and every new Guardian, including Serena, had been specifically warned to avoid him. He was classically handsome, like Julian was. She might have taken a second look if she had seen him on the street. But he was infinitely more malevolent than Julian would ever be. And now, here she was, in the midst of his domain. With Julian as her only lifeline.
Serena tried to hide her dismay as Corbin bent low over her hand, mimicking Julian’s continental manners. Vapors of alcohol wafted from him as he kissed her hand. As he rose, his gaze ran appreciatively over her curves. She could not control the shudder of fear that ran through her body.
He smiled a rattlesnake’s smile. “Welcome to Firebrand. Won’t you have an aperitif, m’dear? We’ve opened the evening with absinthe, as a tribute to Luciana’s lovely eyes,” Corbin said. He beamed at Luciana, whose chilling peridot gaze still rested, unwavering, on Serena.
She’d heard of absinthe before, vaguely remembered its rumored effects. Blindness, hallucinations, convulsions. If the demons insisted on maintaining this veneer of normality, she had no choice but to play along. She mustered a forced confidence and smiled. “No, thanks.”
“What, not an absinthe drinker?” Corbin boomed. “How about a Cinzano, then? In honor of my dear lady’s homeland.”
“I don’t drink,” Serena said flatly.
“Come now,” Julian said. “Surely you’ll raise a glass on this one special occasion. You wouldn’t want to disrespect our esteemed host’s hospitality. Why don’t you have the Cinzano—we both will,” he said. “Unless you prefer champagne, my dear.”
He spoke the words, but there was something rather hollow about his teasing. Something was simmering behind that debonair facade of his. It had slipped, only for a brief second, no more. But was it lust she’d seen flash in his eyes when he’d seen Luciana? For the first time since Serena had met him, his attention had wandered from her. She should be grateful. But it frightened her beyond words.
The other couple resumed their seats in the semi-circular booth. Luciana sat on one end, with Corbin beside her. It seemed expected that Serena should take the place between him and Julian. She hesitated for a moment, until Julian nudged her forward, leaving her no option but to sit, sandwiched between the two men.
She forced herself to breathe deeply, to sit quietly without fidgeting. Julian’s arm rested along the back of the booth, encircling her shoulders. His fingers skimmed her shoulder with a touch that was light, yet unmistakably proprietary. She was sure he could feel her trembling.
“Glad you could join us, old friend,” Corbin said, leaning against her as he addressed Julian. “Construction’s almost finished on the nightclub. The tradesmen are just putting the finishing touches on the painting and construction. Have you seen it yet?”
Julian shook his head no. Corbin looked at him quizzically. “What? You mean to say that you haven’t had a chance to look at your coup de grâce?”
“I’ve had more important things to do,” Julian said lightly.
“But your work has always come first,” Corbin insisted. Then he eyed Serena and nodded knowingly. “Ah. I see.”
“Perhaps they spent the afternoon indoors,” Luciana said waspishly.
“I was showing Serena the Strip,” Julian said, his tone still mild.
Luciana frowned, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “I bet you were watching her strip.”
Serena’s cheeks flushed with heat, but she ignored their banter, picking up the menu. She flipped through it, trying to think of a way to change the subject. “What do you recommend?”
“Spring lamb, skewered and charbroiled,” Luciana said. “That would make a nice antipasto for you, Julian—an appetizer to whet your taste buds. You seem to have a taste for young and tender things these days. For the next course, perhaps the capelli d’angelo. Angel hair. How appropriate.” She gave Serena a superior little smile. In the flicker of the candlelight, Luciana’s smile seemed to contort into a demonic grin. For a moment, Serena thought she saw horns.
“Luciana, stop,” Corbin chided. “You’ll frighten the poor child.”
But Luciana continued, unabated. “Pity there’s no angel food cake on the menu. Julian will have to find another sweet for dessert,” she taunted.
Serena had held her tongue long enough. She leaned forward and met Luciana’s green gaze straight on. “It seems he’s lost his taste for devil’s food cake. All that darkness can become cloying after a while, don’t you think?”
Luciana gasped. From the glare she shot across the table, it was clear that if Corbin had not been sitting between them, they would have had the beginnings of a catfight. Although Serena had never hit anyone in her life, she certainly wasn’t going to hold back if Luciana attacked her.
Julian chuckled near Serena’s ear. One of his hands still rested on her shoulder. Beneath the table, his other hand skimmed up her leg, skating beneath the hem of her dress and to brush the bare skin of her thigh. She tried to ignore the shiver of pleasure that tingled through her body.
Just then the drinks arrived, providing a momentary distraction. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, too low for the others to hear, “Better the devil you know.”
While Julian whispered, Serena could have sworn she saw the demoness reach across the tabl
e, her pale hand hovering over his glass for an instant. But when she looked back, Luciana was fingering a pendant that hung around her neck.
The demoness raised her glass with an unexpectedly sweet smile, and said, “Cin, Cin!”
Serena had not intended to drink her Cinzano, but now she took a large swallow, letting the vermouth trickle down her throat. The liquor was delicate and sweet, an unexpected flavor among this gathering of demons. Then she noticed Corbin frowning, his gaze fixed on Julian’s drink.
“Is that a crack?” the older demon asked, leaning across her. The nearness of him made her recoil as she followed his stare to the object of his disapproval. To her eye, Julian’s glass was perfectly intact, without even a hairline fracture visible.
Nonetheless, Corbin called the waiter. The poor man sidled up to the table, his face as white as the pristine tablecloth. Corbin looked pointedly at Luciana as he handed the glass to the waiter.
“There’s a crack in this glass,” said the hotelier.
The waiter blinked, perplexed as he examined the glass. His face blanched even whiter. “I don’t see one, but I’m sorry if there is a crack, sir.”
“Leave it here,” Luciana insisted. “Let Julian enjoy his Cinzano.”
“Take it away,” Corbin said. His tone remained neutral, but his mouth compressed into a bloodless line as he continued to look at Luciana.
The waiter cowered. “Yes, sir. Please accept my most sincere apologies, sir. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again. I’m aware that there are consequences of breakage.”
“Go,” Corbin ordered, cutting him off with a warning glance.
“Here, Julian, have my glass,” Luciana offered.
Corbin reached forward and knocked it out of her hand. In that same toneless voice, he drawled, “Excuse my clumsiness, my dear.”
A wordless exchange passed between the demon couple. Between them, an amber stain was spreading on the tablecloth. Serena could feel it crawling toward her. Just before the liquid reached her, Julian interceded, reaching over to toss a napkin on top of the stain.
“Let’s forget about it,” he said, echoing Corbin’s mild tone. “I’ll have a Scotch instead.”
Then, as if the incident had never occurred, Corbin’s demeanor shifted and he resumed the conversation.
Serena sat very still, trying not to look at any of them. What exactly had the waiter meant when he’d referred to the consequences of breakage? She was hardly stupid enough to ask aloud, but she could only guess how Corbin treated his employees. Nor had she missed the tension between the three demons, an uneasy truce between them that seemed as though it might break at any moment. If they caught her gaze now, they would certainly see the fear in her eyes. She could feel Julian’s eyes boring into her, probing. “Everything all right?” he asked.
Forcing herself to look at him, she smiled. “Perfect.” But everything was far from perfect. She prayed that the evening would end quickly, and wondered how she was going to survive a week of this peculiar kind of hell.
Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Julian perused his dinner companions as he sipped the Scotch that arrived to replace his glass of Cinzano. Julian knew, as the other two demons knew, that the glass was not cracked.
Luciana had just tried to poison him.
From the corner of his eye, Julian had seen the subtle flick of her fingertips as she slipped a few drops of some undoubtedly lethal toxin into his glass.
Now, across the table, the she-demon simpered at him with an unapologetic smile.
Was he surprised? Not really. Attempted murder at the dinner table was practically de rigueur in his circles. He hadn’t thrived in the demon world for this long without learning to watch his own back.
Luciana was one enemy he knew inside and out, quite literally. She was dangerous. Fiercely independent, she’d managed to whore and trick her way to the status of Rogue demon, wandering among humans and leaving devastation in her path. On the outside, she was all alabaster skin and mist-green eyes. On the inside lurked a malevolent and unpredictable killer.
Julian could defend himself against her transparent rage. But the she-demon had clearly set her sights on Serena. Lord, if Luciana managed to get even a single strand of real angel hair between those teeth of hers, he would tear her limb from limb, and damn the consequences.
As for Corbin, Julian trusted him. As far as he could throw him. The waiter’s face told a story of punishments and brutality. Of Corbin’s ruthless methods of management.
He sensed Serena shift beneath his touch, shaken by the demons’ behavior. The latent violence underlying their actions had clearly terrified her. She excused herself to use the ladies’ room, and as she rose from the table he wished they were alone. So he could hold her and protect her. So he could tell her that he would never let them harm her.
But Luciana rose, as well. “I think I’ll join you, my dear.”
The angel’s eyes widened with fear, but she went anyway. He had to hand it to Serena—she was a tough little cookie. He half rose from his seat, ready to follow them into the ladies’ room to ensure that Luciana didn’t harm Serena.
Corbin stopped him. “Luciana wouldn’t dare hurt your little friend. Not here. This is my territory, and she’s not supposed to act without my permission. If she steps out of line, I will fricassee her longer than the chef’s special.”
Julian settled back into his seat, but kept his gaze on the women as they receded. “Did she have your permission for that little stunt with the poison?”
“Old chap, I had no idea,” he said blandly. Julian studied the other man’s face, trying to decide if he was lying. But Corbin’s icy gaze was as impenetrable as he said, “I would never have let her go through with it.”
Perhaps, Julian thought, but only because she didn’t have your blessing. Out loud he said, “Luciana’s a handful, isn’t she?”
“I vaguely recollected there was some harpy in your past, but I didn’t realize it was Luciana,” the older Archdemon said. “I only understood when you walked in tonight. Trust me, my good man, I’d never have taken up with her if I’d known. Golden rule, you know.”
Julian doubted that Corbin heeded any human rules, much less the understanding between men that his friend’s former lovers were off-limits. Yet, there was something oddly genuine in the other man’s demeanor.
Corbin sipped his absinthe. “I don’t usually take leftovers. But I wouldn’t mind a go at your present delight. What heavenly creature have you captured? There’s something quite exquisite about her.”
Julian wanted to punch him. He wanted to cover Serena with a tablecloth and drag her from this den of demons, far from the prying eyes of those who might hurt her. Bringing her here had been a mistake. He had vastly underestimated the power of her beauty to draw Corbin’s interest.
Corbin smiled, knowing Julian wouldn’t dare to touch him. Only a fool would dare start a war with the second in command to the Prince of Hell. Besides, they were on Corbin’s territory, surrounded by an army of his minions. “A Guardian, is she?” Corbin said idly. “How utterly delicious.”
Julian’s voice was a low growl. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I would never dare poach on your territory,” Corbin said, smoothing over Julian’s antagonistic tone with his suave manner. “Just admiring the view, old chap. What women never seem to realize when they go to the ladies’ room together is that it leaves the men behind to talk.”
Julian sent Corbin another warning glance. They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their drinks. If it came to an altercation, Julian wondered who would win. Corbin was powerful, but his power had been untested in recent years. Would Julian be able to take down the older Archdemon if it came to a fair fight?
If Corbin ever got his hands on her, Serena would suffer the worst kind of damnation imaginable. Corbin’s sexual perversions ranged widely; he was capable of inflicting intense and extended pain. Once he was done with her, he would cast her mutila
ted body to his Gatekeepers. On the surface, he and Corbin might be allies, but Julian would fight to the death before he let her fall into the other Archdemon’s clutches.
For Serena’s sake, as well as his own, he vowed it would not come to that.
I’m way out of my league, Serena thought desperately. I’ve got to call Arielle.
The few minutes she had bought herself were precious, and she knew she had to make them count. Heading toward the ladies’ room, she prayed that there was someone in there with a cell phone. Thankfully, a teenaged girl was there, washing her hands.
But before Serena could even open her mouth to ask, Luciana walked in.
Serena went to the mirror, reapplied her lipstick and tried to ignore Luciana’s obvious stare. At five foot six, Serena had never felt short, but Luciana loomed beside her, topping her by at least four inches. The demoness stood nearly six feet tall in heels—almost as tall as Julian. He and Serena made a striking couple. But paired with Luciana, the effect must have been breathtaking, with their eyes in complementing shades. They were two of a kind. Dark, sleek and powerful, like a pair of matched horses.
Or a couple of camouflaged bush vipers.
Luciana opened her purse and began touching up her makeup, as well. She looked down at Serena and said, “We ladies go through torture in order to make ourselves into creatures of beauty, no? Some have even used poison for its cosmetic effects. Do you know women once used belladonna, a very deadly type of flower, to make the pupils appear larger. To enhance the illusion of innocence. But I suppose you don’t need any help in that department, do you? What a sweet dress you have on. So angelic. Did Julian pick it out for you? It’s just his taste.”
“As a matter of fact, he did,” Serena said. She could not tell a lie, but it irked her to admit that Luciana was right, especially about Julian’s preferences. She wondered how long they’d been lovers, how serious their relationship had been.
“He is fantastic in bed, wouldn’t you say?” she said casually. “Knows exactly how to touch a woman. He makes you feel as though you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. But of course, he is a master of seduction.”
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