Luciana thought about the facial she’d had this afternoon. The little aesthetician had been so talented, truly gifted at her trade. Afterward, with a single flick of her practiced wrist, Luciana had snapped the girl’s neck. She had the Gatekeepers drain the body and dispose of the corpse while Corbin was away, and then gave herself a lovely facial with the girl’s blood. She eyed the showgirl who was now stroking Corbin’s enormous member, ready for another round. Corbin flicked his tongue over the girl’s nipple; she giggled and threw her head back, her honey-blond hair spilling down her back and onto the bed beneath her.
“I detest being cooped up,” Luciana pouted, barely entertained as Corbin frolicked with the showgirl. “But I can’t wait until we get our hands on Julian’s little puritan of an angel,” she said. Corbin’s eyes flared, his mouth still lapping at the showgirl’s breasts. He maneuvered his face between the girl’s legs, and bent to taste her, staring into Luciana’s eyes as he did so.
He would tire of this human quickly enough. And after that, the showgirl might share the fate of this afternoon’s aesthetician. Corbin probably already had plans for her. Sometimes he liked to dismember human women after he’d had his way with them, just for the fun of listening to them scream. Once, she’d seen him cannibalize the body of a human woman who was still alive, the blood running down his chin as he savored the taste of her living flesh. The thought of it made Luciana shiver, even in the heat of Corbin’s too-warm bedroom. Watching him pound his cock into the showgirl’s willing body, it pleased her to know that the human girl would be dead within the hour. The pretty mortal’s flesh would be torn apart, her limbs severed by the force of the Archdemon’s bare hands.
And as for Serena… Luciana smiled, wondering what it would be like to bathe in an angel’s blood.
Chapter Fourteen
Hell is surprisingly comfortable, Serena thought as she drifted out of the dark space of sleep. She was warm, although not burning hot, and she had the sensation that someone was trailing fingertips across her back. Hell was not just comfortable. It was downright pleasurable.
She opened her eyes. She wasn’t in hell. She was lying with her head resting on Julian’s chest, in his bed. Except for the rumpled sheets, the bed was bare; all the other bedclothes had been thrown off during the night. Julian opened his eyes, so clear she might have been peering beneath the blue-green surface of a glacier-fed lake, shot through with streaks of gold sunlight. His fingertips rounded over the globe of her buttock.
“Good morning, angel.”
Good afternoon, more like it. Day streamed in through the half-open drapes, and outside, the sun was already high and the sky, blazing blue. She stretched her sore body, muscles still tender from the rigors of last night’s marathon of pleasure.
Last night.
She shot upright, not bothering to hide her nakedness. He had seen it all anyway, had kissed and caressed every curve of her body, had worshipped every inch of her bare skin last night. Still, that brilliant gaze roamed over her, as hungry as though he’d never laid eyes on her before.
“I’m still here,” she said. She had not been sucked into a vortex and carried off to hell. But why not? Wasn’t that what happened to fallen angels? Whatever she’d said to him and to herself last night about keeping love in her heart, there was still a little niggling doubt in the back of her mind that was not sure about what might happen. In any case, she was pretty sure that angels who fell weren’t just left to their own business the morning after committing a carnal sin.
Julian reached for her again; she swatted his hand away. “I need to figure out what’s going on.” She thought, I need to call Arielle. So I can find out whether there were any consequences after last night. Whether it’s safe to remain here for another two days.
“Stop worrying.” His mouth curled into a sexy little smile. “What could be more important than this?” he said, dipping his head to catch her nipple in his mouth.
Involuntarily, she stretched back at the pleasure of it. Ignoring her own desire, she tried to push him away, tried to push away the sensations that were building in her. He was ready for her, his heavy member erect. She twisted, seeking the clothes she’d discarded on the floor last night. But he pulled her to him, running his hands up her back and continuing to trail kisses along her breasts. His faint beard stubble rasped against her soft skin.
“I have you until midnight tomorrow. Then you are free to leave. Not a moment earlier,” he whispered.
Panic started to rise in her. Mixed with desire, it was a potent cocktail as he rolled on top of her, spreading her thighs. In a single, powerful stroke, he entered her. He pushed deeper, claiming her, plunging into her with an intensity that swept away all her worries of falling.
She arched up to meet him and they soared.
I’m no good for you, sweetheart, Julian thought as they lay sated after their lovemaking.
Her head rested sweetly on his chest, his fingers sifted idly through the silk of her hair. The half-drawn curtains muted the bright afternoon; her hair brought the sun into the room and washed him in strands of light. He thought of the gold rush that had brought him to this part of the country. It had taken him a century and a half to find the real treasure.
She gave a little sigh, running her fingers through the light curls on his chest.
It was abundantly clear to him that he must let her go. He had staked his claim, but now he was going to have to abandon the treasure. Or his selfishness would ruin her. His plan to destroy her had crumbled to dust. Now, there was no way he could relegate her to eternal damnation, not even if it meant that she would remain by his side forever. Better never to see her again and know she was safe.
Tomorrow night at midnight. They had agreed on it. Ordinarily, he would not have let a contract scribbled on a cocktail napkin dictate his pleasure. He would have found a way around it. Because he, Julian Ascher, was adept at such things.
This time would be different. This time, he would let her go, not only because his honor demanded it, but because it was the best thing for her. In her absence, he would survive. He, Julian Ascher, master of temptation, connoisseur of pleasure, would simply go back to his old ways. Find himself another woman, maybe two, to divert his attention. Or so he told himself.
In the meantime, a few dozen hours remained. He stirred again, considering the thousands of ways he could pleasure her, wondering how many of them he could squeeze into those remaining hours. He bent to kiss her. Tried to ignore the certain knowledge brewing within him that he was kidding himself that his life would ever be the same without her.
After they made love, they lounged in bed for another hour, feeding each other ripe strawberries from the room-service cart. Serena was still worried about her status as an angel—Julian could see it in her eyes. But to him, she appeared to be resigned to spending one last day with him. So they lingered, savoring the sweetness of the berries and of each other’s bodies.
A knock at the front door interrupted them. Julian threw on a bathrobe and went to answer it.
In the hallway, Corbin stood waiting. He cast a knowing glance over Julian’s attire, and said, “You sly dog. Still in bed at two in the afternoon, eh?”
Julian grinned hard, wishing Corbin would just go away. He tightened the sash of the robe. “What do you want, Corbin?”
The hotelier walked into the suite, peering around, probably for signs of Serena. “You left early last night. Too bad. It was memorable. I haven’t had so much prime tail in one night since the Summer of Love back in sixty-seven.” He grinned, all dazzling white teeth.
Julian smiled along with him. But unlike Corbin, he didn’t need an orgy to satisfy his sexual cravings. All he needed was Serena.
“Just dropped by to let you know I’m hosting a high-stakes poker game tonight. It would be good if you could join us,” he said, looking pointedly at Julian. It was not an invitation. It was an order. “The buy-in is a million dollars.”
Julian cleared his throat
. The money wasn’t an issue. Money could be made in the blink of an eye. But when Corbin gambled, he didn’t just play for money.
He played for souls.
Tonight, Julian had planned on one last secluded evening alone with Serena. Tomorrow night, they would be surrounded by crowds when the club opened. And then he would let her go.
Corbin knew that. He was already betting on it, even before the poker game started. He wanted Serena, had finally succeeded on getting his hands on her last night, if only briefly, at his party. But Corbin wanted more of her. Julian could see it in the other Archdemon’s eyes.
Take the angel and leave. Go somewhere and don’t look back, Julian thought to himself for an instant. Then he realized how impossible that would be. Running away was not something in an Archdemon’s arsenal of tricks. He would lose everything he had worked these past two centuries to achieve. Would open himself up to vulnerability. No. Julian would not run. Not because of an asshole like Corbin.
“I’m not the keenest poker player,” Julian told him. Which was the furthest thing from the truth. Poker was a staple in the backrooms of Devil’s Paradise and his other clubs. He was an expert at it. And it never hurt to start bluffing early.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll see you tonight.” Corbin smiled. “And bring Serena. She can watch from the gallery.”
“Of course,” Julian said, concealing his dismay.
He shut the door and returned to bed, knowing with dead certainty that behind that cold gaze of Corbin’s, something truly horrific was brewing.
Weak means strong, strong means weak. That was the secret to most poker “tells”—the clues hidden in a player’s body language that would tell whether he or she was bluffing. A player who leaned back in a chair with slumped shoulders was probably holding a royal flush. A player with a puffed-up chest, who sat a little straighter than usual, most likely had a pair of deuces. There were other clues: the subtle fidget with the edge of the cards, the nervous flicker of the eyes, the minuscule twitch of a smile.
But not here. Not at Corbin’s table, where an elite group gathered on Friday night, closed off from the prying eyes of the crowds in the main casino outside. Each of the six players around the table—all men, all high-ranking demons—were masters of deception, well schooled in the art of bluffing. They bantered easily among each other, cracking jokes and telling stories. But every fidget, every flicker, every twitch was carefully orchestrated to create the illusion of the casual, the human. With these players, there were no tells.
In front of each player, stacks of cash held together with paper bands stood beside piles of the ivory poker chips Corbin used for all his high-stakes games. Serena sat in a chair nearby, legs elegantly crossed. Julian smiled to himself. In a little black dress, with her blond hair swept back off her face, there was an air of sophistication about her that Julian had never seen before. Yet, she still looked angelic. Behind that virtuous facade, nobody would ever have guessed that they’d spent the afternoon fucking.
Beside her, Nick slouched with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face. Whether that was because of his thwarted crush on Serena, or because he had not been invited to the table, Julian did not know or care. The human would have been decimated at poker with the current set of players within ten minutes flat, in any case. Poor fool.
Corbin’s voice broke through Julian’s solitude. “You look like the cat that got the cream, my boy.”
Julian could not resist a smirk. “Maybe I did.”
The dealer shuffled, throwing the cards with an efficient flick of the wrist. Across the table, Corbin ruminated behind dark glasses, as though he needed to hide his already inscrutable expression. Yet, emotions did not need to appear on a man’s face to be self-evident. Julian could feel his envy. Just like Nick, Corbin wanted Serena, and he wanted her badly. Julian could see it in the twitch of Corbin’s body, the tension in his posture. No dark glasses could hide that.
The storm was brewing, and soon it would break.
Corbin stood and spoke. “All right, boys. Welcome to the table. It’s no-limits five-card stud. As you know, it’s a one-million-dollar buy-in.”
The play began. The hands went quickly, each player responding much faster than a human would. These men did not waste time. After a mere fifteen minutes, two of the demons were eliminated, their cash and chips absorbed into the hands of the other players. Soon after that, the other two players folded, until only Julian and Corbin were left.
“Poker’s not exactly your game, eh?” Corbin said, taking off his glasses for a moment to rub his eyes. “You misled me this afternoon, my friend.”
Julian shrugged, considering his hand. He and Corbin were roughly even. He wished they could stop so he could leave. He looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. Tomorrow at this time, he would say goodbye to Serena. One more day with her. That’s all I have left. Ironically, time, which he’d had in abundance over the course of his existence, was the most valuable thing in the world right now.
Corbin was toying with him, cutting short that time.
“Raise you twenty thousand.” Corbin pitched another few bricks of cash into the middle of the table, where the pot was massing.
“I call. And raise you three hundred grand,” Julian said, upping the ante. He pitched in the money, knowing that when the cash game came to a head with Corbin, the real betting would begin.
Beside Serena, her Assignee’s discontent was brewing as the game continued. Maybe it was obvious from the way Julian looked at her that something had changed.
“Who cares about poker?” Nick muttered as he glowered at Julian. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Not right now,” Serena said, watching the play at the table intently.
Poker normally bored her silly. But the vast sums of money tossed on the table made her breathless and nervous on Julian’s behalf. While all of the other players wore dark glasses, Julian played with nothing to shield his expression. Amidst the clink of the poker chips and the shuffling of the cards, his posture was relaxed, but she sensed his intense concentration on the game.
Corbin slipped off his glasses for a moment, and looked straight at her. Something dark and wicked flashed in his pale gaze. Danger. Lust. Barely contained and ready to explode. She wondered when it would happen, and hoped that she was far away when it did. She shuddered, unable to control the fear that rippled through her. He slipped the glasses on again and returned his attention to the game.
She could no longer bear to watch. Leaning over to Nick, she whispered, “I changed my mind. Let’s take a walk.”
Two burly Gatekeepers trailed after them, no doubt following Julian’s instructions to track their every move.
They stepped into the main area of the casino. Unlike the exclusive atmosphere of the high-stakes room, gamblers from every walk of life teemed around the tables and at the slot machines, come to test their luck on this night as the weekend began.
“I’m worried about you,” Serena said, trying not to sound too matronly. “Everyone’s waiting for you in L.A. so they can continue filming your movie. Why don’t you do the right thing and go back to work?”
But Nick completely ignored her concern. Instead, he said flatly, “You slept with him.”
“Don’t be angry with me, Nick,” she said, knowing there was no point in trying to deny it. “I told you that you and I could never be more than just friends.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “I warned you about him. Serena, that man is pure evil. You made a huge mistake. You could have been with someone who really loved you.” He turned to leave, but not before he paused and said, “You could have been with me.”
“Where are you going?” she called after him.
He didn’t answer, but left her standing there in the middle of the crowds, with the noise of the slot machines beeping all around her. One of the Gatekeepers trailed after him, no doubt going to alert Harry to babysit him once again.
Nick might hate her, but s
he had done her job nonetheless. She had kept him safe.
She checked her watch—it was just past midnight. Tomorrow at this time, she would walk out the front door and leave this debacle behind her. Somehow, she would convince Nick to go with her. She would go back to Los Angeles and resume her life.
She would forget Julian.
I have the strength to do all of that, she knew. All except maybe the last part.
Serena can go to hell, Nick thought as he went up to Corbin’s suite, where Luciana was sipping a drink that matched her eyes and staring blankly out the massive windows. Her boredom vanished in an instant when she saw him.
“You were right about Serena,” he told the dark-haired beauty, collapsing on a chaise longue. He felt like his heart had been torn out. “She chose Julian.”
Luciana came to sit on his lap, smoothed her fingers over his hair. Kissed him so sweetly that he almost forgot about Serena. Trailing a finger down the front of his shirt, she popped open the button of his jeans and whispered against his lips, “Forget about her, mio caro. Tonight, you’re here with me.”
Down in the VIP lounge, Lady Luck was smiling on Julian.
In his hand, the flat faces of four kings stared out blandly. It was an excellent poker hand. Should be enough for me to win, he thought. But it was impossible to anticipate what the other Archdemon held. At this point, the cash meant nothing to him. A little less than six million dollars sat on the table, but all Julian wanted was Serena.
He pushed his remaining pile of cash and chips into the middle of the table. “All in.”
Where Demons Fear to Tread Page 22