Red Rain: Book 4, Night Series

by RS Black

  Popping the boy’s nose with the tip of my finger, I made my way onto the dance floor. Tonight was about getting noticed.

  I felt the eyes of all of them looking at me hungrily as I moved to the center of the dance floor, close to the DJ’s booth. I didn’t want to dance with anyone; I wanted to be the show.

  I’d only worn a white bra, panties, stockings, and heels tonight. This getup alone would have done the job, but I needed to be irresistible—I needed to be bait.

  So I closed my eyes, rolled my hips, lifted my arms in the air and swayed to the beat as everyone watched me.

  And I watched them too, beneath my eyelashes, pretending to smile, to laugh, to move as if I cared about nothing and no one. I pouted my lips, winked at the DJ as I inhaled her scent and smiled even wider when I realized she was only a were-panther and nothing more.

  Tonight might even be fun.

  Running my hands through my hair, I let the silken strands slide through my fingers, actually beginning to enjoy myself. The partygoers started to move in tentatively at first, as if unsure whether they should intrude on the show. But I didn’t mind; I was losing myself in the music.

  Remembering another time, another place.

  I ran my hands across my soft belly, up my arms, rolling my neck slowly from side to side, imagining that these hands weren’t mine, but Asher’s.

  That the fingers weren’t small, but broad and roughened by calluses. That his warmth invaded me, penetrated me.

  I gasped when a real pair of hands joined my own.

  But they didn’t belong to Asher.

  Abdul smiled down at me, attempting to infect my mind with his sex poison. Beneath the mask the incubi weren’t a beautiful species. They were grotesque. I could see Abdul for who he truly was. The flesh that looked as if it’d been dipped in a vat of acid. The vacant eye sockets, the flattened nose that was little more than slits.

  I smiled, pretending to fall under his spell, and turned off my ability to see beneath the mask. And for just a second, foolish as it was, I danced with him.

  Moved into him.

  Not because I wanted him.

  Or maybe I did.

  Because his hands were so big and warm and right now he wasn’t wanting anything in return from me other than to dance. To move with me.

  So I dragged my hands down his chest and moved on him, grinding my center on his, causing his pupils to dilate. Making him aware that I was so much more than what I appeared.

  His bottom lips shook when he stared down at his cockstand.

  “Who are you?”

  Leaning up on tiptoe, I nuzzled the corner of his neck where it met his ear and whispered, “I’m Lust, Abdul, and I want to dance.”

  “Nephilim,” he breathed, his lips feathering the corner of my cheek. “I’ve never tasted one of you before.”

  Clicking my tongue, I wagged a finger beneath his nose and smiled broadly. “You don’t know what you’ve been missing, incubus. I’m going to make your wildest dreams come true.”

  He yanked me into him, but I merely laughed. Incubi could be so darn impatient.

  I was so sick of my cell in that compound. Sick of Dean and Dick. I didn’t want to go back there. Not for a while, anyway. Once I killed Abdul the magic sustaining this oasis would vanish come morning.

  All I wanted was to remain here forever and remember what it felt like to be alive.

  So I pushed him back, but I wasn’t pushing him away. I grabbed his hands, turned my back to him, and swiveled my hips into his cock.

  He smelled of musk, and cologne, and of hot, sweaty sex.

  The crowd was fired up, yelling and laughing, and for a split second, I was happy. Because I wasn’t dancing with Abdul, I was with Asher, and it wasn’t a demon with his hands on my hips, but my Priest.

  Abdul wasn’t kissing my collarbone; it was Ash. Asher running his hand up my bare forearm, Asher making me feel this alive, this desired.

  “Asher,” I whimpered.

  “Who?” he grunted.

  I opened my eyes.

  This wasn’t Asher, never would be again. I sealed up the fissure that’d begun to break open inside me, fixed my game face on, and twirled on the incubus.

  “Take me somewhere private.”

  He cocked his head, his warm brown eyes twinkling. “You, a Neph, shy?”

  He leaned in, trying to steal a kiss, but I pulled away a fraction of an inch and gave him a flirty grin. “Call it a quirk.”

  The light that’d been dancing in his eyes began to dim as his gave me a wary look.

  Wrapping a leg around him, I yanked him by his collar while tipping his jaw up, exposing his neck, and gave him a slow, kittenish lick from his neck to his lips, biting down on his bottom one to just within an inch of pain.

  He gasped out, body trembling beneath my touch.

  “Tell me, demon,” I whispered into his mouth, “you’re not curious about the magic the two of us will create.”

  And then I let her out, let Lust shine through my eyes, turning them from a silvery twilight to jeweled indigo.

  His breathing became short and choppy.

  I was catnip for an incubus. An unlimited feast with more juice than any mortal could ever offer.

  In short, he’d never turn me down.

  I had all the power and he knew it.

  “Fine,” he agreed with a greedy nod and grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”

  When I turned there was a tent where one hadn’t been before. One made of multicolored silks that billowed gently in the dry breeze. Everyone was so high that no one even batted an eyelash at something so unusual suddenly appearing as it had.

  No sooner had I stepped through the flap then I was shoved against a pillar and Abdul’s heavy forearm was pressed into my throat. His eyes blazed with orange fire.

  “How did you find me!”

  The beautiful face was no less glorious as it shifted into a mask of demonic fury.

  He only thought me an average Nephilim. He had no idea who I really was. So I gasped and clutched at his arm, shaking my head and letting terror fill my eyes.

  I choked out, “Need sex.”

  Disdain curled his lips. “Don’t we all. Now”—he shoved his arm in just a little bit tighter. “How. Did. You. Find. Me?” The final word sprayed my face with spittle.

  I was going to enjoy killing this one.

  “Heard about the—”

  He shoved his face into mine, until I almost had to cross my eyes to keep him in focus. “Everyone here I’ve invited. I never invited you. No one talks. No one leaves. Which tells me one thing. You’re here for the map.”

  Jig’s up.

  Dropping the helpless damsel in distress shtick I shoved him off me. Abdul stumbled back, looking at me with wide, shocked eyes. “Who...who—”

  Rolling my eyes, I dropped a knee into his stomach hard enough to make him expel a heavy breath. Then it was my turn to shove my fist into his throat, squeezing until his pupils dilated.

  “Just give me the map, loser.”

  His lips were turning a bluish tint. I really couldn’t understand why I was manhandling Abdul so easily. I mean, granted, I was stronger, but jeez, this was ridiculously easy. Ivan had nearly ripped my arms off.

  “God, you’re pathetic,” I snarled when his lashes began to flutter. Easing up on his windpipe just a tad, I sighed when he gasped for breath. “Map. Now. My patience is wearing thin.”

  He laughed.

  Not exactly the reaction I’d expected. It was a high-pitched, crazed sound.

  “If you’ve gotten to me, that means you’ve taken down Ivan.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “And?”

  “It means I’m dead either way and I’ve waited too fucking long for a taste of the good stuff.”

  “Oh, if you think for a second I was serious, yeah, no. Hell. No.” I shook my head. “This thing”—I gripped his testicles and squeezed until he howled, but it was definitely not a howl of pain—“does absolut
ely nothing for me. Give me the map, and I might let you walk away tonight.”

  His smirk was pure seduction.

  So maybe the FF had been smart when they’d cherry-picked cock boy here, because he was seriously beginning to annoy me.

  I extended my nails into claws and pierced through the flimsy scrap of fabric he called clothes, puncturing his little princely jewels.

  He purred as his blood trickled down my fingers.

  “You are seriously sick,” I snarled. “This is supposed to hurt, jackass.”

  Rolling laughter vibrated through his chest. “So says Lust. Glass houses, princess. And you want to know where the map’s at, you’re hanging onto it”

  On his dick?

  That was sick and perverted and so totally an incubus thing to do.

  I went to rip his pants off, but he stilled my hand with his.

  “It’s not on my dick, nor is it tattooed on my sack. You want the map, you have to feed me.”

  It took me a second to figure out what he meant and when I did I closed my eyes in disgust.

  I was so not having sex with that thing.

  Horny as Lust was, and oh boy was she a raging ball of need, you never, ever willingly slept with an incubus. I might be relatively immortal, but if I fused my body to his there’d be no unfusing us; I could never kill him without killing myself. Because any damage he took my body would instantly heal.

  In short, I was in a bit of a pickle here.

  His need combined with Lust’s already potent sex drive would turn me into a nympho in heels before you could finish saying supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

  His hands gripped my waist and yanked me down, until my legs straddled him and his cock was perilously close to my goody hole.

  Taking a second to distract him, so that I could work out the final kinks in my plan, I said, “Why in the hell are you betraying your masters like this? Giving me the key? Willingly?”

  His nails dug into my spine, and I hated to admit that it felt good. But dammit, he was an incubus and that was their sole purpose in life—to make everything feel good. I gasped, skin crawling with both revulsion and need.

  “Because I’m dead before the night is through anyway.”

  I shifted on his lap, groaning as he rubbed against my sudden wetness. It totally sucked to have my body betray me in this way, but I’d put Lust in control tonight and, well, she was done playing the saint.

  She wanted to be fed and she really didn’t give a damn who did it.

  What a whore.

  “You’re a temptation I could never have resisted, and they know it. I will give you the key; in exchange you give me your body.” His voice was a deep purr.

  Killed by freaking lust. Who’d have thunk it?

  Much as I hated Dean, I really could have used a little timely intervention just now.

  Mind a whirl of fog that had nothing at all to do with his magic, I yanked my claws out of his testicles and ripped them down the front of his shirt, exposing his chest.

  “I’m gonna make you give me that map, and I’m even gonna give you the best orgasm of your miserable existence, but you will never own my body, you sick freak.”

  He mumbled something incoherent and then latched his lips like a suction device onto my neck. I’d hickey up for sure, but I couldn’t help from curving my spine into him, from groaning as my body lit up like a firecracker and the world spun out of control.

  I had to end this fast or I was gonna forget how dangerous it was to have sex with this thing.

  Growling, I shoved his face off me and slid down his body, until I could grip his nipples between my teeth, rolling them so hard that I bled him a little.

  He howled, shuddering, his cock so hard it drove like a spear into my ass. Thank God I’d worn underwear tonight; that thin barrier was all that was going to save me now. I wiggled my hips and pumped him full of so much Lust that a mortal man would have died from it.

  “Nephilim, you will kill me,” he moaned, writhing beneath me, rubbing his cock so hard and so fast against me that he’d have friction burns for sure.

  I hated that it felt good. That it stole the breath from my lungs. But I remembered this feeling, this need, remembered how Asher would shove so far and so deep inside me that it felt I’d witnessed eternity.

  The beauty of Ash’s and my lovemaking compared to this was light years apart, but my body craved it and the floodgates had been thrown wide.

  Lust cried out inside me. Metaphorically the little whore was gripping Abdul’s dark, twisted soul and screwing his brains out. My own breathing hitched, because though we weren’t united by flesh, I felt the tidal wave of Lust’s orgasm began to roll through me.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes,” he screamed.

  The sound of his voice broke into my thoughts, forcing me to glance down at him, and I was shocked to see it wasn’t the magnificent creature who I held thralled, but the nightmare. I’d exposed the incubus for what it really was. For the first time the tables had been turned and it wasn’t the demon stealing the life from my body; rather, I was stealing his from him.

  Blood leaked from his eyes, his nose, from the corners of his mouth. He bucked and writhed and his face twisted up in pain and agony and euphoric delight.

  But his magic mingled with my own, and I couldn’t stop my orgasm, couldn’t stop Lust’s driving need to take it all. I jerked to the side when it finally ripped through me, the blackness of that little death that stole the breath from my lungs and the life from Abdul.

  He released his seed in one final glorious spurt and then closed his eyes, nothing now but a grotesquely desiccated husk.

  I shoved my hands against him and jumped to my feet as black markings rolled across his papery skin. The coordinates to the next keeper.

  There was only one final step.

  I swallowed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as disgust roiled through my belly.

  I’d given him a good death.

  For an incubus, anyway. I’d let him leave this world on his own terms. So why did I want to vomit? I hadn’t had to torture him. I’d gotten what I’d needed easily.

  I closed my eyes.

  What would Asher think of me now?

  Clenching my jaw, I shoved him away. “Stop thinking about that, Dora. It’s over. It’s over.” I looked at what had once been Abdul and with a snarl, I shoved my fist through his chest, nicking his soul with a claw and whispering for it to come into me.

  I screamed out in agony as the heavy weight of his sins became my own, as the tens of thousands of dead cried for vengeance and shrieked their hatred at me.

  I dropped to my knees, spine bowed and forehead pressed tight to the Persian rug beneath me in agony as that dark and twisted soul pumped me full of more power.

  Drowning in lust, I cried out as my body ached with want and need, lust stretched and filled me to the point of agony. I was sure that this time I’d taken one too many, that Abdul had been the proverbial straw. But just as I was ready to claw my eyes out from the pain, it all bled away, until I could breathe again.

  Covered in a sheen of sweat from head to toe, I quaveringly made my way to my feet. I’d lost my heels at some point. But it didn’t matter. I had to get out of here before Asher arrived. I couldn’t let him see me this way.

  It sucked that it still mattered to me. I was becoming the Scarlet Woman. The key to unlocking Armageddon, I was an abomination.

  But I was still desperately, miserably in love with a man who’d probably kill me if he saw what I’d just done.

  I shoved the tent flap aside angrily, taking a step back into the lush decadence of an incubus rave, when I smelled him.

  His dark seduction curled around me.

  Lust had just orgasmed so violently I was still reeling from it, but this was Asher, and he would always be our catnip.

  He grabbed my wrist ruthlessly, causing me to stumble as I joined him on the dance floor.

  His eyes were mercurial and alive with fury, his nos
trils flaring.

  I knew he smelled it.

  “Let me go, Ash.”

  “No.” He yanked me into his arms and though I felt his muscles rigid with rage, I also smelled his need.

  His brown hair hung in disarray around his face, his full lips thinning with fury. He was dressed in slacks and nothing else—clearly he’d gotten the memo about “less is more” for this shindig.

  God, he looked so yummy. I wanted to fling myself at him, drown in his taste, his touch, and yes, even his violence. I wanted everything this man had to offer me. If not love, then hate.

  I didn’t know what I’d expected, but I hadn’t expected him to wrap my arms around his neck, hadn’t expected him to rub his nose along my neck, or to feel his hot, hard length stab me in the belly.

  I was still short. I was still Asian.

  “How did you recognize me?”

  He snarled. “Because you’re mine. And you’ll always be mine. Now dance with me.”

  I shook my head. But he wouldn’t let me go. “Asher, please.”

  “No, you don’t get to beg me. You don’t get to do anything other than what I tell you to do. You’re not this, Pandora. You’re not this! Do you hear me?”

  And even as he moved me, as he swayed in time to the driving rhythms of liquid sex, I felt his hate burn through me.

  Asher was starting to hate me.

  I dug my nails into his neck, wanting to shove him away and crawl inside of him all at the same time. I didn’t want him to hate me, but I needed him to.

  He was a natural dancer. And I remembered. I remembered us dancing in Sanguinary, remembered how I’d realized that very night that I was completely in love with him. Even knowing that someday he might kill me.

  He couldn’t kill me now.

  Not physically, anyway.

  But his hands were hot and they were so right, they were rubbing my back, and he smelled so amazing. This was Asher. Not a vision. Not my imagination. And not Abdul.

  This was him.

  My Ash.

  The only man I could ever love. Would ever love.

  I moaned when a body bumped into me from behind, causing me to rub even harder against Ash. I didn’t mean to close my eyes, and yet, somehow, I did.