by Misty Evans
He snickered and gave me a knowing look. “Who could miss it?”
“There’s a personal agenda here. I’d stake my life on it.”
“Seems like you already did. You may have held back and not killed the supes in the arena, but they were out for your head.”
I’d thought the same. Another reason being thrown in the arena smacked of betrayal. “But were they acting on Marco’s orders or Valentina’s?”
He rubbed my shoulders, gave the good one a squeeze. “Doesn’t matter. You kicked ass, Enforcer.”
“I did, didn’t I?” I smiled, slid off the bed and forced my knee to hold my weight. Better. Stronger. “And I’m about to go kick some more.”
Chapter Twenty
As expected, it took time for the castle’s inhabitants to settle down. Those who weren’t badly injured or who recovered quickly went to work in nearby towns and cities. Those that were still recovering went to their beds or stayed in the infirmary.
Isi was nowhere to be found when I snuck out of our room and to the wing on the west side that faced the lake and harbored the archdemons.
I positioned myself outside of Damon’s room. I’d expected him to seek me out after he finished giving Marco a piece of his mind, but he never showed up. This complicated things since I was too stubborn to reach out to him. So I’d spent the better part of the past four hours stewing, my ego raw. I hated being treated like a pet on a leash and no matter what logical reasons I could come up with for him asking me to fight in the arena, none of them seemed legitimate.
That didn’t mean I was going to leave him unprotected from a certain Kopel demon. I’d seen it in her aura during dinner and afterwards in the arena when she’d gone to Marco’s side. She planned to pay Damon a visit in his dreams. Maybe in the flesh as well.
Darkness blanketed me, allowing me to stand guard in the shadows across from Damon’s door, my shields firmly in place once more. Normally, I would have worried he might sense me there, but he was distracted.
His presence was a powerful one, so powerful I could feel it bleeding through the stones. He paced, sat, paced some more. Seductive magic seeped from his pores along with something else.
Nerves.
A pinch of pity bit deep into my heart. Me, pitying Damon? Absurd. He was a big boy and could take care of himself.
Or could he?
Love and lust did funny things to us. No one, not even demons, were immune to making stupid choices based on them. I, better than anyone, knew this.
A butler arrived with a cart filled with room service…all the plates sporting gold-domed covers, complete with elaborate finial handles. The dinner looked big enough for two. I couldn’t see the label on the bottle of wine that accompanied the meal, but noticed there were two crystal goblets standing guard on either side. You don’t put cheap wine in fine crystal. Not if you’re Damon. And you don’t drink fine wine alone when you have two glasses.
He was expecting her. From the looks of it, her impending arrival would be soon, and he was relishing the idea of serving her food and drink.
Serious stuff for an archdemon. As top of our demon ranks, archdemons serve no one. They snap their fingers and lower-level demons scurry to do their bidding. It’s innate in our blood. They are our gods. We are their servants. For one archdemon to cater to another expressed deep desire. One archdemon feeding another was a mating ritual.
Ew. The image of Damon getting it on with Valentina was the stuff of nightmares to me. She didn’t deserve him. He didn’t deserve to be haunted and tortured by her.
But apparently, that’s what he wanted.
Was I wrong to defend him? Save him from himself?
Most definitely.
I stayed where I was.
When the butler knocked on the heavy wooden door, I sank farther into the shadows and reinforced my mental shields to be sure Damon didn’t detect me lurking. He called to the butler to enter and the male did, hustling the cart inside before I got more than a cursory look.
No Damon in sight, but I did notice the large bed in front of a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the lake. Flickering light to the right suggested a fire was lit. The familiar scent of wood smoke teased my nose, a mix of the burning wood in the fireplace and Damon’s natural smell.
The door closed; an exchange of words happened between my boss and the butler over the food and wine. The wine was uncorked and Damon gave his approval after a sample taste. A few seconds later, the butler left, a smile on his face.
This is none of your business.
I fidgeted, torn between leaving and staying to have my say. He’s a big boy and can make his own decisions.
But he still owed me an explanation.
Hiding in the shadows wasn’t my style anyway. I stepped across the hall and raised a hand to knock…and the weight of Kopel magic hit me like an iron beam.
Valentina’s voice was hot coals on the back of my neck. “What are you doing here?”
Bracing, I faced her, putting my back toward Damon’s door. I started to say, “I could ask you the same” but the female in me came to life with an unexpected ferociousness I couldn’t explain. Words flew out of my mouth with no aforethought. “He invited me for dinner.”
Her brow knitted in confusion. “To talk battle strategy and gloat over your win today?”
Again the female in me rose to the challenge. I gave a giggle worthy of Isi and felt Damon’s presence shift to the other side of the door. “Battle strategy? I don’t think that’s what he has in mind for us tonight.” I cocked my head as if a thought had just dawned on me. “You don’t know do you?”
I hated it when people said that to me. My guess that Valentina would hate it as well was accurate.
“Know what?” she ground out.
Damon’s magic enveloped me. His mind reached out to mine, hit the shields and promptly broke through them. What are you doing?
Give me a minute. Out loud, I spoke to Valentina, “Look, I know you were hoping to renew your relationship with Damon during this visit, but if you’re planning on screwing him over like you did before, I have to warn you. Marco gets wind of what you’re up to? He’ll be looking for blood. And if he’s the jealous type—which we both know he is—he’ll be out for Damon’s blood.”
Her inky-black eyes flashed green. I’d hit the nail on the head. But there was more to it than making her current lover jealous of her ex-lover. “And?” she prompted, killing me with her eyes.
This new talent for reading auras really came in handy. “And your plan to have the two of them take each other out in the process isn’t going to happen.”
She gave a tiny, startled gasp. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Right. I leaned against the door in a nonchalant pose. “Well, let me clear it up for you. You or Marco, either one, come after my boss or attempt to hurt him in any way, waking or asleep, I’ll cut you open and feed your own intestines to you for breakfast.”
Damon’s magic sucked in and released slowly, as if he were containing his aggravation only by the tips of his fingers.
He didn’t like me blowing date night? Tough.
I felt him reach for the door knob. Don’t you dare interrupt us, I ordered, grabbing the handle on the other side and holding firm. I hoped it look like I was done talking to Valentina and heading in for a night of debauchery with Damon.
At least the done talking part was accurate. “You know I can do it, Val. Think hard about your choices right now. I strongly recommend you walk away and head back to whatever hole you crawled out of. Take Marco with you. I owe him a beat-down for manhandling me earlier.”
With that, I left her standing in the hallway with her mouth open, pushing my way into Damon’s chambers with a big smile on my face. “Hello, lover boy,” I said loud and clear, throwing my arms around Damon’s neck and kicking the door shut with my foot.
My boss was stone under my hands, his dark eyes bearing down on me and his aura crackling with irrit
ation. He started to speak, but I put a finger to his lips. “You can thank me later,” I whispered.
I slunk back to the door, put an ear against it and listened. Valentina’s floor-length dress made soft swishing noises as she turned on her heel and headed off in the direction of Marco’s room. Her night-air magic went with her.
Mission accomplished.
My satisfaction was short-lived as I turned to Damon and saw the storm cloud on his face. “You ambuscade my dinner guest and undermine our professional relationship with a counterfeit flirtation?”
Ambuscade? Seriously? “I’m not sure exactly what you said there, but I think the answer is yes. I ambushed—modern day term you may not be familiar with—your guest, who wanted to do you harm, and I pretended to have a personal relationship with you to make her jealous and send her on her Kopel demon way. To top it off, I threatened to rip out her intestines and feed them back to her for breakfast if she or Marco hurt you. Check, check and check, boss. My job here is done.”
His scowl deepened. “I’m capable of fending for myself.”
Ah, love. Makes us stupidly brave. “Not against her. I saw it in your aura from the moment we landed. You hate her, but you still want her.”
Making a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, he curled a lip at me. “You take liberties where you have no right. This is a complicated matter, one which you’ll never understand.”
“Oh, I understand. She’s with Marco now, but she’d love to have you and Marco act like Neanderthals and fight over her. That’s what happened before, isn’t it? She pitted you against your best friend and he won. What I don’t understand is why either of you are interested in a nightmare.”
He paced away from me and I gave him the space. Damon saw fit to be pissed at me on a regular basis. Nothing new there. But I’d never seen him hung up on any female except his wife, Zandra, and while it might have been wrong of me to interfere in his love life, I didn’t give a shit. He regularly interfered with mine.
Friends didn’t let friends jump off cliffs. “You and Val hook up before Zandra?”
His chest heaved as he drew a deep breath. Absently, he glanced at his ring finger, the gold band that had once graced it long gone, at least in physical presence. Its ghost, like his dead wife, still lingered.
Damon was a Psukhe demon, one that lived and fed on the psyche. In Greek, psukhe meant breath, life, soul. Although Zandra had been nearly all human—a tiny amount of demon blood in her system had been repressed—she’d been Damon’s psukhe, his breath, life and soul.
She’d lived a long life by human standards, but her death had nearly done him in. I’d never thought much about the fact Damon had lived far longer than Zandra or me…it made sense he’d been around the demon block with other females before and probably after Z. I just hadn’t known of any. At least until the past day. Now I knew about Nyx and Val.
I’d never given Damon’s love life much thought. On several occasions he’d made it clear he considered me a potential bedmate, but we were so not going there. I respected and cared about him—and he was incredibly sexy—but my heart was Grinch-sized and apparently loved only one man. A man Damon had strong misgivings about.
He didn’t answer my question and that silence told me what I needed to know. “Val’s your Achilles heel, isn’t she? That’s the real reason we came here. So you could see her.”
He turned on me, righteous fury pinching his handsome face. “I never place personal reasons above our mission.”
“I would.” Being a demon might have given us superior abilities, but our vices also gave us significant weaknesses and I accepted that. In matters of the heart, demons were no better at love than humans. “Just because you’re head of the North American Bridge Council doesn’t mean you’re a saint.”
The fury lessoned. He rubbed his forehead and his shoulders slouched. “The personal and professional are tied together, I’m afraid.”
At first I didn’t get it. Then a couple of brain cells clicked together. I pointed at the room service, which smelled absolutely divine and made my stomach growl. Fighting off a hundred or so demons by yourself can make a demon hungry. “Wine her and dine her and see if she spills company secrets? Don’t you already know all there is to know about this place?”
His gaze met mine and my brain warmed. Best not to speak of this out loud.
I sat up straight and eyed the door. She’s back? Listening to us?
Wouldn’t you be?
Touché. I can pop her eardrums.
Ignoring me with a frustrated shake of his head, he sauntered to the table and poured the wine, handed a glass to me and sat in the chair across from mine. “Salute, amore mio.”
My treasure. Uh, huh. More like his hired gun. Well played, boss.
We need to play this well, Kali. He winked, egging me to go along.
Being Italian, I’ve drank my share of wines. I like ’em red, rich and bold. The variety Damon had picked was all three. If she’s listening, let’s give her a real show. “Salute, caro mio.”
One of his gorgeous eyebrows rose seductively. What do you suggest?
Making Val believe I was Damon’s latest conquest wouldn’t be that hard after my jealous performance outside his door.
I set down the glass, crawled into his lap as he was taking a sip, and kissed him on the neck. “Did you like my show tonight?” I murmured against his skin. “In the arena?”
The shock on his face was priceless. Whether it was the kiss or the seductive tone of my voice, he choked. After another sip, he recovered quickly, running a hand along the top of my thigh-high boot. “Nothing turns me on more than watching you in action.”
For once he sounded like he lived in modern-day America. I almost smiled, but then my breath caught. In his eyes was a kernel of truth that matched his words and his massaging hand. My pulse quickened.
Shifting in his lap, I started to stand, but he grabbed my leg and held me in place. Under my butt, I felt the hard press of something very male. Very archdemon.
Momma mia. I stopped squirming. That would only make it worse. Mentally reaching for safer ground, I came up mute, but pissing him off would wipe that look off his face. You used me like a trained seal to show off to your friends.
Setting down his own wine glass, he kept a hand on me. And now I’m going to use you to make my former lover jealous. Wasn’t that your plan?
His other hand went around the back of my head to keep me from escaping his lips. As he brought our faces together, his hooded gaze never left mine. His lips were firm and unyielding as he kissed me into a type of submission. If I fought, Val would hear it, so I acquiesced.
It was torture, I tell you. Pure torture that I melted under. His warm lips offered magic and something more. A promise. This is just a game, I reminded myself. Only an act.
Is it? His voice countered.
I was so startled, my magic snapped out of me with the force of a bull, attempting to shove him away. His magic was stronger than mine and it was prepared for my knee-jerk reaction. It blocked my whipsaw retort and blanketed it, once again pulling me under his spell.
Attempting to rein in my magic, I lost control of it, and it shot off around the room. The glasses shattered into a mess of blood-like puddles of wine. The fire in the fireplace geysered, shooting sparks all over the hearth and an expensive Persian rug.
Damon released me, a sly smile on his face. I scrambled off his lap, lips and magic tingling, and nearly landed on my ass in the process.
“You didn’t even set your demon loose, Kali. I was a little disappointed. You know how that turns me on.”
Huh? I blinked, trying to clear my head. My legs shook. Wisps of smoke rose from various spots of burnt carpet. A dozen sconces around the room vibrated against the walls like an earthquake’s aftershock. My voice came out sounding similarly. “I didn’t need her.”
He appeared amused. “Your injuries are healed properly?” His aura was bright with desire.
“Yes.”
“Good. I want you in peak condition when I take you to bed. Otherwise you may not survive.”
He winked. I backed away, studying his face, his aura, his mind. Nothing suggested he was in any way kidding.
But he had to be. He was feeding me a dose of my own medicine.
Hardy, har, har. Relief washed through me. Relief so profound, I almost collapsed.
Instead, I called up my earlier indignation over the fight. Time to address that little situation.
Why did you do it? Send me to face Marco’s army like that? What were you trying to prove?
Avoiding the question, Kali?
Damn straight, I was. Taking a stabilizing breath, I squared my shoulders. My demon got ornery. I’d started this stupid charade, and by god, I’d finish it. “My wounds are healed and I can handle anything you dish out, lover.”
I stroked Volante and raised my brows in a challenging gesture. Touch me and your stones will never be the same.
To my dismay he laughed. The bastard was enjoying this. Is that how you seduce the Chaos demon? By threatening his manhood?
Rad. My heart twinged. I missed him and I hated myself for it. Reining in those emotions, I narrowed my eyes in answer. No way was I bringing Rad into this fight. “I could use some protein before our…lovemaking.” I could also use some insight into what the hell we’re doing here if you’re not hooking up with Val. “Will you feed me, archdemon?”
A mental chuckle echoed the previous verbal one. He gave me a nod, desire still present in his eyes. “It will be my pleasure.”
Exactly what I was afraid of.
Chapter Twenty-one
I could diagram my entire history through my three-hundred years of earthly existence, all based on being a vengeance demon born in Italy in the eighteenth century. Parallel lines of time and place running alongside demons like Cole and Damon. Black holes of evil miring me in magic quicksand with Maria. Spirals of behavior and choices—such as those with Rad—that had taken me away from my goals, only to circle me back around to them.