“Maybe if you give me a kiss for luck,” I teased. Edmund’s cheeks turned pink before he leaned in, pressing his mouth against mine. I danced my fingers higher. My thumb slipped into the slit in his dress, but I explored no more.
The last time we had kissed, I had been drinking. As much as I had enjoyed the press of Edmund’s mouth against mine in the club only a few days ago, it wasn’t the same as now.
The scent of him wrapped around me. My body began to harden from the taste of him.
Edmund pulled back. I smiled. He bowed his head, looking into his empty glass as his cheeks still burned a soft rose. I lifted my hand and brushed my fingers against the stain. He was so lovely.
“Gross,” Grey whined. I ignored him and flipped my first card, my second card, my third, fourth, fifth, and six. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
“Go ahead,” I told Edmund, pulling my hand away. There were three aces on the table. If my last card turned up lucky, chances were I would win. Was I that lucky tonight?
Reaching out, Edmund touched the card with his fingertips and swallowed hard.
He didn’t have a clue what was going on—or maybe he did. I had been explaining the game as we’d progressed. Did he know the game could be won by the flip of a single card? I pressed my hand deeper into the slit of his dress, and Edmund flipped the card.
Grey groaned, shoving his cards away. He was out of this round, I assumed.
“That’s good, right?” Edmund asked. “You won, right? Or . . . we have to wait for the last person?” He glanced to the last man who had turned not a single card.
“I don’t think he’s beating that,” Grey said, almost sullenly. He should have known the game was never won until the last card was turned. But I supposed he’d been playing poker long enough to know when to get out of the game too.
I tossed four black chips into the pile—four hundred dollars.
Everyone looked at the man to my side even though they didn’t throw in a chip.
Nor did he. Instead, he pushed his hand away.
“You really are a good luck charm,” I teased Edmund as the dealer pushed me my winnings.
“Yay!” Edmund exclaimed, throwing his arms around my neck. He pressed his lips against mine, and I grasped the back of his neck, holding him there, wanting so badly to sip from his mouth the same way he had sipped from the flute he still held, but I released him before my body could respond any more than it already had. Later, I would kiss him more. Maybe I would coax my name from his lips again.
“Should we play another hand?” I asked him.
“Yeah,” he replied, adjusting himself on my lap. I tightened my grip on his thigh. His cheeks turned a darker shade of red, but he said, “I think I’m starting to understand.”
The dealer passed out cards, giving everyone seven once more.
“If only Cassius was here,” I said, my gaze slipping around the group. Grey’s eyes traveled across the table too, looking for anyone who might recognize the name.
“Ruda would be cheating if he was here,” Grey mentioned.
No one seemed to stir at the mention of Cassius’s name. Maybe this table was a bust. I would play this hand and maybe another before moving to a new group.
It would probably be best for Grey to do the same.
We weren’t here for pleasure after all.
Edmund
Anselm stayed at the table with Grey, but he had given me some chips. I walked around looking at the different tables and games. I didn’t know how to play most of them, but some seemed fun enough. Others looked silly.
There was one table that had a bunch of people gathered around it. They called a number or a color—red or black—before the croupier spun a wheel sitting in the middle of the table. A ball bounced around inside before landing on a numbered color. If someone had guessed the right number or color the ball landed on, they were paid and the game continued. I watched for a moment, not understanding the game or what was going on as well as I would have liked before turning away from the table.
“Whoa.” I paused mid-step, almost stumbling into the tallest man I’d ever seen in my life.
He paused in front of me with a smile playing at his lips. “Hello, pretty kitty. I haven’t seen you around.” His voice was deep and smooth. There was something about him that reminded me of the way vampires worked, something magnetic in his character designed to charm and lure you in—make you unable to resist him.
“Hi,” I said. I thought Anselm made me feel like a little person, but I bet even Anselm would have felt short next to this guy. “How tall are you?” I asked, unable to help myself. I guessed I was happy I wasn’t in my cat form. He would be more like a tree, and I was much too lazy to climb.
“How about we find somewhere quiet to talk and I tell you?” the giant asked.
I wondered if he was Cassius. Anselm said I would know him as soon as I saw him, that he stood out in a crowd—more like stood over a crowd.
“All right,” I agreed.
He turned on his heels, his fingers pressing against my back. “This way,” the man whispered, his lips at my ear. I allowed him to guide me through a thick curtain where there were more rooms. He seemed to pick one at random, opening the door and waiting for me to step inside. It was only after the door was closed that I wondered if I’d made a mistake.
My heart started to race as the man moved closer, his fingers tracing my jawline.
“You’re . . . Cassius, right?” I asked, hearing the nervous pitch to my voice.
The man snorted, his gaze moving over me. “Hardly. He knows better than to come around my establishments. Why are you looking for the dark witch, little one? He the one who cursed you?” As he spoke, the stranger was kneading my ear in the way that Anselm often did.
“No. It was a woman who cursed . . . wait—you know I was cursed?” I paused, looking up at him. How could he know? Was he a witch as well? Could he help us?
“You smell of it—the taint of dark magic. It’s weak, growing weaker by the day I imagine, but still there, lingering,” he told me, and I supposed that was what I was scared of. The curse was growing weaker. Did that mean one day I would become human again, that my time with Anselm would be cut short? I didn’t want that.
Licking my lips, I looked up at him. “I was cursed a long time ago. The witch who did it died recently. I need Cassius to re-curse me,” I explained, not understanding why I felt the need to confide in this man. Something about him was . . . different. I couldn’t help myself.
“You want to be a kitty again?” he asked. His mouth touched my neck. I inhaled sharply. His lips were hot and warm—soft against my flesh. It made it hard to think, but not in the same way that Anselm’s touch did. I wasn’t overcome with the same rush of desire for this stranger as I was for Anselm whenever he pressed his mouth against my body.
“I want to stay with Anselm,” I whispered.
If I had to be a kitty to do that, I would make that sacrifice.
“Have you ever made a deal with a demon?” the stranger asked me, parting the fabric of my dress and moving between my thighs. I only shook my head. I’d never made a deal with anyone. I didn’t think I’d ever met a demon before either.
Was this stranger a demon? He wasn’t a vampire or a dark witch.
“I’ll ensure you stay with this Anselm of yours. And in return, you owe me.”
“What would I have to do?” I asked, looking up at him.
“A favor, whatever I ask of you, whenever I ask it of you,” he said, his gaze burning into mine as he pressed his hand higher, moving towards my. . .
“I can live forever?” I asked. “So Anselm doesn’t ever have to be alone again?” My heart pounded against my ribcage. He was so close to touching me. Would he? What would Anselm think if this stranger touched me? Would he be mad? I didn’t want him to be upset with me. But . . . I couldn’t seem to push the stranger away. I didn’t want him to touch me, but I didn’t not want him to touch me eit
her.
“Is that what you wish—to live forever?” he asked. I felt as if that was a loaded question.
“I . . . I want to live forever. So I can be with Anselm. He’s a vampire, and he gets really depressed sometimes. He needs me. And I need him. I . . . I love him,” I whispered, feeling a bit silly for saying it out loud. It was true, though. I loved Anselm.
“So be it then—a lifetime with your Anselm and a favor for me,” the stranger said. I swallowed and nodded in agreement. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and my eyes widened. Something hot coursed through me. My body tightened. My lungs burned along with my lips. It felt as if I had been hit by lightning when he finally pulled back.
The stranger reached out and stroked my cheek as he smiled.
“Such a pretty kitty,” he muttered. “Remember, you owe me.”
I swallowed again and nodded. “What’s your name?” I asked.
If I owed him, I should at least know his name.
“Abbadon. Abbadon Starling,” he answered, stepping back.
“Thank you, Abbadon,” I said.
For some reason, I felt like I could trust him even though he was clearly a demon.
“Run along, kitty. Enjoy your night.” He kneaded my ear one last time before I escaped through the door and back into the hallway. No one was around. All the other doors were shut, but I could hear voices behind them.
Were there more demons making deals with desperate people just out of sight?
I rushed forward, wanting to leave the hallway. When I stepped out from behind the curtain, Anselm was there.
“Edmund. Are you okay? Where did you get off to?” he asked, cupping my face.
“I thought I found Cassius,” I explained, and Anselm frowned.
“Cassius would never come here,” Grey said from behind him.
“You said I would know him when I saw him. And I saw this guy. He was stupid tall,” I said, holding my hands over my head. I was trying to show Anselm how tall he was, but even I couldn’t do it justice. “He was probably the tallest person I’ve ever seen.”
“We should go,” Grey said, his voice serious.
“Someone you owe money to, old friend?” Anselm teased.
“The demon I warned you about,” Grey explained.
“Why do you always do this to me?” Anselm complained before grasping my hand and pulling me forward, further away from the curtains.
“Wait. He’s not mad or anything. He was really nice. In fact, we don’t need to find Cassius anymore,” I said, digging in my heels to keep from being pulled forward.
Anselm and Grey stopped to look at me.
“What did you do, Edmund?” Anselm asked. There was a hit of worry in his voice.
“We made a deal,” I answered.
“I know you were a cat for a while, but you can’t be that stupid,” Grey snapped.
“Please tell me you’re kidding,” Anselm begged as he stepped towards me.
I shook my head. “I can live forever now. We don’t have to worry about either of us ever being alone again. That’s what we wanted, right? It’s . . . it’s what I wanted,” I said, wondering if I was being selfish.
Anselm wanted a pet cat forever. I didn’t know if he wanted me the way I was. But he’d said he wanted me with him forever as a man or a cat not long ago. So this was okay, right?
“Oh, Edmund.” He shook his head, brushing his lips against mine. “Let’s get you home,” Anselm said, and I wondered if I had done something wrong.
Maybe I shouldn’t have made the deal?
“Wait,” Grey called, and Anselm stopped. “What did Abbadon ask for?”
Anselm looked at me, waiting as though he was wondering the same thing.
“A favor,” I answered. They both waited, but I shrugged. “He just said I owe him a favor.”
I didn’t know what that favor was. Maybe he didn’t know yet either? I only knew one day he would pop up, and I would owe him a solid.
“Great! Let’s cash out and fuck off while we still can,” Grey said, walking away.
I looked at Anselm, trying to gauge his reaction to all of this.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, wondering if it had been a mistake coming here, or if I should have talked to him before I’d made my deal with a demon.
I wondered if Anselm was upset with me.
“No,” he assured me. “It was your choice. It has always been your choice.”
I grabbed his hand, lacing our fingers together as I peered up at him. “I want to stay with you. And I want to be a man when I do that. Is that okay?”
“I told you before I want you with me—as a cat, as a man—but deals with demons don’t always go the way you hope,” Anselm said before pulling me along behind him.
Would Abbadon betray me? Even after we’d made our deal? Would it be years away when the deal came back to bite me in the ass?
My head fell, and my tail stopped swinging. I hoped the demon wouldn’t offer me this happiness only to yank it away, but Grey and Anselm seemed sure I’d just signed away our future. I could feel something swelling in my chest, and I didn’t want to cry, but if I had to live forever without Anselm . . . I wasn’t sure I could do that.
Feeling the emotions swelling inside of me, I wished I were a cat so then no one could see my tears. And just like that, a tingle ran through my body; the world swayed, and I was a cat again.
Anselm
The apartment was dark, black as an endless abyss, even though I knew outside, the sun was high in the sky, shining brightly as noon approached. My mind was restless, wandering from one thought to another, and in turn, my body was as well.
I paced the apartment, thinking about the demon Edmund had made a deal with.
Abbadon Starling. It was a name often whispered in the underground. I had heard his name from time to time since my rebirth, even though I tried to stay out of the circles he moved through.
In England some two hundred or so years ago now, he’d been popular among the aristocrats. The lords had thrown money at him. The ladies had thrown themselves at him. He’d danced in the light and dabbled in the dark. Everyone had loved him—kings, queens, lords, and ladies alike.
He had owned a series of underground clubs that were popular among anyone looking to have a good time. Everyone had been welcome so long as they’d had the coins to spare. No doubt, I had probably played in one or two of his establishments before. Now, apparently, he owned clubs in New Synergy. And made deals with cursed men.
Sinking down in my office chair, I shoved my fingers into my hair.
Edmund owed him a favor. One day, the demon could appear and ask for anything he desired. What would he want from Edmund? From my experience, demons were assholes. They made deals, gave you what you wanted for a moment, and then twisted your words and turned your life into a nightmare.
Edmund had said he’d asked to live forever because he’d wanted to be with me.
Abbadon could curse him to an endless life without me.
I didn’t want that for Edmund. Since the moment he had become a cat, we had been together. Our lives were entangled for better or worse.
If I was no longer with him, what would become of him? Would he wish to walk into the sun and turn to ash but be unable to because he’d made a deal with a demon to live forever? Eternity was something I wasn’t even capable of if someone with a grudge decided to break out the pointy sticks.
“You’re not sleeping,” the familiar purr of my housecat came from the door.
I glanced towards Edmund, and he came forward, hopping up onto my desk.
“I’m tired,” I explained. I had climbed into bed with him after I had showered the night off my body. He had fallen asleep, snoring softly against my side, but I hadn’t been able to sleep.
“You’re upset,” he said, stepping off the desk and into my lap. “I’m sorry, Anselm. I should have just waited for your friend.”
�
��I’m not upset,” I assured him again, and I wasn’t. It was his choice to make a deal with a demon. He had every right to do everything in his power to extend his life, to prevent his death and achieve his goals. If I was being honest, making a deal with a demon was clever. They had the power to ensure whatever he wished for came to pass. They just also had the power to make every dream he ever dreamed an unending nightmare. You never knew what you were going to get when dealing with a demon.
Cassius would have been the safer option.
But Abbadon Starling was the easier one.
“I don’t want you to be sad,” he said, pressing his head into my chest. I rested my hand on his back, stroking him softly. “I want us to be . . . us.”
“It seems we are,” I replied. He tipped his head back, his blue eyes neon in the darkness. “You’re a cat again. Do you know if you’ll continue to turn into a man?” Or was this it?
The thought of him no longer having moments as a man was . . . saddening. Over the last couple of weeks as we’d searched for a solution, I had grown accustomed to his new form.
There were moments . . . things I would miss about him being human.
If he was to spend eternity with me as a cat, I would never feed from him again. The both of us had enjoyed that. I would have enjoyed more with him.
“I don’t know,” Edmund purred, nuzzling my chest. “I kind of wish I could keep the thumbs.”
His body extended, growing in my grasp; the fur that wrapped around his flesh receded, and suddenly, naked as the day he was born, Edmund kneeled in my lap.
I pressed my palm against his back, keeping him steady as he perched on my thighs.
“You have thumbs,” I noted. He was human once more.
“That’s weird,” he said, pressing his hands against my shoulders and carefully turning so he was seated more comfortably in my lap. I curled my hands around his hips and held him in place. “At the casino I thought, ‘I wish I was a cat,’ and I was.”
“And just now, you wanted to be a man?” I asked. He had wished for thumbs.
Eight Lives (Match Made In Hell Book 1) Page 10