Touched by Fire: Magic Wars (Demons of New Chicago Book 1)

by Kel Carpenter

  “Maybe we can use that to get out of here, since I got caught too.” She looked around the room with a renewed curiosity, but I knew there was no way out except through that door. Lucifer wouldn’t be stupid enough to put us in a room he thought we could escape. Not when he was dead set on believing I was the key to finding his missing atma, not to mention his keen interest in whatever Nathalie actually was.

  She opened the second door and flipped on the light. It was a bathroom, one large enough for an orgy. She sighed in disappointment.

  “The plan is still on,” I said. “At least for now. He’s coming.”

  Nathalie paused in her snooping. She frowned. A pucker formed between her brows. “How—”

  She didn’t get to finish her question before a knock came at the door.

  It opened without either of us getting it.

  A woman dressed in black patent leather lingerie stepped inside. She had caramel skin and shiny black hair. Two black cat ears poked out of her head of hair. She smiled seductively and strolled into the room like she owned it. Behind her, another woman with the same face and black cat ears walked in. She was wearing a Catholic schoolgirl outfit, complete with the knee-high socks and pigtails.

  “Look at them, so shocked. It’s like they’ve never seen a shifter succubus before,” the second one purred.

  The first one snapped her fingers, and several large men came in bringing a rolling cart of clothes and several utility cases. They lined it up against the empty wall and then left the way they came. Neither Nat nor I said anything until the door clicked shut behind them.

  “I call the blonde,” the leather dominatrix said. Her long black tail swished behind her. “Her legs will be magnificent.”

  Catholic schoolgirl groaned. “You always get the good ones.”

  “You spend too long flaunting yourself, and I don’t want to be on the other end of one of Lucifer’s punishments.” Dominatrix walked right up to me. With her tall heels, we stood eye to eye. Her eyeliner was painted on to perfection, accentuating bright green cat eyes. One of her ears twitched.

  “Lucifer wants you prepped and ready for his party tonight. He’s going to show you off. If you behave, the humiliation will be minimal. If you don’t, he’ll make an example of you—and me.” She lifted a hand to touch my face, and I took a step back.

  “What exactly does that mean?”

  Dominatrix sighed. “Do you really want me to go into all the ways I’ve seen him punish newbies for disobedience? It’s a long list.”

  I pressed my lips together, reminding myself I couldn’t just bust out of here. Not yet. Ronan would show, and I needed him to deal with Lucifer.

  Which meant I had to play along.

  “Prepped and ready for a party. I’m going to take a wild guess that he wants us dressed like you two, given the rack of ridiculousness over there?” I thrust my chin toward it. Dominatrix smiled.

  “Bingo. The nicer you play, the sooner we’ll be done.”

  I eyed Nathalie, who was being poked and prodded by the Catholic schoolgirl. The irony of her outfit given Lucifer’s history with the church might have been amusing under other circumstances.

  “All right, but I want food. We both do.” I motioned to Nat. “And she needs cold medicine. I can’t imagine she’ll be much fun if she’s dripping snot everywhere.”

  Dominatrix inclined her head. “I can do that. Now I’m going to need you to strip and shower. No offense, but you smell like week-old roadkill. There are towels in the bathroom. I need to see what I’m working with, so don’t dress in those clothes again. Just come out naked.” She wrinkled her nose at my smell. I shrugged. Being kidnapped and drugged did that to people.

  Dominatrix kitty gave me a look as if to say, “get going.”

  I huffed under my breath and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

  This next part was going to be the hardest.

  The riskiest.

  And it was only my desire to get it all over with that let me strip and step into the shower. I turned the water on, and a cold downpour drenched me. I shivered. The water warmed.

  My hands were mechanical in their movements as I washed my hair twice, and then my body. The hot spray was pounding into my back when the bathroom door opened.

  “Food is here,” one of the pussy cats said. I wasn’t sure which, given I couldn’t see them through the steamed glass wall of the shower.

  “I’ll be out in a sec.”

  The door closed, and I flipped the nozzle off. Water dripped down my body in rivulets. I wrung my hair out three times on the shower floor before opening the foggy glass door. Dew drops of steam condensed on the mirror over the sink. They ran down the length of it, creating streaks where I could see slivers of myself.

  I stood there, naked, staring at the intertwining black vines around my neck. The markings changed as they descended my chest, shaping around my breasts, and running over either side of my ribs. They covered my shoulders and most of the way down both arms.

  If Lucifer saw them, he would know.

  It was enough to make me want to call off this plan. Just give myself to the magic and light the entire place up. See if the white fire that I conjured in rage really was enough to kill him.

  Knowing Aeshma was his atma, though . . . it made me pause.

  Ronan had said my fire could kill almost anything, but it didn’t kill him because of our bond. What if I had some sort of bond with Lucifer that was leftover from Aeshma?

  What if it couldn’t kill him? What if I couldn’t?

  I needed Ronan, though he didn’t know it.

  I needed him to deal with Lucifer, and with any luck, Lucifer would deal with him.

  So I dried myself with a towel and wrapped it tight around me.

  Then I stepped out into the room.

  Nathalie sat cross-legged on the couch. She took a long drink of some amber liquid from a cup and groaned. “Sasha, this is divine.” Catholic schoolgirl giggled beside her. She was holding a teapot. “Jasmine tea. Lucifer imports it just for us.”

  Across from them, Dominatrix stood, piling food from a cart onto the long coffee table. White meat chicken breasts covered in some kind of gravy with mushrooms sat on one plate. Roasted green beans, mashed potatoes, fresh fruit, and cake were also among the choices. My mouth watered.

  It had been a long time since I’d had a real good meal. After the Magic Wars, fresh food became astronomically expensive. I had to be careful in buying it, but I couldn’t bring myself to live on processed stuff alone. I splurged where I could even if it cost an arm and a leg, but when retirement and taxes didn’t exist, and vacations were a thing of the past, it was more than worth it.

  I considered myself better off than most humans, but food like this, I hadn’t had it since I was a kid. I guess there were perks to owning the New Chicago Underworld.

  Even your slaves could eat like kings and queens of old.

  Three heads turned toward me.

  Of the three, it was only Nathalie that eyed my brands.

  As if she were starting to put together what they meant. What I was. Who I am.

  I tucked the towel under my arms and walked toward the buffet of food.

  A pile of clean glass plates and actual silverware sat on the cart. I took one and piled chicken and green beans on my plate. If I could eat my weight in it, I would.

  “You should try the tea,” Nathalie said, blowing on hers. “It’s really good.”

  I nodded, while taking my first bite of gravy-smothered chicken.

  I could have orgasmed on the spot.

  My eyes closed, and I savored the way it melted in my mouth. I was never a foodie, in the traditional sense. I ate because my body needed food, and if I’d grown up in a different America, during a different time, I might also be different. But even not being one, I could treasure it. Processed food tasted like shit by comparison.

  “Eat up,” Dominatrix said. “When you’re done, I’ll dress you, and th
en we’ll start on your hair and makeup.”

  “You’re up, Nat,” Catholic schoolgirl said.

  They were getting awfully cozy.

  “Sure, sure,” Nat said. “Just one more sip.” She gave the cat-eared woman an affectionate grin and took a long drink before setting her mug down. She stood up and went to the bathroom. The door shut, and I heard the water turn on.

  Silence settled over the three of us while I ate.

  The cat twins alternated between silently sharing looks and staring at me.

  I had eaten two chicken breasts, half the green beans, and a portion of fruit when Dominatrix finally said, “Your tattoos are interesting.”

  “Mhmm,” I hummed, starting in on my third serving of chicken.

  “I’ve only seen ones similar to them once before,” she continued. I paused in my eating and set down the fork.

  When I lifted my eyes, they were both staring at me with knowing looks.

  “Are we going to have a problem?” I asked, reaching for a napkin to wipe my mouth.

  “Has Lucifer seen them?” she asked. There was a new light in her eyes. A dangerous kind.

  I noted when picking up the utensils that knives weren’t among them. Not even butter knives. I could do a lot with a fork, though. If I needed to. I placed my hand next to it, but didn’t pick up just yet. “No.”

  The cat twins nodded like they expected as much.

  “It’ll be difficult to find a dress that covers them,” the Dominatrix said slowly. “But I think I can.”

  My lips parted. “Why?”

  She gave me a bitter smile. “Why are you here?”

  Secrets. It’s crazy how mine were displayed on my skin like the pages of a book. For a decade I’d worn turtlenecks and kept my flesh a secret from those that might know. My only partners were humans who were clueless, and they’d just assumed I liked tattoos.

  “He thinks I betrayed him,” I said.

  “That doesn’t answer the question,” Catholic schoolgirl called Sasha said. She crossed her lean legs and put her arms over the back of the couch. “Why are you here? If you are what we think you are . . .” She trailed off and Dominatrix picked up. “You could kill him. Couldn’t you?”

  Were we really having this discussion?

  “If I say yes,” I paused, and lifted an eyebrow.

  “I might be able to find a dress that hides those marks,” Dominatrix said with a tilt of her head.

  “And if I say no?”

  “Why would we stick our necks out, then?” Sasha said, tilting her head as well. It was eerie.

  I sighed. When they put it that way . . . “There’s a chance I can.”

  They both smiled. “That’s good enough for us,” they said in unison. Dominatrix extended a hand to me. To help me up. To bargain.

  I’d made a lot of dumb bargains that led to this point.

  I wasn’t sure if this would be another one, but I didn’t have a lot of options.

  I took her hand, and she smiled as I got to my feet.

  “Now, let me see you.” She pulled at the towel and I let her. It dropped to my feet, and Sasha let out a whistle.

  “If I thought you wouldn’t kill us afterward, I’d try to bang on that bed over there.” Unlike her vulgar sister, the Dominatrix walked around me in a circle, cataloguing me with a methodical interest.

  “You two seem to have it good here with Lucifer. Why do you want him dead?” I asked.

  Dominatrix stepped away from me to go rummage through the clothing rack. “Do you know why he calls us his pussy cats?” she asked from across the room.

  “Given how you both look, I assume he enjoys fucking you,” I said.

  “Bingo,” she answered. I wasn’t sure if it was in response to what I said, or her discovery of the sleek black number she’d just pulled off the rack. “Sasha and I are half cat shifter and half succubus. Our father was an incubus that raped our mother, and she gave us up when we were born.”

  “That’s shitty,” I said. Her tail twitched.

  “It is,” they said in unison.

  “We bounced around as orphans until we were thirteen. We were caught and sold here in the Underworld. Lucifer bought us and made us into his pussy cat girls.” She spat the title like it was poison in her mouth. “We fuck him however and whenever he wants. We prepare women like you. And if those women don’t behave . . . he isn’t gentle.”

  “Mind you,” Sasha said salaciously, “I prefer it when he’s not gentle.”

  I shuddered. “I’m assuming I don’t want to know.”

  “You don’t,” they agreed. Sasha smiled, and it was both seductive and broken. As if two sides of her were at war.

  Dominatrix cat girl came back, holding out the little black number. I grabbed a handful of the cloth in my hand. It was soft, and smoother than silk, as it ran through my fingers. “No bra. I’ll give you a thong. That should make him happy enough.”

  I stalled for words. Unfamiliar with anyone helping me. Certainly not supes.

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  “You’re welcome. Now get dressed. Lucifer is too arrogant to put cameras in his rooms, but if we take too long preparing you, he’ll come looking.”

  Not needing to be told twice, I shimmied into the dress.

  23

  Even I could admit I looked like sex on a stick when the twins were done with me.

  At least until I walked. Then I hobbled like a one-legged crone with a crutch. Being as tall as I was, and then adding six-inch heels to the mix, I felt like a strong wind could blow me over.

  “Stand up,” Sienna, the Dominatrix, chided. “You’re hugging the railing like it’s going to save you.”

  “That’s because it is,” I said under my breath.

  My grip tightened on the rail as I looked over the most notorious club in the Underworld. Above us there was no ceiling. Only a full moon and thin clouds drifting through. Despite it being December in New Chicago, it wasn’t cold. We had magic to thank for that.

  Below me, the club sat at different levels in an odd layout. Concrete platforms sectioned it off, up and down in large portions. A heavily stocked bar was next to the door, and music played, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

  The Seventh Circle, as it was called, was in full swing tonight.

  “It’s time,” Sasha said, as she strode down the staircase before us, a seductive smile painted on her face as she greeted the club. I reached up to run a hand over my sleek ponytail. My brands were covered, but that’s about all that was in the skintight dress. They’d oiled my long legs after waxing them and then taught me how to walk in the godforsaken shoes. To think women wore these by choice back before the world went to shit.

  On the floor, a figure dressed in white stood apart from everyone else. One hand in his pocket, and the other holding a crystal glass with amber liquid, surveying the club. As if sensing my gaze, he lifted his head and his golden eyes met mine.

  Lucifer.

  My target. My ex-boss. My temporary master, for the evening.

  I let go of the railing when nails dug into my forearm. Beside me, Nathalie was dressed as a slutty cheerleader. Sasha had wanted to put her in a maid’s outfit, but Nat wasn’t a fan of the sheer top that showed off her boobs. They compromised on the cheer outfit that strapped them to her chest and kept them hidden, even if the skirt was short enough to see up it if she leaned forward, or in any direction, for that matter. She also wore heels, except she didn’t look like a baby giraffe in them.

  We continued our descent, and between Nathalie’s death grip on my arm and my hold on the railing, I made it without breaking my neck. It amazed and infuriated me that I could face down vampires and werewolves and witches, but it was fucking shoes that had the best shot of taking me out.

  At the bottom of the platform, I wanted to thank the ground for not being stairs, but that white-clad figure was moving toward us.

  “Piper,” he said huskily. “You look ravishing.”
A bolt of need shot through me at the sheer sound of his voice, and I knew without a doubt it was magic. My knees nearly buckled, but somehow, I remained upright.

  He extended his arm, and I didn’t want to take it. I wanted to light his ass on fire and watch it burn. But judging by the mad glee in his eyes, he was waiting for any opportunity to exert his power over me.

  I took his arm.

  “Nathalie,” he said, with no less heat in his voice. “I might have you for dessert.” He extended his other arm, and she took it, somehow managing not to gag.

  Bile climbed up my throat, but I swallowed it down.

  Then the show began.

  He walked us through the club, and the crowd parted. Eyes followed us everywhere we went. Whispers of the human slave and the Le Fay witch that won the pit fight—and that we now belonged to him.

  He didn’t introduce us to anyone because he didn’t have to.

  Everyone knew who Lucifer was.

  And now, they knew who we were.

  Or so they thought.

  The black dress had done well to hide my brands. With long sleeves and a higher neckline, it might have been skintight, but it wasn’t see-through.

  We approached a platform, a solid foot lower than the one we were on. I slowed. Lucifer tightened his grip on me. He stepped down with fluid grace, and Nathalie followed, only slightly more human in her movements. I twisted, trying to lower myself gingerly.

  A dark chuckle escaped him.

  He released Nathalie, then pulled on my arm.

  I lost my balance and went tumbling forward, but his strong body wrapped around me. He pulled me into his embrace, and the scents of blood and sex washed over me. I swallowed, going still. My damned heartbeat was going to give out before the night’s end and blow our whole plan.

  Where was Ronan and his stalkerness when I needed it?

  “Mmm,” Lucifer hummed against my cheek. “You smell like smoke and roses and Aeshma. My favorite.”

  “What does Aeshma smell like?” I asked because I didn’t know what else to say to that. I certainly wasn’t going to thank him.