Demon Retribution (3 page)

Zoey joined her on the dance floor and
handed her some kind of orangy-red drink. It tasted fruity. They
danced a couple of songs, club-whispering about which guys they
thought were cute.

Unfortunately, Zoey had the absolute worst
taste in men. Though not when it came to looks. When it came to
looks, she was a spot on hottie detector. But when it came to
personality, the girl was intuitively-challenged.

Like something out of Night at the Roxbury,
two dark haired guys presented themselves, separating the girls
with their bodies. Zoey gave a thumbs-up and went with it. Kyra
rolled her eyes and snorted, which couldn’t be heard over the
music.

The song changed into something a little
more rhythmic, and she let it speak through her movements, allowing
the guy his chance to impress her. At least he had the guts to
try—a rare quality these days.

But when he started mentioning cars and
going for rides, she’d had enough. She wanted to make sure Zo
wasn’t getting the same sweet talk, but she saw Zo smiling, and her
partner keeping his hands in the safe zones, so she decided to head
to the bar for a refill instead.

While waiting for the bartender, she took in
the euphoric atmosphere. Multicolored lights snaked over gyrating
bodies. On the balcony, a DJ watched over the crowd, manipulating
them through melody like a puppeteer.

Next to him, a man caught her eye. His
stance was bored, his manner cool. Arms crossed in front of him, he
leaned on the banister, looking down at her. She couldn’t read his
expression. His biceps weren’t huge but there was obvious power in
them. His eyes were piercing, and even from where she was standing,
she could tell they were steely blue.

But all this wasn’t what had snared her
attention. It was the familiar black hat and tank top, and the fact
that he didn’t look away when she’d caught his gaze.

She swallowed, realizing the scrutiny
unnerved her. But why should it? Another quick sweep revealed more
than half a dozen men sneaking glances at her. It was not unusual.
She understood that her features appealed to humans. Usually it was
flattering. But she couldn’t shake the sudden sense of alarm.

Maybe it was his riveted, unwavering gaze,
when anyone else caught staring would have pretended to look
elsewhere.

Glancing back at him, she met his gaze once
more, curious how long his would linger. Then his lips quirked in
an amused grin, and he raised a brow at her. She narrowed her eyes,
instantly irritated. A strange reaction, but she didn’t fight
it.

“
Can I get you something?”
The bartender broke her focus.

“
Yeah, a hurricane,
please.”

She paid the outrageously bloated price and
sipped the sweet beverage. Then she glanced back to the balcony.
The man was no longer there. A couple of women had taken his place,
dancing as if they were on a stage rather than a crowded
balcony.

Kyra chewed her straw, surveying the rest of
the club. She told herself it wasn’t for that mysterious man, but
she knew it was a lie.

Zoey continued to dance. She’d managed to
catch the attention of both Roxbury brothers. As long as they
didn’t start bumping their chests against Zoey, Kyra would leave
them be.

The music transformed again, and she pushed
back onto the dance floor, letting it take over. Each beat was like
a physical pulse to the crowd, making them all move as if of one
mind. The songs played out, morphing smoothly from one tune to the
next. When its story became a little more frenzied and sensual, the
dancers responded in kind.

The feel of a hand on her hip surprised her.
She spun around to find the man in the dark hat, amused expression
still in place. He didn’t give her much time to react before
pulling her into his personal dance space with a palm to the small
of her back.

Unused to the show of aggression, she froze,
but not for long. He expertly maneuvered her. An outside viewer
would probably not recognize her awkward stiffness.

He stood only slightly taller than she, but
seemed to loom over her nonetheless, his eyes just as intense as
before. She could tell that his blond hair was cut short under his
hat. His jaw was smooth and shapely, and…nibble-able. He was too
handsome for his own good, and obviously knew it.

She sensed there was something different
about him. This man was in no way unsure of himself or deterred by
her stunned reaction, and there was an undercurrent of danger. Her
instincts were going haywire.

Despite herself, she smiled. It wasn’t often
that someone took her by surprise. And as unusual as his actions
were, they were a welcome relief from the stagnant repetitiveness
of her life. She could use a little excitement for a change. Even
if it was just an insignificant dance with an overconfident
stranger.

She relaxed as the music changed again.
There had been a little gap between them, but as soon as he felt
her relent, there was no gap at all. The heat of his body and smell
his masculine scent appealed to her, and she leaned closer. His
breath on her skin tingled, and she shivered.

She turned in his arms, so that her back was
to his chest, and rolled her hips to the beat. His arms came around
her stomach as their bodies crushed together. They were both now at
the command of the puppet master.

Zoey caught her eye with a look full of
implications and fake fanned herself. The guy Kyra had been dancing
with gave her new partner a disdainful glare. The man either didn’t
notice, or didn’t care. She could practically feel his attention on
her alone, even though she wasn’t facing him.

Stirring her hips, Kyra lifted her arms
around his neck, and he buried his nose in her hair. His hot palm
found the front waist of her jeans, and he ran the tips of his
fingers under it, while his other hand trailed down the underside
of her arm. The sensation was drugging.

Then he moved aside her hair and
chuckled.

Her body reacted on instinct, breaking away
and twirling to face him. For the second time, he’d caught her off
guard. But then, how would she have known he would go for the
ears?

She was ready with her usual explanation,
but he didn’t ask about them like most people would. But why? She
knew he’d gotten a good look.

Her heart pick up pace as it registered
something that her brain was only now figuring out.

His stance was too casual and relaxed. He
didn’t look confused or curious. In fact, he didn’t look surprised
at all by her sudden movement. The way he stood said he’d expected
it, and she didn’t like the knowing curve to his lips.

The music shifted again, becoming something
sinister—or perhaps that was just her interpretation—as they stared
at each other.

Zoey must have noticed, because she appeared
by her side with her entourage, brandishing the proper look of
confusion on their faces.

“
Ky? What’s going on?” she
asked.

Kyra wasn’t sure how to
answer that. What
was
going on? Instead of saying anything, she just gave Zo
the signal
. The one they
would use to alert the other, “time to go, don’t ask questions.” A
very useful tool they had borrowed from a popular sitcom, though
Kyra never thought she’d be the one to actually use it.

Without question, Zo waved goodbye to the
Roxbury twins and headed for the exit. Kyra tailed her. She glanced
back once, to make sure he wasn’t following, but the empty space
where he had been was quickly engulfed by the oblivious crowd.

In the cab, Zo inquired about their hasty
retreat, but could only reply, “I just didn’t like that guy. He
gave me the willies.”

“
Damn. It’s always the hot
ones, isn’t it?”

Later, after a few more hurricanes at their
second club destination, Kyra considered that she might have
overreacted. He probably hadn’t meant to scope out her ears. Or, if
he had, it was more likely that he had a weird fetish, rather than
some prior knowledge of what he would find.

Some guys like feet. Suffice it to say, some
might have a thing for ears. She’d heard of a website dedicated to
clown sex for crying out loud. Anything was possible.

Anything except for the concealed
understanding she’d seen behind his eyes.

Calic leaned casually against a tree across
the street from her apartment building. The shadows of night kept
him hidden.

He’d arrived on Earth more than a month ago,
on a mission to find and protect the Faieara princess, Kyra. While
searching for her, he’d educated himself on the ways of this
planet.

It had been the opposite of
what he’d expected.
Marada’s
database had detailed this planet as primitive and
archaic. Instead, what he found was evidence of multiple
space-culture colonization.

He’d walked the streets for weeks surprised
to find dragon blood in the veins of these humans, or denaloid in
their mannerisms, Serakian beliefs in their Wiccan religion, among
other characteristics from the many races he’d encountered while
traveling as a space merchant.

There were also signs of his own people
making their mark here, which was even more interesting. However,
the general consensus of demons was inconvenient. Somehow, his
kind, or a race that resembled his kind, had carved their way into
the worst parts of human mythology. To these people, demons were
without morals, abhorred, feared. He could foresee it making
contact a pain in the ass.

But, whatever events had transpired to bring
so many unrelated factions together on one little planet had
obviously happened ages ago. Humanity had no memory of it, and the
bloodlines had become so diluted, any one human’s true lineage was
no longer clear.

And there were so many of them!

The planet was practically over populated.
When he’d first arrived, Cale had been shocked by their numbers,
and worried that he would never be able to find Kyra.

Luckily, fate had been on his side.

By chance, he’d found her three days ago
when he came across her scent in the park. It was instantly
familiar to him. Kyra’s younger sister, Anya, had a similar
fragrance, though not as intriguing.

He’d followed it to her apartment complex.
Her location couldn’t have been any more blatant than if she’d
rubbed herself over every inch of matter leading up to the
entrance.

Thank the gods he’d gotten here before the
Kayadon.

Fortunately, that was one race he hadn’t
detected in this melting pot of DNA, although that didn’t mean they
weren’t here somewhere. The land was massive.

Shortly after discovering where Kyra lived,
he’d figured out which room was hers. Fifth floor, on the corner.
He figured she’d chosen it because only those apartments offered
balconies, and early this morning she had lounged on hers with a
steaming cup in hand, gazing into the park.

Currently, her windows were dark. She hadn’t
returned yet.

He’d expected her to head straight home
after their encounter, but five hours later, here he was, still
waiting.

At the club, his intentions
had been to verify her identity and finally present himself as her
temporary protector until
Marada
came. But when she’d first looked up at him on the
balcony, he saw a spark of intuition flash over her features. Ever
so subtly, her mood had become suspicious, guarded. Any little
movement on her part seemed defensive. She’d assessed her
surroundings, as if expecting an ambush.

At that point, he couldn’t help but to have
a little fun.

Her reactions had been entertaining and told
him more about her than she probably realized. She’d gone straight
into a fighting stance when he’d peeked at her cute little ear.

He thought back to Anya’s training. She had
been all but helpless, and he was glad to see that might not be the
case with her older sister.

Hopefully his actions hadn’t put her too on
edge. He chuckled, remembering how wide her eyes had gone. They
were the oddest color. For a strange moment he’d gotten lost in
trying to decipher the best name for it. Coupled with her smile,
she had the power to bring any man to his knees. Well, any man but
him.

Pulling him from his musings, he noticed one
of those yellow vehicles had stopped in front of her building. He
watched her step out with a little less grace than she’d shown
earlier in the night before paying the driver. Her little black
haired friend was nowhere in sight.

Her step faltered, and a random giggle
escaped her as she headed toward the entrance guard. Cale snorted,
realizing she was drunk. She paused before reaching the guard, who
patiently held the door open, and turned to adjust the strap of her
bag. While she was at it, her gaze scanned the edge of the
park.