Demons of Desire (12 page)

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Authors: Debra Dunbar

Tags: #contemporary fantasy, urban fantasy, demon, vampire, paranormal romance, fantasy romance, succubus

BOOK: Demons of Desire
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I had no fucking idea what he was talking about, so I remained silent and nodded knowingly. I have a feeling my “knowingly” came across as “clueless”, because Ourson gave me a sharp look and leaned his chair back onto two legs.

“A potential demon alliance. Vampire families are very interested in fostering relationships with powerful demons that we can leverage in the future for favors.”

I didn’t like that word “leverage”. And I seriously doubted I met the criteria for a “powerful demon”. Unless the vampires wanted me to fuck someone, or bring their begonias into an early bloom, they were shit out of luck.

The waiter brought our coffee and presented our brioche with a flourish, his eyes darting over Ourson’s broad chest. Poor guy. The vampire didn’t give him a second glance, his eyes fixed on mine the whole time.

“You know what that means?” Ourson asked as the waiter walked slowly away with dejected shoulders.

“I owe you a favor?”

Irix had tried to teach me this stuff, but it had gone in one pointy ear and out the other. Stubborn resistance plus a brain entranced by his physical charms had rendered me deaf to his instructional lectures.

“No! Well, sort of. Is this your first time here or something? Exactly how old are you?”

The gig was up unless I could manage to talk my way out of this. Usually, not a problem, but humans were more susceptible to a beautiful pair of eyes and heaving breasts than vampires seemed to be.

“I’ve been here almost twenty–one years, but it’s my first time.”

I was rather proud of my prevarication. And I added some heaving breast action, just in case. It worked. Ourson’s eyes nearly left his head, but it wasn’t my ta–tas that swayed him.

“Twenty–one years? Sweet Moses, how have you managed to avoid the angels that long?”

I mimicked him with my shrug and tried to look mysterious. I think my lame acting blew the deal. The vampire’s eyebrows rose, and he looked knowingly at me over the rim of his absurdly tiny espresso cup.

“Whatever. Anyway, I’ll be your minder while you’re in New Orleans, to ensure you don’t get killed on our watch and to provide you with the ultimate in vacationing experience.”

The time–share bullshit went right over my head. All I heard was that ugly word “minder” — that hit my guts with the strength of a noro virus. “Leverage” was bad. “Minder” made me want to puke.

“You are not following me the fuck around. Got that?” I liked this guy, but I already had an incubus shadow, I didn’t need a vampire one too. “I’m here to visit my friend and enjoy myself, not look over my shoulder every block while you stalk me. Screw that.”

Ourson threw his hands up, alarm flashing across his eyes at my mild temper tantrum. “You won’t see me, won’t even know I’m there. I’ll make sure you’re safe from the angels — kind of a personal bodyguard, only completely stealthy. If you need someone — a human to satisfy your needs, I’ll screen and provide the perfect partner. Think of me as a concierge.”

Sounded more like a pimp to me. Not that I was averse to that sort of service. I was in a strange city with a deadline looming over my head, and very particular requirements.

“Okay, deal. But I need to ask you my first favor, as my concierge. I need sex. Male, unmarried. Someone who doesn’t want commitment and only is looking for a brief encounter. Preferably someone in their forties or older who has made casual sex a lifestyle choice.”

Ourson stared at me, his mouth open.

“In good health. I don’t mind an old guy, but I don’t want to have someone stroking out on me.” I hated the thought of causing another’s death, no matter how pleasurable the passing might be for the victim. Besides, the initial energy surge would be all I’d get if my partner left this existence immediately afterward. I needed a longer supply than that.

“I can do that.” The vampire seemed rather breathless at the prospect. “Where will you be today?”

“South. A few miles out of town in the bayou.” I needed to meet with Jordan’s coven for our ceremony prep. The actual circle tonight wouldn’t give me enough time to waste and meet Irix’s new deadline, so I’d need to arrange an afternoon quickie. “Three in the afternoon good for you?”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “Marriott in the French Quarter. Room twelve twenty three.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Ourson. I really appreciate this.” I threw some money down on the table and got up. I had to hustle if I was going to squeeze all this into my schedule. “Oh, and no socks with sandals. That’s a total deal breaker.”

11

T
hanks for loaning me your boots,” I told Jordan as I stuck them in the back seat of her car. I was glad Ourson had returned them — who knows what they would have cost to replace. “I’ll get the rest of the clothes back to you after I’ve had them cleaned.” And repaired. I might need to purchase a new skirt for her after what it had been through last night.

“No problem. Did you take care of Mr. Quickie–in–the–Alley?”

Luckily I was turned toward the window, putting on my seatbelt or Jordan would have seen my grimace. I wouldn’t call what happened last night ‘taking care’ of anything. Once again the two halves of myself warred with each other. Should I tell Jordan exactly what Ourson and his buddies had been doing in the back alley with their pickups? Although, at a goth club, a real vampire might be quite the draw.

I wanted to warn Jordan, but I didn’t really want to out my new vampire friend. How shitty was that? Keeping his identity a secret so he could continue to prey on the goth club patrons. Where did my loyalties lie? Would it bother me if someone told my secret? Actually, no. I’d probably deserve being called out on my less–than–savory activities.

“I’m pretty sure he and his friends will continue their alleyway activities. They’re harmless if you aren’t looking for anything beyond twenty minutes.”

There. Although that did sound a bit like an endorsement. Should I warn her that Ourson and his friends wouldn’t exactly provide sexual satisfaction? Pretend that he was hung like a flea?

“Ah well. Once a player, always a player, huh? Hope he had a lot of energy, we’ve got a busy evening ahead.”

Ugh. I hoped Ourson came through for me or I’d be lucky to grow a blade of grass this evening. I decided to keep my thoughts positive and turned to watch Jordan drive, her eyes sensibly on the road.

“So, what should I expect tonight? I’ve been to a few Beltane rituals, but I’m assuming this will be different.”

Jordan shot me an appreciative glance. “I can only imagine how Beltane would be with a succubus in the circle. Wow.”

I laughed. “Yeah. I didn’t know I was half succubus at the time and just figured that the holiday always involved an orgy. No wonder I kept getting invited back.”

“It’s a wonder your mailbox isn’t flooded with invites. This won’t be anything like Beltane, beyond the usual method of casting the circle, calling the quarters, invoking the Lord and Lady. Bev and Jason will be designing the magic portion of the ritual, and they’ll go over it when we get there. There’s an energy raising — chanting, or dancing, then we’ll direct it with intent, probably with a branch from one of the affected trees.”

“Wait. I thought we were doing the water work. We’re back to the trees now?”

Jordan shifted in her seat, her eyes practically glued to the road. “Yeah. Bev decided last night that the trees were more important. It’s hurricane season, so I can’t really fault her logic or priorities.”

“You told her about my limitations?” Crap. Looks like I’d be in hip waders fighting off snakes and alligators tonight. Bad enough that the mosquitoes out here were the size of my fist.

“Yeah… .”

Uh oh. I didn’t like that hesitation in Jordan’s voice. I didn’t press her, calmly looking out at the Mississippi River steadily flowing south under the tall bridge.

“Bev … she’s a good high priestess in spite of some of our philosophical differences. Bon Nuit has grown and strengthened under her leadership.”

“But?” I prompted.

Jordan shot me an inscrutable look. Her driving was smooth and even, but her hands flexed rhythmically on the steering wheel, and there were tense lines around her eyes. “She is very uncomfortable with the fact that you’re half demon. Regardless of your demonic classification, it skirts the line, and she isn’t fully supportive of working with you on this.”

Great. Once again my monster was causing doors to slam in my face. “So why did she agree? I can’t believe causing azaleas to bloom in late summer alleviated her moral doubts as to my motives or karmic baggage.”


I
have no moral doubts on your motives or karma, Amber. I truly think you can help. Your magic is neutral in that it works for the overall balance of energy and environment. We need that — not just our coven, but all the humans living here.”

“Yes, but we were talking about Bev.” I had a sudden thought that her dislike of me might be more than my half–demon status. “She doesn’t like neutral, does she? She fears whatever I do may not be in
her
best interests.”

“The death of these trees could pose real problems for the coven. You’re not loyal to us, and I think she does fear the neutrality of your magic. But in spite of that, she’s willing to take a chance on you to save those trees.”

This must be very important to Bev for her to go out on a limb like this. I watched Jordan carefully as she drove, feeling her doubts, her unease with the whole situation.

“Jordan, you’re my friend. What do you suggest I do? You know my passion for nature, but I’ll admit I’ve got a dark side. I don’t really know what my abilities are and how to direct them. I don’t really give a shit about Bev, but I don’t want to go in there and screw things up. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t be messing around with this stuff.”

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she glanced at me. “Let’s see what Bev has to say today, and we’ll go from there. As much as my loyalty is with my coven, I promise to be straight with you, Amber. I consider you a friend, and I won’t be anything less than honest with you.”

That was the most I could ask for. I continued to look out at the gray skies and highly populated areas that shifted from miles of retail strip malls to a dense landscape of trees and plants.

Five figures stood on a patch of reasonably solid ground about twenty feet from the road. Bev stood out, tall and thin with her silver hair plastered to her face in damp strands. She pointed into the distance, and the younger man next to her looked obligingly in that direction. They looked like Mutt and Jeff standing together, the man’s short stature and round belly a sharp contrast. The others had measuring tape, compasses, and a plastic, wheeled item that dispensed a thin line of chalk.

“Marking the directions and the circle perimeter,” Jordan whispered. “Saves time later, and it’s easier to do during the day.”

Plus, I could imagine this sort of activity wouldn’t be conducive to the state of mind necessary to raise magical energy. Jordan made introductions, and I was relieved to see that the others didn’t seem to share Bev’s unwelcoming attitude. We made our way to where the other two were standing, and I felt the curious but friendly stares of the other three on my back.

“Do they know what I am?” I asked Jordan in a low voice.

She nodded, giving me an apologetic look. “Bev thought everyone should know, in case they had any moral objections or felt their energy might not work well with yours.”

“How many?” The heat in my face wasn’t just from the sun broiling my skin.

Jordan patted my arm in an awkward sympathetic gesture. “Ten.”

I should have been concerned with the fact that eighty strangers now knew what I was, but, instead, I was upset that a majority of them ‘morally objected’ to working with me. They didn’t even know me. A pariah. A half demon. Even when I was doing something good, I was shunned.

“It’s nothing to do with you. They’re scared. They don’t know you, haven’t seen what you can do.” Jordan halted me, stepping slightly in front of me. Anxious brown eyes searched mine. “I asked you to do this. I’m here, and so are ten other people.
We
want you here.”

Well, everyone but Bev, although she seemed to have made her peace with me as a necessary evil. I guess, deep down, I really couldn’t blame them. Last year if I’d been invited to a ritual that involved a demon, I would have probably refused too. Of course, last year I would have thought they were all off their rocker. Demons didn’t exist last year. Neither did vampires, elves, or babies stolen from their cribs and replaced with monsters. It was like a curtain had been ripped away from a window, and my eyes were only now adjusting to the light. I couldn’t blame those who were still blind and afraid.

“Thank you for having faith in me.” I gave Jordan a quick hug, smelling the strawberry shampoo in her hair. “Let’s go talk to the bitch and get this over with. I’ve got a hot date this afternoon, and I don’t want to be late.”

12

I
’d frantically called Darci on my way back from the bayou, arranging to have dinner with her before Jordan picked me up for the ceremony. I hadn’t seen my friend since this morning. This “vacation” was to spend time with her, and I felt guilty that I was constantly ditching her to hang with vampires and witches, not to mention all the time I was spending trying to score a sexual partner. Hooking up shouldn’t be so damned hard.

Jordan dropped me off in front of the hotel, giving me a high five and a knowing look as I leapt from the car and raced up the stairs into the lobby. My Nikes squeaked as I dashed across the golden tiles, polished with such a high gloss they nearly blinded me. The man behind the reception desk helpfully pointed me to a bank of elevators, and I stood, impatiently waiting for the lighted numbers to work their way down to my level.

A guest played inexpertly at the huge grand piano in the lobby, and the smell of spicy seafood made my stomach growl. I hadn’t eaten since the brioche with Ourson. First things first: sex, then food with Darci, then magic. After all that, I’d relax, comatose, on the patio of a bar overlooking the river, a mint julep in one hand as I listened to someone who played the piano better than the dude behind me.

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