Demons of Desire (13 page)

Finally the elevator opened with a ding, and I entered, silently willing the thing to move faster as I glared at my reflection in the stainless steel doors. It didn’t help. Elevators always seem to go slower when you’re in a hurry. Eventually the stupid thing opened on my floor.

Twelve twenty–three. I knocked, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as Ourson answered the door with an impassive face.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.”

The impassive face broke into shock. That’s when I realized demons didn’t give a flying fuck about being late. Everything ran on their timetable, at their whim. Oh well. I wasn’t going to turn into a rude asshole and use my genetics as an excuse.

“Please forgive me. I’m not normally so inconsiderate about other people’s time. I’m running on a stupidly tight schedule today and got held up south of the city.”

The vampire nodded slowly. “No problem. We weren’t waiting long.”

Ourson opened the door wide, and I got an eyeful of white. White walls, white bed linens, white drapes, white lamps, white chairs. Even the damned carpet was white. I immediately wondered how in the world they managed to get bloodstains off anything. Or other bodily fluids. Hopefully there would be more of the latter and none of the former in this transaction. I felt bad enough about being late. I didn’t want to saddle Ourson with that sort of cleanup, and there’s no way I had time to squeeze it into my schedule. It was all up to the guy, though. I was his fantasy, and if that included blood, so be it.

I entered the room to see a man with black hair and olive skin lounging against the mirrored wet bar, a glass of something amber on the rocks in his hand. For a second I caught my breath, noticing that the man bore a faint resemblance to Irix. Ourson grinned at my obvious approval of his choice.

“I hope you enjoy the tribute we have provided for you. Please feel free to spend as much time as you wish, and dial twenty–one on the phone if I can be of any service.”

At least he wouldn’t be hovering outside the doorway, listening in. My vampire minder discretely slipped out the door, and I faced the man. He was gorgeous — crisp shirt unbuttoned two from the neck. A gray jacket was casually draped across the end of the bed, and the man’s left hand was in the pocket of matching gray pants. Expensive clothes. The fit form and beautiful face were more than compelling. I looked into the dark brown eyes and lamented for a brief moment that they weren’t gold.

There was nothing for me to find fault with. He met all my picky criteria. Still, it was best to be sure.

“You know what I am?”

“You’re a succubus.” The look of confidence in his face never wavered. His husky voice made it quite clear that my demon side only heightened his desire.

“I will seduce you. I will be everything you have ever desired, and, in return, a part of you will always be mine.”

His knees shook, and he swallowed noticeably. “Yes.”

Well, that took care of the consent part. I needed him. He clearly desired me. There was no logical reason to back out now. No reason at all, except the image of sultry golden eyes that kept springing from my memory.

“Do you want me?”

I pulled off the tank top as I walked forward, revealing a lacy peach bra. The man held his breath, pupils dilating with need as he watched my progress. I may have been a bit sweaty, and not wearing the sexiest attire in the world, but I was rocking the pheromones, and my succubus side purred with satisfaction at the potential partner.

“Yes.”

The word was guttural. Choked. As though he could barely force it from his throat.

I closed the distance and pulled him to me. He smelled of sandalwood and clove. Soft, full lips merged with mine, and I pressed myself against him. My partner for the evening wasn’t shy. Hands skated across my waist and up to unclasp my bra. He leaned back a mere inch, sliding it expertly from my shoulders and down to the floor before encasing me in muscled arms. The feel of his silk shirt against my bare nipples was almost more than I could endure. I moaned against his mouth, rubbing myself along the silk.

“Mmmm.” He shuddered against me, digging his fingers into my back as if he could somehow merge his body with mine.

I didn’t need to ask him what he wanted, didn’t need to awkwardly grope around. The succubus in me took over, and the elf half was surprisingly subdued. I took my time, extending the experience for my partner as I yanked the buttons from his shirt and pulled the ends from his pants. My hands skirted his fly and the bulge there, feathering along the sensitive skin of his waist and digging hard nails into flesh as I raked up his back. He gasped into my mouth.

“I want to see you naked before me. I want you on your knees.” This was what
he
wanted, and therefore it was what I wanted too. Anything to lock him to me for the rest of his life.

He resisted. I snarled, biting his lower lip hard enough to hurt, but not enough to draw blood. “Down. Naked.”

Lips left mine abruptly, and the man fell to the floor as if he were compelled by supernatural means. Tanned, muscled hands shook as he unbuttoned his pants and slid the zipper south. With a shimmy, my partner managed to wiggle himself free from the silk as I watched with cruel eyes. He was naked beneath the expensive pants. Naked. On his knees. Before me.

And I felt like a total shit.

Something hard lodged in my chest, and my stomach churned, but I was on autopilot. It didn’t matter what I wanted, what I felt. The only thing that counted was being his ideal lover, fulfilling his deepest fantasy and securing my eternal link to him. I slowly removed my belt, sliding it through the loops as he watched my every movement. The supple leather folded easily in half, and I jerked both ends outward. His eyes widened at the whip–like crack of the belt. So much desire with just a tinge of fear. But what he wanted would have greater impact if I drew it out a little.

Unfolding the belt, I looped it around his neck and pulled him toward me, stopping as he teetered on the edge of falling forward. His wish would be my command, and the thought made me a little ill. Images of what he wanted filled my mind.

But there was nothing else filling me. I frowned down at him, wondering where the surge of energy was. Stepping forward, I gripped his chin with my hand and felt … nothing.

It was a like a bitch–slap to the face. There was no energy coming my way because it was all going elsewhere.

“Not your first time at this rodeo, is it?” I asked, unlooping the belt from his neck and stooping to pick up my bra and shirt.

He remained on his knees and stared at me, confused. “Huh?”

I hooked the bra around my waist and pulled the straps up and over my shoulders, waiting until I was fully dressed to respond. “Succubus. You’ve been with another succubus, or incubus. There’s nothing for you to give me. You already gave it away.”

His eyes grew frantic as I started for the door. “Please! You don’t know what it’s like, the torture of desire never fulfilled. No matter who I have sex with, I’m always empty.”

I shook my head blindly and kept walking. His words were like hot knives tearing their way through my belly. Linked to a demon for life — this is what we did. This is what I did.

“Please! You’re just like her. I’ve been searching for years trying to recreate how she made me feel, trying to find someone to fill this hollow need. I’ll do anything. Please.”

I paused. The sympathy I felt for this man was mixed with self–loathing. I’d leave the people I preyed upon like this — desperate and ravenous.
You’re just like her.
I was. I remembered the Zumba instructor, his name forever lost to me, his image hazy in my mind. Did he troll bars late at night with haunted eyes, looking for someone to end what was an endless hunger? What had I done to him and all those boys I’d slept with once and dumped? I wished I could help this man, but I was just as much of a monster as the demon who’d done this to him.

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do to help you.”

The door clicked shut as I left, instantly muting his sobs. I held it together all the way to the stairwell, and then I was the one kneeling on the floor crying. I’d rather starve than do that to another person, but it wasn’t just revulsion that filled me. Relief. Relief that his prior commitment had kept me from going through with the whole thing. As desperate as I’d been to avoid Irix’s ultimatum, this wasn’t the solution. I just needed to stall the incubus until I figured out what that solution was.

Composing myself, I left the stairwell and took the elevator down to the lobby where Ourson waited.

“Would you like me to secure another partner for you?” He seemed very pleased with himself, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him what had happened.

“No. That will be sufficient for my stay here.” The moment I said the words I wanted to retract them. My tone was all wrong, as if he were a butler and I were some entitled aristocrat. The tears welled up again, and Ourson’s eyes grew wide.

“What’s wrong? Are you …
crying
?”

I choked a bit on a laugh, realized that demons probably never cried. “I hate what I am, Ourson. I hate having to do these things. And I hate that I just spoke to you like you were my flunky. Can we stop with the whole concierge thing and just be friends? Can you treat me like I’m not a demon?”

“What should I treat you like?” He was looking at me as if I’d gone completely insane. I felt like I had.

“Human? No, that won’t work, will it?” I choked on a laugh, envisioning Ourson constantly trying to bite me. “How about you just pretend I’m one of your vampire friends.”

A smile lurked around the edges of his mouth. “Sure. Wanna grab a bite later at the club? I get dibs on any B negative.”

Okay, so maybe vampire buddy wouldn’t work. It was a start though.

“Nah. I’m meeting Darci in a few for dinner, then I’m off to assist a bunch of witches fix the swamps.” And then I was going to try and avoid Irix and his ultimatum.

Ourson grinned, his brown eyes warm. “Rain check?”

“Rain check.” I assured him.

13

I
doubt this Bev woman is going to make herself look like a fool in front of her coven by blowing the ritual. Jordan said she needs those trees to be healthy. Plus, she arranged the whole thing.”

I ate a spoonful of gumbo, savoring the sharp, peppery flavor, and the burst of caraway as I bit a seed buried in the sausage. Darci was probably right. I was just being paranoid again. It was understandable — the woman clearly didn’t like me and had picked the area I was most unlikely to have success. She’d been coldly polite this morning at the bayou, asking if there was anything special I needed for the ritual. Unfortunately, the one thing I needed I didn’t have. I doubted they’d volunteer a member to have sex with me during the ritual. In spite of their acceptance of sex magic, my particular form of it wouldn’t be acceptable. I’d already scared off over half the coven. No need to frighten off the rest.

I looked around the restaurant in desperation, but there wasn’t time for me to screen likely candidates. There was no time left at all.

“No, it’s totally on me if it doesn’t work. I’ve procrastinated, and I’m going into this with hardly any energy in my tank.”

Darci eyed me sympathetically between bites of corn muffin. “There’s always Irix.”

I choked, spewing a fine spray of stew across the table. Darci pounded me helpfully on the back as I coughed into a napkin and struggled to regain my breath. Irix. The ritual tonight wasn’t my only issue. There’s no way I’d meet his midnight deadline. I’d be in a circle with ten witches then. Even if I hustled back to the city, overcame my significant moral objections and pounced on the first man I saw, I’d never make it in time. I wouldn’t put it past Irix to drag me out of the circle mid–ritual, just to prove a point. He’d given me one extension; I doubted he’d give me a second. I just needed to avoid him until I could manage to resolve my little issue on my own. I’d gained energy from the dance club. Maybe I just needed to spend most of each day in one. Hopefully that would be enough to sustain me, and satisfy the incubus.

“I’m trying to delay having sex with Irix as long as I can,” I croaked out, still coughing.

Darci rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Right. I give you two days, three max. Any day now, I expect to come home and find a hanger on the door knob.”

I couldn’t help but grin. That had been our universal signal in college that one of us was getting some action — kind of like a do–not–disturb sign. It worked great until Megan down the hall stole the hanger as a practical joke and Darci walked in on me and Craig … or was it Luke? She’d stared, openmouthed, for a few seconds, remarked that she hadn’t realized I was so bendy, then left. We still laughed about it.

“At the rate I’m going, it will probably be before dawn.” I lay down my spoon and pushed the empty bowl away. “Who knew it would be so damned hard to get laid?”

Not that I intended to get laid, ever. After what I saw at the hotel today, I was firmly returning to my abstinence routine.

She shook her head, biting back a smile. “Well, if you’d make an exception about the sandals and socks thing… .”

No way. Yuck. A girl had to have standards.

“I wish I had a few days to hang out in that dance club. That would probably amount to one night of sex.” Of course, I’d have to avoid Irix for that long — which would be impossible given the odd homing beacon he seemed to have on me.

Darci hesitated, her eyes big as she waved her spoon at me. “Wait. I’ve got an idea. How long until Jordan picks you up?”

I caught my breath. Darci’s ideas were often spectacular — spectacularly bad. “An hour.”

“Perfect.” She looked around, judging the distance between us in our little booth and the nearest diners. Leaning forward, she mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath.

“What?”

Darci’s face creased in irritation. “Fetish club only a block away.” More mumbling followed that announcement.

“Fetish club!” I shouted in astonishment, wincing as several interested sets of eyes turned our way. This was New Orleans, though, so after a brief glance, everyone went back to their gumbo. Darci, on the other hand, glared at me, her lips in a tight line.