Hades (20 page)
Authors: Larissa Ione
Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Demons & Devils, #Angels, #Collections & Anthologies
And what a body it was. His black uniform stretched tight across his shoulders and abs, the rolled sleeves revealing thickly-muscled arms made to pin his partner to a mattress.
Slake had no idea if the dude was into males, females, or both, but the guy practically oozed confidence and sex. The medic crossed his arms across his broad chest, giving Slake a prime view of a sleeve of tattoos winding from his fingers to where they disappeared beneath his uniform at his biceps and reappeared at the top of his collar. The pattern ended just below his jaw, although Slake couldn’t make out the individual designs. Damn, Slake loved tats.
He wondered what species of demon the guy was. He wasn’t human; Slake’s ability to distinguish a blue human aura from an orangey-red demon one made that clear. Not that Slake was picky when it came to bed mates, but he drew the line at fucking any species of demon that rated a five on the Ufelskala scale of evil. Fours were bad enough, but with a five, you never knew whether or not your partner was going to kill you after you came.
Or
before
you came, for that matter.
Reluctantly tearing his attention away from the medic, Slake strode through the club, his eyes peeled for his target. There were approximately a million and a half females milling about, but none resembled the petite, black-haired Asian in the picture he’d been given two months ago by his boss at Dire & Dyre, the law firm that employed him as an Acquirer. Yup, if someone wanted something or someone, Slake was the one sent to acquire it.
Except this job was different. This job was the one that would determine the course of the rest of his life.
And the rest of his
after
life.
But hey, as his boss pointed out, it was
only
his
soul
on the line.
The jackass.
He spied an empty booth near a little-used exit to the sewers and made a beeline to it, growling at a burly green-skinned demon who tried to slip into the seat ahead of Slake. The demon cursed, but one look at Slake’s arsenal of weapons peeking out from beneath his leather jacket gave the guy second thoughts. Probably third thoughts, too.
A waiter brought Slake a double whiskey, neat, and he settled in, hoping his prey would show her pretty face. In the meantime, though, he didn’t see any harm in checking out the medic at the rear of the club a little more.
That male was something special. Even his coloring was perfect. Not too tan, but not pale, and given the guy’s reddish hair, shorter in the back than in the front, Slake would bet that close up, there would be some freckles waiting for the caress of a tongue.
Slake’s mouth watered at the thought, and he had to shift to make a little more room in his leathers, but he didn’t let his lust distract him from his mission. No, not when success meant freedom…and failure meant kissing his his soul goodbye.
He downed half his drink and reached for his cell phone just as the thing vibrated in his coat pocket. The name that flashed on the text screen was exactly who he’d been wanting to hear from for days. Hoping for good news from his favorite underworld spy, he tapped out a message.
Hey, Atrox, it’s about time. Tell me you have an update on our prize
.
He waited an unbearably long time for the reply. Atrox’s fat fingers and long claws weren’t exactly compatible with touchscreen keyboards. The reptilian demon had to use his knuckles to type, which Slake had found to be funny…until lizard boy used those knuckles to knock Slake on his ass.
Finally, the phone beeped with Atrox’s incoming text.
Got a lead. One of the dudes I grilled last night is a regular at Thirst. Said he’s seen the succubus several times in the company of a male with red hair and a sleeve of tats on his right arm
.
Well, now. Slake looked up at the hot medic and grinned.
This assignment had just gotten interesting.
On behalf of 1001 Dark Nights,
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