More Than Fiends (20 page)

He loomed. And as tall as he was, looming was really effective.

“I can accept that,” he said, his dark gaze flashing with what looked to me like flames. “Just so you know, if I want you again, that spray won't stop me.”

Okay, my temperature shot up about a hundred degrees, and air was seriously hard to come by. Not to mention that my knees were weak and other parts of me were hopping up and down in eager expectation.

“And just so you know,” I told him, keeping my voice steady through sheer willpower, “you try something I don't like, and your chest is going to be air-conditioned.”

He grinned. “I shouldn't like you so much.”

“Would've made my life a hell of a lot easier, too.”

His smile faded, and those dark eyes danced with shadows and light that were so damn compelling I felt myself leaning toward him. Managed to find my balance before I flung myself at his broad chest, though, so yay me.

“Have you thought any more about what we talked about?”

I checked over my shoulder, but Carmen was still in the Tarzan room. Turning back to Devlin, I said, “Pretty much been thinking about nothing else. There's a powerful demon who wants to steal my daughter, so yeah, I've been thinking about it.”

“Any ideas on what you'd like to do?”

“Oh, a few hundred, up to and including ripping the guy's heart from his chest.”

Devlin winced a little, but nodded. “He won't be easy to get to. He's a powerful man.”

“Demon.”

“Yes.”

Okay, I knew that. The judge was pretty intimidating as a
man,
let alone as a demon. And I wasn't exactly a real experienced Duster.

“Maybe you could meet with him. Reach an agreement.”

“You mean tell him to back off Thea and I'll let him live?”

“Something like that.”

My head snapped up, and I looked him dead in the eye. “Are you trying to set up a meeting between us? Is this Double O Demon playing at being a double agent or something? Because I've seen all the movies. I know that spies can't be trusted. By anybody. If you set up a meeting, how do I know you're not just setting
me
up to get killed?”

He sucked in air, and his chest swelled to amazing proportions. The frown on his face was enough to terrify anybody else. But my daughter's life was at stake here, and it was going to take more than Mr. Scowly Face to scare me off.

Besides, he'd had a perfect opportunity to kill me—when he was lying on top of me—and he hadn't taken it. I figured I was safe. At least for the moment.

Reaching out, he grabbed my upper arms and hauled me up close to him. Okay, maybe not safe safe. Smoke lifted and twisted in the air between us as the spray came into contact with his body. But he didn't seem to mind. If it was actually burning his skin, he had some great self-control, because I couldn't see a trace of pain in his eyes. Just pissed-off male.

“I told you already. I
like
you,” he said, grinding each word out as if he were spitting bullets. “I'm working for the judge. I'm not going to help him kidnap your daughter, and I'm
not
going to let him kill you.”

I swallowed hard, and damned if I didn't feel tears at the backs of my eyes. How stupid was that? For some damn reason, I really appreciated that little speech. I only hoped I could believe it.

“Thanks,” I said when I was pretty sure the tight knot in my throat had dissolved enough to allow for speech.

His gaze was still locked on me, and I heard him sigh in exasperation. “You don't believe me.”

I thought about that for a minute. Sure, he said he was on my side, but how did I know that? Take his word? The word of the demon who had the guy who'd crashed into my car working for him? He hadn't exactly fired him or anything. How did I know that Devlin wasn't still working for the judge and just trying to keep me off guard?

How did I know that he was really a “good” demon? For all I knew, he could have been plotting against me like crazy.

“I'd like to.”

“What's stopping you?”

His hands on my arms were still tight. I could feel the imprint of his fingers on my skin, right through the fabric of my sweatshirt. And the twists of smoke were twining about our heads like misty wreaths.

“Just the demon thing,” I admitted.

Shaking his head, he said, “Guess I'll just have to find a way to convince you I can be trusted, then.”

“Firing the guy who tried to run me down like a dog would be a good start,” I pointed out.

“Firing him wouldn't help. I can't keep an eye on him if he's not here, now, can I?”

True. But how did I know that he wasn't keeping him around to make sure the demon's
next
plan worked better? Oh, I had such a headache. I just wasn't made for intrigue, you know? Give me a dirty house, and I'm your girl. Give me problems to solve, and I had to go lie down for a while.

“Fine, then,” I said on a sigh. “If you won't fire him, then how're you going to convince me to trust you?” I pulled in a gulp of air when his hands left my upper arms and moved to cup my breasts. “Oh man…” I think I actually whimpered, but I really don't want to admit that. “That is so not playing fair.”

His thumbs moved over my nipples, and despite the sweatshirt and my bra, I swear I could feel his skin on mine. My hoo-hah trembled, clearly remembering the last time we'd been here with Devlin, my legs quaked, and the edges of my vision blurred.

He smiled.

“I want you again,” he said, dipping his head to nibble at my earlobe. His teeth caught the edge of the silver hoop in my ear and gave it a tug.

Swear to God, I felt that tug all the way down to my toes.

“I…um…I…” God.
Brilliant, Cassidy. Is it any wonder you're such a freaking demon magnet?

“You want me, too,” he whispered, his breath as hot as his mouth against my neck.

“Um…I…”
Somebody
help me.

“The spray won't stop me,” he whispered, teeth nibbling at my jugular.

Jesus. He
was
just a demon, right? Not a vampire?

Did I care?

Not at the moment.

“Doesn't it hurt at least?” I moaned as his tongue swept across my skin. “The spray, I mean?”

“Burns like hell,” he admitted and grabbed my breasts in a tight, firm grip, squeezing until I was whimpering for more.

Holy crap.

The slut puppy was
back
.

Standing in a hallway of an exclusive sex club, I wanted Devlin to pull off my clothes and take me against the damn wall. Oh boy…

“Devlin—”

“Cassidy…” Carmen called for me from down the hall, and her voice was like a bucket of cold water dousing me from head to toe. I grabbed hold of Devlin's wrist and oh so reluctantly pulled him off me. Seriously, the Duster strength? Pretty impressive.

“I have to go see what she needs,” I said, backing away while I still could. I made a mental note to buy Carmen a cinnamon roll when we were finished here. She really had called me just in the nick of time. Whether she knew it or not.

His eyes narrowed, and he huffed out an impatient breath before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Fine. We'll continue this…discussion, another time.”

Oh, boy howdy. I swallowed hard, turned and walked quickly away. Frankly, I'm surprised my knees worked.

“Cass?” he said, and I stopped, swiveling my head to look at him. “Don't use the demon spray on the windows in here,” he said and gave me a half smile that jittered across every single nerve ending I had. “Some of my customers might not be as…forgiving about the scent as I am.”

“Right.” Then the hereditary Demon Duster scurried for the safety of Carmen's scowls.

 

Thea was at the mall with Zoe, and I was in the backyard training with Jasmine. The late September air was cool, and clouds were rolling in off the ocean in a thick, black bank that promised rain later. I was so damn grateful the heat was gone that I wanted to hit my knees and thank the weather gods for the reprieve.

Unfortunately, I was a little too busy.

Jasmine's sharp, dark gaze followed me as I jumped and lunged and stretched my way around the yard, feeling like an idiot. For God's sake, did it matter how much I trained? Every one of the demons in La Sombra had been demons a hell of a lot longer than I'd been a Duster.

But then I thought about Judge Jenks and his threat against Thea, and I knew that I'd have to train to be able to protect her. Unless Devlin did what he promised and set up a truce meeting with the judge.

Truce.

Was that even possible?

Did I even want a damn truce with a demon who was trying to hand off my baby girl as a sex slave? Nah. What I wanted was the old goat's disintegrating heart in my hand. Hence the stupid training.

My head was pounding, and it didn't help hearing Jasmine shouting instructions in a loud voice completely at odds with her appearance. Then Sugar started barking, and my headache blossomed into Brain Tumor mode.

Just as I turned to shout at the damn dog, though, a tall, thin woman with dark blond hair, bright red eyes and knife-blade-sharp fingernails about a mile long leaped over the white picket fence and charged me.

“Whoa!” I shrieked. And I'm not ashamed to admit it. Hey, you face down a demented woman in a paisley wrap dress determined to gouge your face off, and see if you can keep from screaming!

The bitch came at me like a freak in a horror film and shouted, “Die, you cow!”

Cow?

Excuse me?

I grabbed the closest thing at hand—Sugar's slobbery Frisbee—and pitched it at the woman, hitting her square in the throat with enough strength to dent the Frisbee and make her pause long enough to catch her breath. She gagged a little, and I used the distraction to jump
straight up
and over her. Like Wonder Woman, I'm leaping around the damn yard like I've got springs on my feet.

I heard the bitch snarl as she turned for a second go at me. She was bent over at the waist, running at me, and I hit her stomach with my shoulder, lifting her up and over me like she was a grain of salt I was throwing for good luck.

Damn, I was getting good at this. Suddenly, I wished for a video camera to capture my greatness and show to doubting Logan so maybe he'd believe me when I told him demons were running rampant in his little town.

A second later, though, I was through thinking and trying to stay one step ahead of the demon woman. She had grass clinging to her upper lip from where she'd hit the yard on her fall. She spit it out, narrowed her gaze on me and made another lunge. I swung from the shoulder, my fist hit her chin, and she flew back like somebody had a rope around her waist and gave her a good tug. Hell, my knuckles didn't even hurt.

I was good.

“Stop playing with it and kill it,” Jasmine shouted from the sidelines. I shot her a look. Backseat Duster.

Demon Woman hit the ground hard a second time, and her ugly-ass dress hitched up over her legs to show off thigh-high nylons. And she was wearing sandals. For God's sake, nobody had standards anymore.

She pushed herself up from the grass, wiped her hair out of her eyes with those dagger nails of hers, and spit out another mouthful of grass.

“Ew,” I said. “Gross out.”

“You're ruining everything!” the demon bitch spat. “He won't look at me until you're dead.”

“Hey,” I countered, “I didn't go into
your
backyard and call you a cow. I didn't even say anything about that ugly-ass dress or your tacky nylons.”

Her eyes went wider and hotter. Hard to believe, but they did. Like I said, I have this effect on people. Apparently, even on demons.

“With your death, I'll have his attention again.”

“His?” I asked, crouching and watching her every move, trying to figure out how she was going to come at me before she did it. See? I can learn. “You mean the judge, right? He's the one you want paying attention?”

“With you around,” she snarled (and here I mean actually snarled—not a pretty sound), “he thinks of nothing but you.”

“Isn't that nice?” Okay, that was enough. She was pissed, and the trick, I thought, was to make her even madder, so she'd lose control and I could win fast. Shouldn't be tough. I studied my fingernails with as much of a casual air as I could manage. “Gee, guess you're just not demon enough to keep him interested, huh?”

She spit again, and I made a mental note to hose down the yard. Demon cooties.