Satan's Sword (Imp Book 2) (27 page)

Others can hold a human form, but only exactly as it was when they Owned it. So if they Owned a man in his nineties who was unable to walk, had erectile dysfunction, and wrinkles like a bulldog, then that is the only way they could put the form together. That‘s why most demons tended to Own healthy, attractive, young people. It was good for them to be old enough to have a lot of life experience, but not so old that they had chronic incontinence or arthritis.

It took special skill to be able to assimilate the information from those that you Owned and choose how to present their form. I had this skill. I’d taken Samantha Martin when she was twenty. Younger than my preference, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I could create her form as an eight year old, or as an eighty year old, even though she’d never lived to be that age. I could create her form without scars, correct injuries and genetic abnormalities, even modify the form within some parameters.

Looking at the blond woman in the mirror, I enlarged her breasts. I didn’t want them to be ridiculous, but today’s fashion demanded a larger bosom than this woman’s genetics allowed for. Satisfied, I walked naked into the main room of the suite to grab a beer from the mini bar.

I was just pulling out a bottle when the door rattled and Wyatt walked in.

“I’ve got that bag with the timeshare stuff you wanted.” He turned to close the door behind him. “I sincerely hope you’re not going to make me sit through one of those four hour meetings just so you can score a fruit basket.”

Spinning around, he stared open-mouthed as he saw a tall, gorgeous, naked blond grabbing a beer out of the mini bar. The look on his face was priceless. Embarrassment, appreciation, confusion.

“Oh, sorry. Wrong room.” He looked around, obviously confused as to why his key worked and why this did indeed appear to be his room. I laughed.

“It’s me silly.” I put my arms above my head and modeled the form with a swing of my hips. “You like?”

“Sam? Is that new? Where have you been hiding that? Not exactly stealthy, you realize. Everyone who sees you is going to remember you.”

I pouted slightly and gave Wyatt a sultry look. His eyes went from my mouth down to the boobs and further. Clearly his mind was detouring rapidly.

“I don’t plan on walking through the lobby naked, you know. In fact, I don’t plan on walking through the lobby like this at all,” I told him.

“I’m hoping you don’t plan on leaving the room,” Wyatt said, his voice husky with desire. “At least for an hour or two.”

I walked over to him and kissed him lightly, pushing away the hands that grabbed to pull me close. “Later,” I teased. “Can you stay in the room for the night and cover for me while I give my minder the slip? I know you’ve got an early morning, maybe you can get caught up on some sleep?”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to get to sleep at all tonight.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Five minutes, Sam. That’s all I’m asking here is five minutes.”

“Later.” I bent over to pick up the canvas bag of timeshare materials he’d tossed on the floor, making sure to give him a full view just to taunt him further. I hadn’t realized how much human men enjoyed diversity in physical form. I’d need to let Wyatt fuck me as all my Owned females. It would take years.

“So you really think you can ditch your minder?” he asked me, still eying my breasts. “There’s a rather large guy, a vampire I’d guess, lurking around our room in the hallway. I can’t imagine you’d give him the slip no matter what form you assumed. Plus this place is covered in cameras. None in our room, but there’s one right outside pointed at the door.”

“Our escape plans hinge on me being able to somehow sneak out. I don’t know how things are going to go down with the vampires, and there are two demons here determined to grab me right after my meeting on Sunday.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to confront the demons here? If we run, they’re more likely to ambush us. I thought you’d want to take the offensive?” Wyatt asked.

“I could probably only take out one before I lost the element of surprise. I’m not sure who the vampires would support if I attacked a demon and we blew up part of their business interest. Having them gunning for me would seriously hurt my chances. Plus, one of the demons is very strong, with a lot of experience in bringing in captives. I’d rather face him at home with Boomer and Diablo to back us up.”

Wyatt nodded thoughtfully, watching me as I pulled some clothes out of the dresser drawer.

“Hey, those are my clothes,” Wyatt protested. “I didn’t pack those”

Humans were so slow on the uptake.

“I grabbed them from your closet back home. If I lose them or ruin them, I promise I’ll replace them.” I’d replace them with better clothes then the stained t-shirt and worn jeans I’d grabbed.

“I like those jeans,” Wyatt warned. “And there’s no way they’d fit you, either in your regular form or the one you’ve got on right now. Which is totally hot, by the way,” he added, his eyes roving over me.

I looked at Wyatt and with a grin, quickly popped out of my tall, blond female form and into one that was as close as I could come to Wyatt’s without actually Owning him. He stared at me in shock.

“I didn’t think you could do that unless you Owned someone? Did you kill me and I don’t remember it?”

“No, no,” I reassured him. “You’re still alive.”

I’d explored so much of him, touched and held so much of his genetic composition, that I was pretty confident in my ability to fake an imitation. It was far from perfect. Without his memories, his emotions, his personality, it would only be a cheap copy.

He looked at me carefully, walking around the naked copy of his flesh. “I think I need to work out more.”

“You’re perfect.” I kissed him. He recoiled. I guess it wasn’t very sexy to be kissing yourself.

“Vampires don’t give humans a second glance, they are just an animated dinner as far as they are concerned. I’m betting Mario won’t follow me at all if he thinks you’re the one who has left the room. I’ll pack a change of clothes and some makeup and heels in the timeshare bag he saw you come in with and change form in another casino. Hopefully they’ll never know I’ve left.”

Understanding sparked in Wyatt’s eyes. “What do you plan on doing with your night out on the town?”

I shrugged. “I’m thinking of smacking the bee’s nest with a big stick and seeing what happens.”

Wyatt grinned. “I’d guess that bees are going to come out and sting you rather painfully.”

“Yep.” I stuffed heels, a dress, and a small make-up bag into the canvas sack. “But a few stings might be worth it. If I’m going to get out of here in one piece, I need to know all I can about how they handle things. Especially how they handle an unruly demon.”

“Okay.” He backed up as I went to kiss him again. “I’ll stay here for the night, safely out of sight in the room, but you seriously need to have sex with me as that blond woman. Deal?”

“Deal,” I told him, heading out the door.

Mario glanced at me as I passed as if I were just another random guest. I wondered if he even recognized Wyatt as my human, or if they all looked the same to him at this point.

Grinning to myself, I took the elevator down and strolled right out the front door, past all the staff, past the bell hops, past the doormen. Home free. I walked a few doors down, slipped into another casino, bought a drink, and then strolled into the men’s bathroom casually holding my canvas timeshare bag like a tourist out for an evening stroll. I peed in the urinal, just to enjoying urinating while standing, then disintegrated the screws holding the cover on the air conditioning vent. I left the vent cover on, went into a stall, and stripped, quickly popping into the tall blond form that Wyatt had so admired. A tube-like, skin-tight dress slipped over my lithe body, and I stepped out of the stall. I was putting on make-up in the mirror when a man walked in, doing a double take as he caught sight of me.

“Oh, sorry. I thought this was the men’s room.” He looked at the open door in confusion. It clearly said ”Men.” I giggled like I’d had too much to drink and faked a thick accent.

“Oh no. I am not so good at reading right now.” I batted my long, mascara-dark lashes at him and tossed my waist length, blond hair. “It’s okay for you to be here. I want to finish my make-up.”

He looked me over slowly, still holding the door open in indecision, his brain working through the alternatives. He could try to pee in front of me, or he could go into a stall. Or he could stay and chat me up. Fear and insecurity won over, and, making his apologies, he left the bathroom. Human men were so strange sometimes.

Finishing my make-up, I stashed the canvas bag with Wyatt’s clothes, along with the cosmetics, in the air conditioning vent, making sure to seal it back up. Then I strutted out of the men’s room. Every eye in the place swiveled to follow me as I made my way across the floor.

After a couple hands of blackjack, quite a few people had begun to follow me as I meandered around the casino, and I ensured the security cameras caught me on their tape. Then I headed out and asked a doorman to hail me a cab to the club Wyatt had indicated was the latest hot spot.

Bon Chance was tucked away in the warehouse district in an old import/export wholesaler’s building. The exterior was chipped cement block with sprayed graffiti announcing the club’s name. It looked like it was about to collapse down on the patrons’ heads. There was a line a block long snaking between the side of the building and a ratty velvet rope. I stepped out of the cab and walked right up to the bouncer, who promptly moved the rope and let me in. No one protested. Evidently six foot tall, blond supermodels got to line bust. Inside, everything shocked the senses. The outside was dilapidated, but on the interior, no expense was spared. Lights flashed across the huge dance floor which sat nestled partially under a raised dais. Off to the side behind glass was the DJ, barely visible in contrast with the sensory overload of the rest of the club.

Two bars ran the span of the converted warehouse on either side of the dance floor. Mahogany and gilded marble covered the bar, the walls, the floor. It was a strange mix of modern and classic, of rich natural materials and steel girders. Everything jarred visually in a dizzying confusion.

I strolled with confidence up to the center of one of the bars and pointedly ignored the bartender. He immediately raced over to take my order. As he went to get my chilled, herb-infused vodka, I eyed the other patrons. The women nearby were trying hard not to stare at me. They’d glance and then turn back to their companions whispering. A few eyed me boldly. The men were even more amusing. They stared with a combination of lust and fear on their faces. I wondered if I’d overdone it in choosing this form. Maybe it was just too intimidating? Beyond reach of most human’s confidence?

Picking up my drink, I meandered around the club, noticing how the humans carefully stepped away from me and then followed me with their eyes. I wasn’t sure what trouble I could get into. I didn’t think that making them all want hot wings would attract the vampire’s attention. I could try making them all want sex, but that wouldn’t be out of place in a club like this. An orgy was beyond my skill. I wasn’t exactly a Succubus. A brawl? Or maybe I could throw some electricity around and explode all the light fixtures in a shower of deadly sparks. Lost in my thoughts, I screeched to a halt and stared as I noticed the man about ten feet away dancing with a dark-haired beauty. He looked like Wyatt. He looked a lot like Wyatt.

Suddenly the predator in me reared after years of careful control. I wanted Wyatt, had wanted to Own him ever since I’d met him, but I’d restrained myself. I couldn’t allow myself to Own Wyatt. I knew that destroying his physical form and gathering his being within me would be a hollow pleasure. I cared for Wyatt so much that having him constantly with me, but not individual, not autonomous, would destroy me.

I needed to Own. It’s what we demons do. I hadn’t Owned a human in so long; the craving was almost as painful as the craving to kill, to devour. This man right in front of me looked so much like Wyatt that he might make a good substitute. Might ease that aching hole of need inside me, not just to Own Wyatt, but to Own any human I could. And it would certainly piss off the vampires, throw them into a tizzy. It was perfect.

But Owning was on Gregory’s forbidden things list. The vampires should be able to cover up my planned kill tomorrow night, but they might not be able to cover up an Own. Plus, I wasn’t sure how much Gregory could sense with all this fucking shit of his networked throughout me. Reluctantly, I turned and walked away. I made it five steps.

Fuck it. I’m a demon. And getting the crap beat out of me by Gregory and the angels was probably a whole lot better than what Haagenti had in mind for me. This guy was
mine
.

I sent out the suggestion, light and airy into the room. Others around me caught the ambient effects and began to look at the humans beside them with a hunger, with an interest. I pulled and the man who looked like Wyatt turned to me.
Want, want, want
, I called silently. I tried to keep it gentle, tried to keep it subtle. The man excused himself from his dance partner and approached me.

It was so easy. So simple. I danced with the man, let him buy me a few drinks, let him take me to his place. Owned him. Killed him. I made it pleasant for him; one of the best sensory experiences he’d ever had. I’d kissed and fondled him, letting him do the same to me. I’d carefully sent tendrils of my energy in and heightened an orgasm through the lovely bundle of nerves in his genitals. He’d looked at me unseeing, with the glazed look of ecstasy, as I pulled and firmly ripped him from his very cells and into my being. I don’t think he even realized I had him, ever realized that he was dead.

I should have been satisfied. I felt worse, collapsing on the floor, overcome by the empty ache I had never in my whole life been able to fill. This was a terrible mistake. It made me long for Wyatt even more. It made me feel strangely guilty for betraying the promise I’d made to Gregory. I felt hungry, unfulfilled, ashamed.