Читать книгу Hotter Than Hell - Jackie Kessler - Страница 13

Pushing aside memories of Jezebel, I ambled past the table where my intended sat. Grinning broadly, I shrugged my way through the crowded lounge, all swagger and confidence. A ladies’ man. Well, one lady’s man.

Finding a free spot near the fireplace, I leaned against the wall, took in the crowd—just another guy scanning the room, hunting for Ms. Right Now. Blending. Invisible, without having to pull magical strings. Around me, the throng of humans vied for attention, anyone’s attention, begging to be noticed, to be heard, to be held. To be stroked. Sucked. Fucked. Begging to feel like their lives mattered, even just for a moment. Screaming in their laughter, desperate for connection.

Sometimes, humans made it so easy.

Twenty feet away, my target sat with her companions. I studied her, drank in her face, even with it partially hidden by her curtain of curly black hair; I let my gaze roam over her torso, enjoyed the fullness of her breasts that neither her overly large sweater nor her crossed arms could camouflage. I watched, focused, flexed… marked her with my psychic signature as property of Daunuan.

Mine.

With that declaration, smells flooded over me, through me, connecting my prey to me—chocolate, jasmine, blackberries, musk. Her unique aroma, branded on my senses. It made me think of satin sheets, of bodies sliding together. My muscles tightened as I held her scent, imagined her in my arms and me in her, pictured how she’d shiver as I showered her body with new sensations.

Mine.

I’ve got you, doll.

She was laughing again, but now I heard the undercurrent to the mirth: the laughter of her companions was alcohol-inspired and carefree, but hers was a polite copy, guarded. And her bright green eyes sparkled only partially with amusement; there was something deeper there, something I couldn’t place. Yet.

Her eyes shine with passion and sorrow and rage as she begs me to kill her so she can save her man’s soul.

I snorted, batting away the image of Jezebel’s human face. For fuck’s sake, stop thinking about her. She made her choice. Focus now on your intended.

Yes, look at her: a half step behind her companions, the smile a touch too late to be spontaneous—see the way she’s sitting with her arms folded and her legs crossed and her shoulders so slightly hunched, all but screaming “keep your distance,” even though she’s out with friends and pretending to enjoy herself.

Why the mixed signals, doll?

I tuned out the rest of the sounds, the smells, of the other humans in the cigar lounge that boasted no cigars. Honing in on my target’s table, I listened, the buzz of the small group’s conversation filling my ears. The true blonde was in the middle of a passionate declaration, insisting: “…best movie I’ve ever seen!”

The bottled blonde clucked her tongue. “Come off it, Ter. You know the only reason you love it is because Matt Damon’s in it. He could be in the most boring film ever, and you’d love it because he’s in it.”

“If Matt was in it, it wouldn’t be boring.”

“Right, because you’d be too busy lusting after him to actually pay attention to the movie!” This burst of wit from the straight-haired brunette.

Blondie turned to my intended. “Back me up here, Vee. Am I really a fool for all things Matt Damon, or am I a grown-up who simply admires an amazing actor?”

“‘Admires’?” Bottled giggled. “Is that another word for ‘Lusts after and wants to have his babies’?”

My intended—Vee?—cleared her throat, smiled (but so very tightly, as if the movement pained her) and said, “Matt Damon is a fine actor.”

Blondie grinned in triumph.

Then Vee added, “But you know as well as I do, if Matt Damon ever spoke to you, you’d spontaneously combust from the rush of hormones. Or you’d drop dead on the spot.”

The other women broke up with laughter, and my target took a careful sip of the contents in her glass. A sharp tongue on her, tempered with humor. I smiled, already wondering what that tongue would feel like as it dueled with mine. Would she be commanding in bed, insisting on the position and dictating the terms of the sex? Or would she be more yielding? Did she just need the right one to tame her? Either way was fine with me. Already my cock throbbed for her. Hungered for her.

“Busted,” Bottled said. “Terri is so busted!”

The other brunette said, “Virginia, anyone who tells Terri like it is, is officially okay in my book. You’ve got to hang with us more often.”

Ah. Not Vee. Virginia. My smile stretched into a grin. Was she like Gloriana, the so-called virgin queen who claimed to see and keep silent? Perhaps she was moody, turbulent, like the suicidal Bloomsbury writer. Or maybe something between the two—a quiet passion. No matter. Whatever she’d been before this moment, all she was now was my target. My intended. My ticket to First Principal. Mine.

Virginia.

I relished the taste of her name on my tongue.

At the table, Blondie laughed. “Please, I’m just glad that I finally got Vee out to play.” She lifted her glass, saluted. “Girl, you’ve been solitary far too long.”

My target smiled, smiled hard and tight and said nothing as she sipped her drink.

So cold, Virginia. So aloof. I have just the thing to penetrate that coldness, doll, right here in my pants. I’m going to melt you, make you so hot you’re going to boil over…

I spied a harried waitress making the rounds. Telling my dick to settle down, I flagged the server. She trotted over while precariously balancing a tray full of used glasses. Sounding pissed off and put out, she barely looked at me as she asked, “Get you anything?”

You can get less uptight, for one thing.

Pursing my lips as if I meant to kiss her, I pushed. She gasped as my power licked her, tickled her sweet spot. She staggered, and I helped her steady her tray. When my fingers brushed hers, she let out an ooooh.

Heh.

As she swayed against me, I murmured in her ear: “See the woman sitting there? The brunette with long, curly hair? Send her a Sex on the Beach, with my compliments.” I pushed again, and the waitress came in her panties—a splash of spice and cotton. Mmm. “Got it, doll?”

Her voice a squeak, she said, “Yes, sir.” Then she oozed away.

Grinning, I watched Virginia as she continued her charade. The other women prattled on, filling the space between them with inane chatter. All through it, Virginia smiled, and sipped, and laughed. The pretense loomed over her like a death shroud.

I’ll strip away your cover, Virginia. I’ll thaw your body and find your core. I’ll make you call my name like it could save your soul.

Yes, doll. You’re mine. You just don’t know it.

I watched as the waitress arrived at the group’s table, a solitary drink on her tray. She settled the full glass down in front of Virginia, said something to her, then motioned my way. Five sets of eyes locked onto me.

Helloooo, ladies.

I turned on the charm and grinned—nothing too cocky, just enough playfulness to hint at mischief, to whisper of sex. Four of the women looked intrigued, and two of them licked their lips. But the one who mattered looked surprised…and annoyed.

Annoyed? Well, that’ll change.

The waitress slid away, leaving Virginia and her companions to stare at me. Unabashed, I stared back, focused on my intended. After thousands of years tempting mortals, I knew the game well, had memorized its complex rules. Now’s the part where the others will leave us alone…

“I have to powder my nose,” Blondie said. “Who’s coming?”

Bottled and Brunette stood quickly, and even Virginia scraped her chair back, but Blondie shook her head. “No way, Vee. You stay. Guard the table from the vultures. And the foxes.” She paused long enough to send me a lusty look, then turned back to Virginia. “Enjoy your drink.”

“But—”

“Get his phone number,” Bottled said.

“Find out if he has a friend,” Brunette added, slyly glancing my way.

I would have winked at her, but I didn’t want her to think she had a chance with me. I had eyes only for my Virginia.

“Terri, don’t you dare leave me!” She sounded on the verge of panic. Sweet.

Blondie smiled at her, a look filled with sympathy and barely contained glee. “Nature calls. Come on, girls!” The three strutted away, giggling, leaving my intended alone.

Virginia lowered her head so that her thick curls hid her face. Her shoulders bobbed in a deep sigh—she was either resigned or vexed. That’s something I planned to change; soon she’d be sighing with pleasure. Anticipation.

Boom boom.

My blood humming with her name, I sauntered over to my intended. My lady. Wrapped in her overlarge sweater and hidden by her hair, she seemed to seek invisibility. Why so nervous, doll? Why hide your juicy body, your porcelain face?

Start with the direct approach. That should get her to open up, just a little—just enough to talk. Yes, Virginia. I’ll talk to you for a few minutes, feel you out before I know what Hook I need to feel you up. What’ll tickle your fancy, Virginia? Will a glimpse of my body make your heartbeat quicken? If my gaze hits you like a laser beam, smoldering with intention, will your reservations burn away? Will it be the casual touch of my hand on yours?

Every mortal has a Hook, Virginia. What’s yours?

“Hope you like Sex on the Beach,” I said as a greeting.

She peeked up at me, shook her hair away from her face. Her eyes telegraphed her unease; her smile was forced, and fragile, and so fucking delicious to look at that I wanted to eat her lips.

“Thank you,” she said, striving for Miss Manners. “I’m flattered. But I’m not interested.”

Ooh, hard to get. I softened my smile, put a chuckle in my voice as I said, “In the drink or the activity?”

“Neither.”

“You accepted the drink.”

She sighed again, this time a sound of frustration. “The waitress walked away before I could say no thanks.” She spoke with infinite patience. “So really, thanks, but no thanks.”

“You didn’t exactly try to stop her.”

Her smile slipped. “Look, you seem like a nice guy.”

Heh. Her intuition sucked. “But?”

“But the only reason I’m even out tonight is to do my friend a favor. I’m not looking to get picked up. So thank you for the drink, but really, I’m not interested.”

I straddled the chair to her left, sat and hunkered over the backrest so that my coat gaped open. All the better to let her envision the sculpted muscles beneath my shirt. Except she didn’t even meet my gaze, let alone stare at my body. Instead, she played with her drink—the one she’d been working on before I’d ordered her another—swirling the ice cubes almost violently.

“I think you’re interested,” I said with a smile. “More than you know.”

She stopped toying with her drink. Still not meeting my eyes, she said, “I think you don’t know me at all.”

Whoops. Deflect the damage. Grin on, full strength. “But I’d like to.”

That got her to look at me. Her green eyes shone with emotions I couldn’t place. Why did mortals have to complicate everything with stupid feelings?

She asked, “Why? Just because I’m sitting here, in a bar, that means I’m looking to hook up?”

“No. But you not saying no to a drink says you’re looking for something.”

She pushed the full glass to me. “There. Happy?”

Far from it. Still didn’t know how to Hook her. “Come on, doll. Let’s not be so hasty.”

“Hasty? Hasty would be me saying ‘go away.’ I haven’t said that yet.”

“Yet?”

“I’m trying to be polite.”

“Yeah, I see that.” I leaned over, invaded her personal space until my mouth was barely inches away from hers. “I’ve been watching you trying to have a good time. Pretending you’re enjoying yourself.”

Virginia shied away from me, but not before I saw the indignity on her face. Apparently, she didn’t like hearing the truth. Humans rarely did.

Turning to the wall, she said, “Now it’s time for you to go away.”

“Oh, Virginia, I haven’t even started yet. Don’t I get to at least do a decent pickup line before you break my heart?”

A pause. Then: “How do you know my name?”

“I listen. I watch.” I smiled my good intentions.

“Great. Now you’re a stalker.”

“Nope. Just a horny little devil.”

She turned to look at me over her shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“I’m a regular demon of love.” Even though I wasn’t supposed to, I pushed, just a little, just enough to make her knees unlock and loosen the stick so firmly rammed up her ass. But instead of an ohhhh or a parting of her lips or even a slight widening of her eyes, she looked even more frigid.

Shit, that’s right—humans meant for Heaven aren’t affected by the nefarious. Unless she kissed me willingly to kick-start my gigolojo, she’d be completely unaffected by my demonic charm.

Well, so what? I’ve been doing this routine for Hell only knows how long. Flirting with mortals is as easy as a starving whore. Who needed magic when you had the moves? “Come on, doll. Let’s talk some, see if we click.” I patted my thigh. “Why don’t you sit on my lap, see what pops up.”

“Does that shtick actually work on real women? Or has all your experience been with the plastic variety?”

“Kiss me,” I purred, “and I’ll show you what you’ve been waiting for all your prim and proper life.”

Her jaw clenched before she turned away again. “Trust me, you’re not the one I’m waiting for.” She folded in on herself—shoulders hunched, head lowered, hair hanging. “You’re nothing like him. Go away. Please.”

Nothing like her ultimate lover? I do believe that I’m insulted. “Doll, you’re so frigid, the ice caps are jealous.”

She stiffened. Then she turned to face me again, slowly, a beatific smile on her kissable face. Did my quip Hook her? Didn’t feel right, but who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I returned the smile, winked. Virginia reached for the drink I’d ordered for her, lifted it up in a toast—and threw the contents in my face.

“I’ve returned your drink,” she said sweetly.

That could have gone better.

Outside the bar, I zapped the dripping mess off of me; with the right amount of heat aura in place, alcohol evaporates pretty damn quickly. Did nothing for the smell, though—I was drowning in cranberries, grapefruits, schnapps and vodka. Fuck me, I stank like a coed on Spring Break. Minus the sex. All thanks to my intended, who had the gall to toss her drink in my face. Who didn’t find me remotely appealing. Who dared suggest I wasn’t even close to being her fantasy lover.

Unholy Hell, what a woman. I couldn’t wait to taste her soul.

Grinning through the stink of fruit juice, I willed my form to dim, fade into nighttime shadow. Invisible, reeking of inebriation, I waited for my lady. I reached out, felt my mark on her. Sensed her talking to someone she held close, a good friend. Listened as Virginia said…

“…he was an asshole. He deserved it.”

“Jesus, Vee, a guy shows some interest, what do you do? You give him a beer shampoo.”

“It was a Sex on the Beach.”

“Honey, there are better things to do with a Sex on the Beach than spill it over some guy’s head. Especially a hottie like that.”

A whiff of frustration before Virginia spoke again. “I’m leaving. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Aw, Vee, don’t be like that.”

“Look, I appreciate what you’re doing and all, but it’s time for me to go home.”

“Why? So you can mope?”

A strained pause, filled with tension and bitterness. “Don’t go there, Terri.”

No, Terri. Go there.

Stretching away from Virginia for a moment, I let my power brush over her friend’s presence, encouraged her to lower her inhibitions. That’s right, Terri. Feel the alcohol coursing through you, relaxing you, loosening your tongue, allowing you to say…

“I’m the only one who will, you know. Everyone else tap dances around it, like just talking about Chris is going to break you into pieces. But you’re stronger than that. How long’re you going to be a martyr?”

A flash of pain so raw, it stole my breath.

“You’re only thirty-five, Vee. That’s too young to stop living your life.”

I felt Virginia’s pain crack, then shatter in a sea of ice. Felt her heart freeze, her face settle into a tight, emotionless mask.

What had hurt you so brutally, Virginia?

And how could I use that to my advantage?

She sniffed, a sound of derision that would do any angel proud. She said, “I’m going home now. To mope.”

“Oh, come on, Vee! Virginia, I’m sorry! Come back!”

Too late—my lady was storming out of the bar. Obviously tortured. Probably needed a strong shoulder to cry on. No worries, doll. I’ve got the strongest shoulders this side of Creation.

She breezed out, booted feet tripping down the steps. An enormous winter coat disguised her curves, buried those magnificent breasts in layers of padding and synthetic fibers. Her thick curls were momentarily tamed, tucked into a hood. With every layer of clothing she begged not to be noticed. I wondered about the shape of her legs, how they’d look stripped from those loose pants…how they’d feel as I ran my hands between her thighs.

The wind kicked up, and she ducked her head as she marched past me, leaving me with a vague impression of cold fury—a blaze of green eyes, a slash of pale lips.

Damn, there’s nothing like a woman when she’s angry.

Your emotions are sky-high, aren’t they, doll? Bet you’d be more receptive now to certain…suggestions. Going home, are you? Well then, I’ll just have to make sure you get there safe and sound. I left my post by the stairs and started walking after her. Stalking her.

Thinking about what line to use to Hook her interest, I trailed my intended, weaving around the handful of stray mortals between me and her. Three blocks down, Virginia walked into a public parking lot. I followed, watched her duck between aisles until she stopped in front of a blue-gray car. As she fumbled in her shoulder bag, I noted her vehicle’s make and the license plate. Nondescript, like how she tried to be—boring car, no vanity plates. No frills. So frantic for anonymity. But I’d found her, marked her, shredded her feeble attempts to be unnoticed.

You can’t escape me, Virginia. I’ll make sure you thoroughly enjoy yourself, despite yourself. I’ll make your body sing with pleasure before you sing out my name.

As she pulled out her keys, I glided forward, maneuvering around a purple-clad Amazon hefting a tote bag. I could have done the incorporeal thing and just slid through the human, but that always left me feeling itchy, jonesing for a stint in a mortal body. And while possession was a kick, my target was on the move—I didn’t have the luxury of wallowing in stolen flesh, not if it meant losing Virginia. Much simpler to be invisible and walk around organic obstacles. Once Virginia opened her car door, I’d morph into ghost form and duck into the backseat. And when she started the engine, I’d switch back to invisibility, enjoy the ride.

And when we were home, I’d start the seduction in earnest.

I heard a buzzing in my head, but I ignored it as I followed my intended. The things I’m going to do to you, Virginia. The things I’m going to show you…

Two rows away from her car, I heard footsteps coming up behind me, fast and close. I turned to look over my shoulder—

—and caught a heavy tote bag full in the face. My head snapped back and I lost my footing, stumbled. Fuck me, that hurt!

“Tag!” a woman’s voice chirped. “You’re it!”

I sensed the next swing before it connected. Down! I dropped into a crouch, and the tote bag whistled over the space where my head had just been.

Looming over me, the Amazon grinned like a madwoman. Had to be insane; that was the only way she could see me in this form.

“Crazy bitch, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Beating a dog.” She dropped her bag, plucked something out of her long blond hair. “Bad dog. Got a bone to pick with you.”

“Doll,” I said, coming to stand full height, “you just made a serious mistake.” I didn’t like killing women (unless they were my clients), but if one of them attacked me, all bets were off. Still, I didn’t want to call too much attention my way; Virginia was getting into her car, and other mortals could enter the parking lot at any time. Last thing I needed was having to entrance humans and screw with their memories. That always gave me a migraine.

Backing up a step, I decided I’d do it quietly. Make the Amazon’s body erupt with pleasure so strong, she’d fall to the ground, helpless, a puddle of limbs and vaginal fluid. And then I’d rip out her soul.

“That’s right, doggy,” the Amazon said, and that’s when I saw her red-rimmed eyes. “Dance with Uvall. Let’s do this the right way.”

Shit. One of the Arrogant elite, possessing a Brigitte Nielsen lookalike.

Couldn’t fault the taste in mortal bodies, but the timing really sucked. To say nothing of the circumstances. “You’re strutting on thin ice, Haughty bitch. Attacking me without cause’ll get you years of red tape.”

“So you think.”

“You even try to tap into your power, the lower-downs’ll be all over you.”

“Don’t need magic to put down a dog.”

Uvall lunged forward, something gleaming in her fist. I blocked her swing, but not enough to keep her weapon from grazing my arm. Minor scrape. Her other fist connected with my neck, and I grunted as something pierced my skin. A sting, and then a long scratch of pain. I hissed through clenched teeth, and my invisibility blinked off.

She grinned. “Burns, doesn’t it?”

I grabbed her hand and pulled it away from my throat. The weapon—a silver comb—was bloody, and one of the tines had snapped off. Probably still in my neck. But that wasn’t why it felt like fire ants were searing me with tiny bites. In my palm, her fist trembled; the large diamond ring on her finger sliced between my knuckles. I growled, deep and low, as rage tore through me.

With her free hand, Uvall plunged the teeth of another silver comb deep into my chest. I barely noticed the new hole in my body; my neck stung, and my fucking hand was on fire.

She smiled, a triumphant look etched onto her human host’s face. Then I grabbed her other wrist, and her triumph was replaced with confusion. And a hint of fear.

“I got your heart,” she said. “You should be on the ground, in agony. Dying slow.”

“Want me on the ground, bitch? You bet.” I slammed my forehead into hers, then shoved her to the ground. She landed flat on her back, stunned. I pounced on her—straddled her hips and pinned her arms.

Bishop’s balls, I was hurting. My cheek and nose throbbed; if I were mortal, the bones would have been fractured, the flesh swollen. A flash of heat aura evaporated the pieces of comb stuck in my neck and chest, replacing that pressure with an unpleasant numbness. The scratch on my throat burned, but that was already fading. Worst of all was my left hand—it was bleeding steadily, made the woman’s wrist slick beneath my grasp.

“Silver,” she said, her voice slow, thick. Uvall clearly wasn’t long for the human body. “Combs…are silver.”

“I noticed.”

“Should be dying.”

I leaned over her, whispered: “Newsflash, Haughty: silver isn’t my weakness.”

She let out a sound, half-growl, half-whimper.

“You know,” I said, “after attacking me without cause, I could lay claim on this human, steal her soul away from Pride. And when all the paperwork comes in, the story would spread how Uvall, Duke of Hell, had attacked the incubus Daunuan…and lost. Bet that would bite you on the ass, wouldn’t it?”

She bucked beneath me, tried to shake me off. But I wasn’t going anywhere. Neither was she. I blew her a kiss. “You’ll be a laughingstock.”

“Kill you!”

“Why? What’d I do to you?”

Her eyes gleamed with malice and secrets. “You’ll never know.”

Screw me, what was it with demons wanting to kill me tonight?

In my mind, the Berserker’s taunting voice: Would be telling.

Shit. My stomach clenched as I realized there was something brewing, something big. “You were told to attack me. You and the Berserker both.”

She said nothing, watched me as I tried to piece it together.

“What’s going on, Uvall?”

“Piss off, dog. I don’t answer to you.”

“Tell me, or I’ll let the Pridelands know about your failure.” I made sure to drawl the word. The only thing worse than an eternity of agony to one of the Proud was owning up to failure.

The demon grinned. “I know something you don’t know.”

Fuck this.

I released one of her arms to grab her by the top of her head, tangling her blond hair in my fingers. With a growl, I raised her head up, then slammed it down. A delicious crunch as the back of her head connected hard with the ground. Her eyes rolled up, and her body went limp beneath mine. Lights out, doll. She was still breathing; I’d pulled back at the last second to keep from shattering her skull. If I can’t kill a woman with lust, it’s not worth my time.

In a pop of burning sulfur, Uvall exited the host body.

Silver. I shook my head, snorted my disgust. Where’d the Haughty get such shoddy information? I practically flossed with silver.

The fading roar of a car’s motor told me Virginia had just left. And I had no idea where she was going—where she lived, what her last name was. Nothing.

Bloody fucking Hell.

Maybe her friends were still at the bar; one of them would have information on my intended. Information that I needed. Badly. But the way tonight was going, they’d be long gone before I got back to the pub.

The Amazon lay on the ground, dead to the world. Lucky bitch. If I didn’t loathe paperwork, she’d be dead, period. I stared at her face, debated whether I should slice off her nose, just for spite. The air crackled with the stink of spent magic and burning blood.

Ah, let it go. Uvall can have her. I wasn’t one for sloppy seconds.

I stood up, shook out my limbs. My hand was still bleeding, but the flow had slowed to a trickle. It would stop soon enough. My face, neck and chest were already mostly healed; in a few more minutes, they’d be perfect. But my hand would be sore for the better part of a day. I flexed my fingers, winced. Glancing at the diamond ring on the Amazon’s hand, I realized just how bad it could have been.

Uvall’s attack meant one thing. What happened earlier tonight, at my client’s house, had been no accident.

If it had been other Seducers trying for a piece of me, I would’ve shrugged that off as Callistus being pissed off at getting passed over for Prince of Lust. But whatever was happening was big enough to score a demon from Wrath and an elite from Pride, set them after me with murder on their minds. They wouldn’t help one of Lust’s scorned principals; if anything, Wrath and Pride would get a huge chuckle seeing dissention in the Heartlands.

No, whatever was happening, it was bigger than Callistus trying to pull a Machiavelli.

Someone in Hell had set me up.

And fuck me, I had no idea who…or why.