bedeviled & beyond 02 - bedeviled & bedazzled (15 page)

I hit the stone steps down to Alcott’s office just behind Dialle, still muttering and tugging. The fire engine red shoes with the four inch spiked heels caused me to totter dangerously on each step as I followed him down.

If I fall and break my neck because of these damn shoes you might feel bad.
I thought at him furiously.

I would never allow you to fall and break anything, my princess.

Well then you’d better prepare yourself to catch me now, Dialle, because I’m goin’ down these stairs either head or butt first if I don’t get rid of these stupid torture devices on my feet.

Just like that the shoes were gone and I was wearing soft, leather boots that reached to just below my knees. I smiled in the dark.
Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!

Dialle’s low chuckle gave me a jolt in the general vicinity of the tacky lace thong. I scowled as we emerged from the badly lit stairs into the dim horror of Alcott’s haven.

At least my fashion woes had kept my mind off of what I was about to face. Small consolation.

Prince Dialle stopped about five feet from the bottom of the roughly chiseled stone steps and I stopped just behind him.

Tugging my bustier up and my skirt down, I tried to look like a badass. Not easy given the fact that I was dressed like a bad wet dream.

Alcott was not lounging in his ugly throne and the underground room was not filled to burstin’ with ugly bad guys. Things were much improved from the last time Dialle and I had visited the demon king.

Two Guards of Dis stood a few feet away from Alcott and I sensed two others in the shadows behind us. Not bad odds at all for Dialle and me should we need to fight our way out of the room.

The demon king stood several feet away with his arm hanging straight down his sides. His black, featureless face was immobile, his long form relaxed and swathed in black silk robes. Nothing about him gave away his feelings. He was a walking poker face.

I waited, deciding that, since the meeting had been called between the royals and the demons, I was just there to witness the event. And witness it I would.

Unfortunately, Alcott wasn’t going to allow me to fade into the background just yet. “Exploring alternative lifestyles, Mx. Phelps?”

The demon king’s head lowered as if he were sliding his gaze down my body, assessing my fashion statement.

I forced myself to smile as if his inference that I’d taken up street mating as a new career hadn’t bothered me a whit. Inside I was steaming.

“My mother always told me to dress according to the company I would keep, Alcott.” I followed this with an innocent shrug.

Alcott chuckled and gave me a slight nod in reverence to my wit. At least I thought that was what the nod was about. Who ever knew what a demon was thinking?

I will definitely get even with you for this, Dialle.

My royal devil chose to ignore me. Instead he kept his midnight gaze and full attention turned on our demon host.

“Alcott, leader of the demon race, I, Dialle the Second, Prince of the Royal Devil Court and son of King Dialle the First, leader of all the dark world, am here to offer you an audience with the true king of all creatures below Heaven.”

I turned to him, my poker face a distant memory.

Dialle had spoken in formal Court dialect. Which meant that King Dialle’s “offer” was actually a royal command.

It was a double edged sword.

On the one hand King Dialle was ostensibly offering Alcott exactly what he’d demanded. An audience with King Dialle. On the other hand, he was putting the demon king smack back into his proper place at the table by basically decreeing his acquiescence.

Quite a conundrum for the monochromatic critter who would be king.

Alcott stood completely motionless for several beats. Finally his head tilted to the side in question. “The king has agreed to come to Demonica?”

Dialle snorted. “Do not insult the king’s intelligence, Alcott. You will go to him. Alone.”

If Alcott had been capable of sputtering I was pretty sure he’d have done it at that moment. Everyone in that room knew a trip alone into King Dialle’s Court was a death sentence for the demon leader.

But if he refused it was an incontrovertible declaration of war against the Royal Court. Delusional as Alcott obviously was and power hungry to boot, I doubted he was stupid enough to want to insult King Dialle the First directly.

I waited silently to hear how he would dig himself out of the predicament he was in.

Alcott thought about it for a moment and then nodded slowly. “I will of course be allowed to bring guards.”

Dialle waved his hand dismissively. “You may bring six guards with you. No more. We will inform you through Torre when the king can see you. You will kill no more humans while you await your audience with the king.”

Alcott stood silently while Dialle and I turned to leave. My mind searched frantically for a face to go with the name.

Torre. I knew I’d heard that name before.

As Dialle and I emerged back into the dim light of the nightclub above, I asked. “Who’s Torre?”

Dialle turned and grabbed me, pulling me up hard against his body. He lowered his face and grazed my lips with his. Then he trailed a hot, nimble tongue down my chin, where he nibbled a bit before answering the question his activities had already made me forget.

“He’s the bartender here.”

Oh yeah. I remembered him. He was working the bar at Demonica the night I had my first audience with Abrine, Alcott’s newly deceased brother and the previous demon king.

Dialle replaced teeth with lips and sucked my chin until I thought I might start panting.

“He’s a royal spy.”

His hands clasped my butt under the worthless scrap of red leather, pulling me more tightly into his happy place.

“And he’s my brother.”

I gasped in surprise.

Then suddenly we were locked in time and space again. And, I had to limit my reaction to forming rapid fire questions in my mind.

When we landed in my office Dialle’s lips were on mine before I could question him about the bombshell he’d dropped on me at Demonica.

I pushed on his chest until our lip lock broke with a soft sucking sound, intending to question him, but he shimmered away before I could form the words.

I stomped my foot in frustration and screamed. “Damnable devil, come the hell back here!” I spun around, prepared to indulge in a proper snit, and found myself face to face with Emo. I jumped and blinked. “Oh!”

His face did not look happy. “Astra.”

I was in no mood for his...mood. “Stop sneaking up on me, dammit! Everybody is always sneaking up on me and grabbing me and shifting me to He knows where in my slippers...”

Emo followed me into my office and leaned against the door frame as I plopped myself behind my desk. He was watching me very intently and it took me a minute to figure out why. Suddenly I realized what I looked like. Damn, why hadn’t Dialle taken me back home? I scowled up at Emo, daring him to make a snide remark about my street strumpet outfit.

“Why are you dressed like a corner stander, Astra?”

Well that was just peachy! I got no respect...from anyone. I stood back up and started to stalk past Emo. “I’m going home. I’ll be back later.”

I tried to push past him at the door and he grabbed my arm, pulling me around to face him and dragging my stiff, unyielding body up against his. He lowered his face until I could taste his breath on my lips. He tasted of Chinese takeout from down the street.

“Why do you let him yank you around and involve you in his messes, Astra?” He lowered his face even closer to mine. I felt a warm pool of anticipation gathering itself in my lower regions and pressed my thighs together in self-defense.

“Let me go, Emo.”

His lips were only a whisper away from mine and he just stayed there, breathing heavily as if he were trying to gain control of some deep emotion. I stared up at him, feeling like my inordinate fear of what he would do next was glaringly evident in my over wide eyes.

I waited.

He breathed and tensed.

Finally he let me go and stepped out of my way. But as I pushed past him he said, “You have no business being involved in this, Astra. You
will
get hurt.”

I stopped in my tracks and closed my eyes, breathing deeply in an attempt to regain control of an overpowering urge to kill and maim. So far my day had been a particularly nasty contender for entry into the shitty day book.

When I felt as if I could speak to him without pulling out his nails I turned around and said, “Tell me why everyone wants me off this case, Emo. Right now.”

He stared at me for a couple of beats and then shrugged. His eyes told me he wasn’t as nonchalant as he was pretending to be. Emo and I had been close friends for nearly our whole lives. If anyone knew me and my moods, he did. So I was betting that he knew the razor fine line I was currently walking with my temper. Yet he refused to answer my question.

Instead he stood there, his beautiful black eyes focused on me as if I were a particularly volatile explosive device.

“Tell me right now Emo or you’re fired.” I almost gasped aloud as soon as I said the words but I couldn’t take them back.

I thought I saw him wince but he recovered too quickly for me to be sure.

In a contest of wills Emo and I were strongly matched. I knew what I’d just done was a fatal mistake. But it was one that would have to play itself out.

Emo would never back down.

I would never back down.

Stubborn R Us.

We stared at each other for several moments and then, finally, my best friend and partner nodded once and started toward the door.

I reached out to him as he passed me and grabbed his hand. He swung me around by the hand and into his arms and, before I even knew what he intended, his lips were on mine. We were like people who’d gone days without food at a smorgasbord. For a few seconds all we could do was clutch one another closer and grind hungrily against each other.

On some level I felt my daemon hickey sparking but Emo reached up and placed his hand over the mark and it stopped.

The shock of that brought me to my senses. I pulled away from him and covered my tingling lips with my hand.

He looked at me for a long moment, then reached out to tug the slut bodice higher up on my breasts. “You have no business being with him, Astra. He’ll kill you eventually but he’ll cause you so much pain before he does.”

My eyes filled with tears as I watched him walk out of the office.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Super Size It

His chin was square, his pecs were buff,

But his manners were not up to snuff.

The client sitting across from me seemed less concerned about his missing wife than he was interested in the demons that he claimed took her. More worrying even than that was the extent of his knowledge, which, for your every day, normal human type creature, was impressive.

Most humans had little to no knowledge of any of the dark worlders, choosing instead to pretend that evil didn’t exist in the world. But nowhere is their ignorance more profound than when directed toward the demon race, mostly because demons were so adept at hiding their true form and nature from the magically susceptible human race.

I waited patiently while my new client explained to me that his wife had started to frequent the demon nightclubs in downtown Angel City a little over a month previous. I listened while he told me how she had become increasingly withdrawn and uncommunicative as her apparent obsession with the demons had grown.

As I listened it occurred to me that he was describing a textbook case of demon fixation. It was almost word for word, in fact, the same description I’d read in my own reference text on the subject.

Unfortunately it was just too perfect to ring true to me, given my highly cynical nature. I tried to keep a poker face until he was done and then I stared at him for a couple of beats before responding.

He stared back at me, unblinking. Meaning either he was being honest and had nothing to hide or he was very good at lying. I wanted to believe the former but was cynically inclined toward the latter.

“And exactly when did your wife disappear, Mx. Coltran?

“The night before last. At around two a.m.”

“How do you know she disappeared at that time of morning if you weren’t with her?”

He had the good grace to look sheepish, dropping his dark blond head to stare at the fine boned hands clasped in his lap. “I put a tracking device on her.”

I raised two finely tweezed dark red eyebrows into matching peaks. “You were tracking your wife, Mx. Coltran?”

He coughed a bit nervously. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I had reason to believe she was meeting a demon at the club every night, a superdemon, which meant he wasn’t repulsive and I...”

I inclined my head. “Yes?”

“I think she was falling for him.”

I thought about this for a moment, letting everything I knew about demons flow through my brain, snagging here and there on a jagged corner of my fertile imagination.

I knew it was possible. The superdemons were the equivalent of the royal devils in that their evil was hidden behind a fairly pleasant façade. Some of them were actually quite good looking in fact. I could see a human woman with an obsession toward the dark side finding one of them attractive.

Under the right circumstances.

“How do you know about this demon?” I asked him.

He flushed. “I...ah... I... You see I’d suspected for a while...” he looked up at me and his eyes momentarily flashed with anger before they settled back into sadness. “The truth is she’d been bragging to me about him. I didn’t want to know anything about it. I just wanted to make our marriage work.”

Also straight out of the book. The human mate of the obsessed person never really considered the obsession and any subsequent sexual activity to be actual straying from the marriage or relationship. It is always assumed that humans have no free will around dark world types.