Dark Hope (The Devil's Assistant) (15 page)

I didn’t know what power I really had, or how to use it. For all I knew the Keeper lied and it was all the watch. Considering everything that happened, I didn’t really believe that, but it wasn’t like I had a user’s guide, so it really didn’t matter where it came from. Whether it was from me or the watch—same difference—it would work or it wouldn’t.

Putting as much conviction as possible into my words, I said, “Don’t let me forget anything.”

A strange tingling sensation ran from my right wrist to the base of my neck and over my scalp. An odd glow rimmed my vision, blinding me for a moment. Everything popped into sharp focus when I could see clearly. I was alert—aware of my surroundings. As if the sky had been cloudy before and now everything was sunny and bright.

I immediately regretted casting the spell. I shook my head, but the overwhelming sense of total awareness didn’t go away.
Crap
. This couldn’t be good.

“Suck it up, what’s done is done,” I muttered.

Blowing out a breath. I raised my hand to knock, then hesitated. Could I really do this? I considered throwing up, but I resisted. It wouldn’t help. He scared me, but losing my lifesaving hotdog wouldn’t change that.

I can do this.

Quickly, before I chickened out, I rapped my knuckles on the door.

Within seconds shuffling footsteps approached. I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding when the door opened, and it wasn’t Mace. It was a very old man dressed in an elaborate butler’s uniform. He had close-cut gray hair combed back with so much gel it was wet. He was human. His outfit reminded me of the costumes the sentries had worn—too perfect to be real.

“Yes, miss, how may I help you?” he said, in a very formal British accent.

“I’m here to see Mace.”

“May I inquire as to your business with the master?”

The master? “It’s a family matter.” No need to discuss this with the help.

“And you are?” he asked, looking down his nose at me.

“Claire, his father’s assistant.” There was no understanding of my position in his eyes. Either he didn’t care or he didn’t know. Could be both.

“Please follow me.”

I followed him into the villa’s main room, which was a large open room designed in a tropical style. The eclectic collection of couches and chairs seemed to be the kind of furnishings someone might choose if they could only buy what was already on the island.

My voice caught in my throat the moment I saw him. He was sitting, surrounded by several young pagans tightly huddled around him. The girls were dressed in barely-there string bikinis and wrap-around sarongs. The boys wore what I believe they called banana hammocks and nothing else.

I was anxious, but it wasn’t my fear of Mace. Someone in the room was veiled, and not who they appeared to be.

Mace’s eyes were glazed, but snapped to attention when he saw me. One of the pagan women had her head between his legs. I blushed and turned away when I realized what she was doing.

Pagans weren’t exactly shy about sex—with anyone. I attempted to ignore him and concentrate on figuring out which pagan was veiled, but the men and women were all too close together. I couldn’t pinpoint the source.

A couple of
long
minutes later she let out a wail of pleasure. Mace unceremoniously shoved her off and righted himself. Thank God,
he
wasn’t a screamer. I couldn’t say the same about her. She’d carried on as if she was auditioning for voice-over work in adult films. He hadn’t made a sound. His piercing gaze was on me the entire time, which was uncomfortable enough.

“Did you enjoy the show?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. Mace was too attractive to be human. His pale violet eyes were unusual and unnerving. They weren’t quite blue enough for a full pagan, but they weren’t red like a demon either. He ran his hand through his short-ish blond hair and flashed a wicked grin. He could have rocked California surfer or Norwegian god. He would have looked just as good bald, and he knew it.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I scanned the pagans, who were now fanned out around him making it easier for me to see each of them.

“Would you like to go next?” he asked.

My eyes widened and snapped to his beautiful face.
A
woman to his right growled, but his gaze stayed on me. I didn’t like the way he eyed me. Like all pagans, Mace wasn’t timid about sex, but Sorrel had always been the amorous one toward me.

My heart beat fast, and my palms were sweaty. Not wanting to show fear, I purposefully kept my breathing slow and steady. The others had been nothing like themselves. Mace was maybe a hair more preoccupied with sex—especially with me—and I’d never seen him in jeans before—but those were the only differences. Of course, Cinnamon had seemed normal until Charles turned his attention on her. Maybe Mace just needed another jolt of—whatever—to be the fully oblivious sex god he was acting like now.

If he didn’t need my help and this was just Mace then I should run. If he did need my help and I left him trapped, he’d get even. I really had no choice. At this point, I had to attempt to de-spell him.

Mace sat up straighter and cocked one of his perfect eyebrows as I sidestepped the butler and approached him.
Oh god, he probably thinks I want to be next
. I ignored that thought, but the woman to his right certainly didn’t. Her body language told me she was ready to fight for her spot in line.

I swallowed my fear and continued with my plan—the absolutely stupid plan of tap and go. Especially now that he thought I wanted to go next.

He bit his lip as I approached. I leaned forward—ignoring the low snarls from the pagan on my left—and touched his right hand. I expected the same static energy to pass between us that I experienced with the others. My mouth fell open when nothing happened. He really wasn’t spelled.

I jerked my hand away. His brows pinched together. I took a step back, planning to run, but before I could move the woman to my left grabbed me by the hair.

“He’s mine next,” she hissed.

“I don’t want him,” I blurted.

Mace’s expression darkened. Was he actually surprised I didn’t want him?

“Everyone wants him,” she argued.

“Everyone else, maybe. Not me.”

Mace’s mouth pinched together. He had the ability to know when someone was lying. I wasn’t lying, and for some reason that seemed to piss him off.

“Tell her, please,” I urged, but he kept his mouth closed

She growled, “You know you want him too.”

For the love of God, could she be more delusional? “Please, Mace.”

His eyes never left mine. He was enjoying this. In a low silky voice, he said, “Leah, she’s like family.”

I was so
not
like family, but I wasn’t about to argue that point.

“Leah,” he barked when she didn’t react.

With a petulant groan Leah shoved me forward. Off balance, I stumbled. In a blur of motion, Mace stood and caught me. He spun me around so I was facing away from him. Trapping my arm between our bodies, he held me close with his suffocating embrace. “Did you miss me, Claire?” he cooed in my ear.

I sucked in air to keep from snorting. One, because this was Mace, and although he was being a bit touchy-feely right now, he was an ass, and two, he could hurt me if he really wanted to.

With his nose in my hair, he inhaled deeply before putting a light kiss on my cheek. “Have you come to play?” he asked then kissed me again.

“No.” I cringed when he drew my earlobe into his mouth. “I came to help you. That’s all. I swear.”

“I’d rather play.”

Oh, god no
. Lovey-dovey Mace was really starting to piss me off. With a firm tone, I said, “You’re in danger.”

He wasn’t under the spell, but maybe he was next. I could warn him, and he wouldn’t get trapped. If only he would listen. He swayed our bodies back and forth as if we were slow dancing. He either didn’t care or he didn’t believe me.

“Look at me and you’ll know I’m telling the truth,” I insisted.

He stopped and spun me around to face him. His lips were pressed into a firm line. He’d gone from playful to pissed in a heartbeat. “Speak.”

Assuming he wouldn’t placate me long, I blurted everything out quickly. “Cinnamon was trapped in Purgatory. Sage was at his apartment, but not himself. Sorrel is missing. I thought you might be trapped too.”

I gasped when Mace yanked me forward. His hands tightened around my arms. His jaw was clenched, and his violet eyes were somehow lighter—more threatening.

“I—” My voice cracked. I swallowed, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. He wouldn’t hurt me like before. He wouldn’t go back on his word to the king. “Mace,” I stammered, not sure what to say.

All eyes in the room were on us. The pagans glared at me. Leah—the woman who’d grabbed me—licked her lips. Were they just going to watch him hurt me? She smiled, then leaned over to whisper to the girl on her left. The woman behind her shifted to hide, but not before I saw her.

Indigo. She wore a tropical sarong over a colorful bikini, like the others, but it was her. She was the one veiled. The one I’d sensed when I walked in. The veil had no effect on me—not since my trip to Purgatory, but Mace and the others would see her as a pagan. I breathed a sigh of relief. Mace would have to believe me now. He couldn’t ignore a veiled demon in his harem of pagans.

I moistened my dry lips and looked at Indigo. “Demon,” I accused.

Mace followed the path of my gaze. He snarled at her before shoving me to the ground and stalking toward her. The other pagans scattered, disappearing one by one. Indigo turned to run, but he stopped her with his will.

I pushed to my feet, intent on getting to the door while he was busy with her. At this point, I didn’t care if Mace was in danger. Hell,
I
was in danger.

Mace had other plans. He threw his will, tripping me. “Stay,” he commanded.

Indigo yelped.

“Show yourself,” he yelled.

I sensed her release her veil as I launched toward the door again. A loud thump sounded behind me just before I was yanked backward by his will. I braced myself for the impact. As I slammed into the wall, my breath was knocked out of me. Wheezing I peered down. Indigo was crumpled, unconscious, on the floor at my feet.

“You aren’t getting away from me that easily,” Mace said. “Not after what you’ve done.”

After what I’ve done? He was acting as if I’d come here to kill him not save him. “I was just trying to help. I told you about the demon.”

He barked out a short laugh. “Do you really think I didn’t know about her?”

If he knew about her, then why didn’t he get rid of her? Why did he keep her around? “I have important business for your father—”

Mace’s violet eyes widened. “You’re lying, Claire,” he said through gritted teeth.

Oh, crap
. “You promised him you wouldn’t do this again.”

His smile faded, and his eyes narrowed. “Did he send you here?”

“Ye—” I started to say yes, but my words were cut off as he wrapped his will around me and squeezed. He’d seen through the lie before it was off my tongue.

He leaned in, pushing my body against the wall. “You came to me willingly, not as my father’s servant.” His cocked eyebrow sent a shiver down my spine. Mace twined his hand in my hair. “All bets are off now, little girl.”

I gasped as he pressed our bodies closer together. “No. Please. I won’t tell your father. I promise. Just let me go.”

“How do you know you won’t like it?” he asked, rubbing against me. “Father has been keeping you away from me,” he said, trailing light kisses down my neck. “You came to me willingly.” He inhaled deeply, as if my scent were an elixir. “You’re mine now.”

“No—”

He cupped my face in his hands. Lifting my chin, he kissed me on the lips. I tried to pull away, but his firm grip prevented it. I gasped when his hand snaked under the hem of my shirt, which allowed him to push his tongue into my mouth. Turning my head, I slid away as he bent forward to deepen the kiss. Undeterred he returned his warm lips to my neck.

I wanted to scream in frustration. His touch was setting me on fire, but I shouldn’t be feeling anything. I didn’t love Mace. I hated him, but his hands roved over my body caressing and stroking as if we were lovers. I cried out as he bit on my neck then licked over the spot.

“Stop,” I demanded, and he froze.

A guttural rumble came from his throat.

“Master,” the butler called from behind him, breaking the tension

Mace pushed away from me. My legs like jelly, I slid down the wall, trying to catch my breath.

He glared at the butler. “What,” he barked.

“Your message has been sent,” the butler said, bowing his head.

“Shit,” Mace said, glancing back at me. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Collins, you are nothing if not efficient.”

“Thank you, sir,” Collins said with a slight nod.

I started to lift myself off the floor.

Mace pushed me back down with his will. “Sit, stay,” he chided, as if I were his pet.

Collins spoke again. “What shall I do with Miss Lily?”

Mace’s attention swiveled back to the butler. “Take her below to the basement.”

Collins nodded.

Mace turned back to me. “And prepare a circle of salt for Claire.”

I opened my mouth, but Mace tightened his will, keeping me quiet.

Although Collins appeared quite old, he easily bent down and scooped up Indigo—Lily’s—unconscious form. He threw her limp body over his shoulder and carried her toward a blank wall on the far side of the room. He tapped it three times, and a door appeared. A portal…of course. Beach houses didn’t have basements.

Mace stared at me for a long minute, then sighed. “This is a royal fucking mess,” he said, more at me than to me. He squeezed the back of his neck and paced the room.

My body was stiff from the tight hold of his will. I cleared my throat.