Where There's Smoke
Copyright
Copyright © 2012 by Karen Kelley
Cover and internal design © 2012 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover design by Dawn Adams/Sourcebooks, Inc.
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kelley, Karen.
Where there’s smoke / Karen Kelley.
1. Paranormal romance stories. I. Title.
PS3611.E443W48 2012
813’.6—dc23
2011050773
A Sneak Peek of
Where There’s a Will
To Karl, the love of my life
Destiny Carter was six years old when she had the first inkling that her life wouldn’t be a fairy tale. That was the day her mother left her in a grocery store and never came back. Destiny was right, her life went downhill from there. Bad foster homes, bad boyfriends, and really, really bad choices.
Then she died and went to Hell.
Until she was kicked out.
Destiny landed on the sidewalk with a hard
thump
.
“Son of a bitch!” She grimaced as she came to her feet, rubbing her hands over her tender backside. She was probably the first person ever to get kicked out of Hell. Temporarily, that is.
Hysterical laughter bubbled inside her, but she quickly tamped it down. She was not going to lose what little bit of sanity she had left. She would get through this like she did everything else, by gritting her teeth and doing what she had to do.
All
is
not
lost. Just take a deep breath.
She inhaled.
Ugh! Her nose twitched as a god-awful stench filled her space. She glanced down the deserted street. Faded army-green painted letters on a shabby storefront window proclaimed it as Ft. Worth’s finest resale shop.
Oh hell, she’d landed close to the stockyards in Ft. Worth, Texas, but this wasn’t Billy Bob’s. No, skid-row bars and vacant buildings lined both sides of the street.
Could her day get any worse?
Not that she had anything against Texas, except it was hot as hell. The dry heat was not helping her mood.
“I couldn’t manage to steal one more soul?” she grumbled.
Okay, so she wasn’t the best salesperson in the underworld. Why didn’t that lawyer just sign on the dotted line? He insisted on reading the fine print and before she knew it, poof, he was gone. One more soul and she would’ve been a full-fledged demon with all the rights and privileges of that position—like drinking, gambling, and lots of sex.
“Sex,” she breathed on a sigh as she slowly combed her fingers through her long, black hair. Naked, straining bodies. Hands touching, caressing. She bit her bottom lip and forced the vision to go far, far away before she grabbed the grungy-looking bum leaning against the vacant store front and had her way with him.
She grimaced. Maybe she wasn’t
that
hard up. But Destiny did really miss sex. Everything about her life might have been lousy, but never the sex. And right now she was so horny she figured she’d start sprouting a pair any time, except people at the trainee level couldn’t grow a set of horns to save their lives.
Now she was one step farther from her goal. The ones in charge were really pissed, but at least they had given her another chance, and new orders: corrupt someone and drag the unwitting person back to Hell. She had one week to do it or else. Why the fuck had they tacked on “or else”? What were they going to do? Send her to Hell?
Okay, shake it off
. Getting kicked out was only a minor glitch. She could take a soul in less than a week. A moment of panic sent a shiver down her spine and her bravado drained away. Who was she kidding? Only dying souls caught between Heaven and Hell were sent to the sorting station. Her job was to convince them Hell was their best choice. She didn’t have to search them out. Nothing ever went right for her in life. Why did she think being dead would change things?
No, she could do this. She
would
survive.
A flashing neon sign suddenly caught her attention when one of the bulbs popped and blew out. THE STOMPIN’ GROUND. A bar. Her mouth watered. Demons-in-training weren’t allowed to drink, or do much of anything on the job, and they were always on the job. One drink wouldn’t hurt, and a bar would be a good place to start looking for a corruptible soul. In fact, it was her duty to go inside and check the place out.
A slow smile curved her lips as she slid her hands slowly over her body and the plain, butt-ugly, black wool uniform shift became a tight-fitting, low-cut, fuck-me red dress that shimmered with each slow, seductive step she took. Yeah, she was bad. Life made her that way. That’s why she went straight to Hell. You never saw a good girl in Hell.
The bum’s mouth dropped open. He looked at his wrinkled brown paper sack that obviously held a bottle of booze, then back at her. She grinned and winked. He tipped the bottle to his mouth, guzzling down more alcohol.
“See you in Hell,” she muttered.
Destiny made her way to the bar, then pushed on the door, stepping inside the cool, dimly lit interior. As soon as her eyes adjusted, she glanced around. A haze of cigarette smoke formed a gray cloud above the patrons.
Slim pickings. Only a handful of people sat at tables.
Two worn out hookers were strategically positioned close to the door. Too easy. They already had Hell stamped on their foreheads. Destiny wanted to impress the powers that be. Used-up hookers would not make an impact on them.
A couple of men sat at another table deep in conversation about a stupid football game. Not bad looking. Wedding rings glinted on their fingers. Married. Too much trouble.
Hmm… But the demons might be impressed.
Before she could take a step toward them the bathroom door opened, spilling a patch of light into the bar. Two laughing women joined the men at their table. Scratch that idea. Two was company, four was a crowd.
There was a lively group of barely legal college boys chugging pitchers of beer. Hmm, certainly corruptible. From the way they were dressed, they were definitely slumming. One guy glanced her way, eyes practically bugging out.
Oh hell, was that drool? No thanks!
Someone put money in the jukebox and a slow country song began to play. For a moment, she let the deep voice of the singer wash over her. She didn’t even mind that he was crooning about his cheating wife and losing himself in a bottle of whiskey. Damn, she missed being alive.
Her gaze languidly drifted around the rest of the room, past dark walls with posters of country singers plastered all over them. The bartender wiped a damp cloth across one end of the bar. Destiny’s eyes narrowed as she sized him up. The potential was there.
He raised his head, saw her, then smiled. The kind of smile that made her feel good all over. He wasn’t bad looking, in a good-old-boy sort of way.
Destiny drew in a deep breath as she readied herself for a full assault, but at the last minute a movement at the other end of the bar caught her eye.
A lone cowboy sat on one of the stools nursing a beer, his back to her. He wore a black T-shirt that deliciously hugged his broad shoulders. Her gaze dropped. The jeans weren’t bad, either. Nope, not bad at all. The guy had a great ass from this angle.
Sweet!
Cowboy had just enough muscles that he created a fantasy, but not enough that she would be in competition with his ego.
He turned and looked her way, his gaze sliding sensuously over her body. Tingles of excitement tickled her spine. She had such a fondness for cowboys. They knew how to ride ’em long and hard, and she was all for long and hard.
She devoured him with one long lazy look. His black Stetson was pulled down low on his forehead as though he didn’t give a damn about anyone or anything. It didn’t help that, for some insane reason, black cowboy hats turned her on.
Oh baby, she was about to make his wet dreams come true. Yee-haw, ride ’em cowboy.