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I also made sure to visit my favorite employee, Jasper from Bachanellian Bordello, our highest earning whorehouse. You wanted to spend the evening with a wolf shifter? Done. A selkie?Aye. A Brazilian Caipora? Of course. We had exotic, supernatural beings for every taste and catered to all kinds of elite clientele. Jasper, however, was the most exotic and handsome of all the employees. In his human form, he had a smooth, elven face, with big green eyes, and a sharp jawline that raked in the dough. His taut, trim body and bubble ass were popular with our older clientele, especially the daddies looking for someone they could call boy for the night.
What I liked about Jasper, aside from his impish personality and good looks, was his natural cedar scent. He was a wood nymph from the Bavarian Forest who gave such skilled, intense blowjobs, he had earned the nickname The LumberJacker. When he shifted, he transformed into an ethereal, green version of himself that words couldn’t even describe.What a perfect distraction from the slut and the asshole responsible for bringing her into my life trying to mindlink me.
I took Jasper into my office, sat on my favorite leather chair, and shoved him onto his knees so he could chop down my wood. Jasper was such a pro that I didn’t even have to give him direction; he remembered exactly how I liked it. As he sucked my cock in and out of the silky, wet heat of his mouth, I could relax and think about a simpler time in my life, before I was sentenced to an eternity of damnation. I had a successful trading business, a wife I loved, and a beautiful estate I wanted to raise a family on.Not anymore.
Twenty minutes and a blown load later, I felt somewhat better. I hadn’t eaten all day, so that was probably where the leftover irritation came from. Even hellbounds got hangry every now and then.
I went to Keen’s Steakhouse in Manhattan for a late dinner. The only thing that could set my mood right was a rare filet mignon, carrots with brown butter, a dozen oysters, and enough dirty martinis that I was unable to feel the furious jealousy I could barely tamp down. About halfway through my meal, I heard the other chair at my table scrape across the floor. I begrudgingly looked up from my beautiful, rare steak to see Desmond sitting there. His raised brow and pursed lips gave the impression that he wasn’t happy with me.
Where have you been all day? You ignored my mindlinks. Oh, he was not happy at all.
I had some business to address, then I was having a nice dinner before you showed up and ruined it with your nagging.I was on my third martini shaker and didn’t really have time for his dramatic Daddy Desmond routine. He could fuck right off.
His eyes shifted, the golden flecks standing out against his peridot irises. He gave me a fake smile and reached across the table, taking my hand in his. To any of the other diners, it would look like a sweet gesture between lovers.Awww, how cute.But what they couldn’t see was his far superior strength crushing my hand, causing a sharp pain to radiate up my wrist to my shoulder joint. Then he ran his foot up my leg, pressing the sole of his shoe against my semi hard dick. As much as I loved pain, this type wasn’t pleasurable.
I don’t care if you like Diana. You’re more than welcome to visit one of our bordellos, get your cock sucked by a pine tree wannabe whore, and eat a steak afterwards. But when I tell you to attend Diana’s test to measure her abilities, you sure as Lilith’s left tit better be there.He pressed his foot down harder and dug his nails into the back of my hand.When I give you an order, you follow it.
Despite the pain flaring through my body right then, I didn’t flinch. I stared into those peridot eyes, willing him to take this even further.Teach me a lesson, Daddy.My lips curled as I grimaced in wry amusement. The waitress came back to the table, smiling and blushing like a debutante at a cotillion, obviously curious about the handsome, ginger gentleman who had randomly passed the front of house and sat at my table for one.
“Sir, can I get you a drink while you survey the menu? Our special today is a tarragon lamb with a bernaise sauce, parmesan Brussels sprouts, and seasoned potatoes,” she chirped in a floaty, happy voice that was a complete juxtaposition of the situation she wasn’t privy to. As she handed him the menu, Desmond took her wrist, with his other hand.
“Hello, sweetheart. You’re going to take this empty martini glass and wad of cash from me. Pay the bill, and keep the change for yourself. Then you’re going to drop the glass over there” –he pointed with his other hand–“and cause a distraction.” Unbelievable, he was influencing her with docility to make her more agreeable.
She did exactly what he asked her too, and while everyone was whispering about the clumsy waitress who shattered a glass on the floor, he faded me to a nondescript, brick building. He eased his hold on me, so we were casually holding hands.
“What’s this?” I asked. I had never seen this building before.
The reason you respond to me immediately when I mindlink you is because it’s important. Satan summoned you. He wants to meet you and talk.Desmond’s jaw ticked.
Just me? Why?I panicked.
No clue. I’m not going to question Satan. Calm the fuck down. Get your ass in there, and keep it as short as possible.Desmond straightened my collar and fixed my tie.How many drinks have you had? Hell’s Bells, you smell like an olive jar.
Not enough to prepare me for this.Fuck, I was so screwed.He knows.
Desmond walked me into the building, and we traveled three floors on a slow as molasses at senior-hour elevator. I sweated bullets with every passing second. What could Satan possibly want with me? He had never directly contacted me before for anything. I had never been alone in a room with him and wasn’t too keen about meeting him one-on-one.
Desmond handed me off to a silent guard who didn’t talk to me or make any eye contact as he ushered me to a nondescript office room and sat me down onto a couch to wait. A door across from me was partially open, but I couldn’t see inside. I tried to calm down while I waited. I was going to face my fate like a man, with my head held high. The worst had already happened to me. My life couldn’t sink any lower, so what did I have to lose?
“Malcolm Knight, come in,” Satan’s hoarse voice filtered through the opening. “I need to speak with you.”
* * *
After an hour and a half, I was finally able to leave. The same guard escorted me down to the ground floor via the elevator, where Desmond sat reading a cooking magazine. No doubt he’d taken some pictures of recipes for Olga. As soon as we stepped foot outside the building, he led me to an alley and faded us back home to the gate. We went inside and immediately Desmond took my suit jacket off and loosened my tie. Then he ripped my shirt open and laid his palm on my bare chest. Red light shone beneath it as he moved slowly over my chest, neck, and head.
“He used magic on you, but didn’t leave behind any surveillance spells. I’m going to have to get Sebastian to help us sort through your memories tomorrow at breakfast. Tell me exactly what he said to you.” Desmond’s firm voice quelled the anxious storm whirling inside me. He was our leader, and he always had a plan. He was going to handle everything, keep us safe.
“He said there’s a moonstone shipment coming into John F. Kennedy Airport sometime soon, and that he needed someone with my telekinesis ability to help move the product to a safehouse upstate. He couldn’t give me the exact date, for secrecy purposes, but said he’d be in touch with me.”
“So all he wanted was for you to help another crew transport whole moonstones? Did he mention anything about grinding, packaging, or handling distribution and sales?”
“No, just transport,” I gulped, trying to clear my throat.
My head throbbed. I felt fuzzy and weird, the way one would if their memories were altered. I guess it all checked out? Our conversation, in hindsight, seemed disjointed, as if pieces were missing. “I think my memory may have been altered, and parts of the conversation seem planted.”
I stumbled forward, but Desmond caught my arm, hauling me upright. “Bash is going to examine you tomorrow to see if anything is amiss. You need a good night’s sleep to be able to withstand him poking around up there,” he said, tapping on my temple. “Everything will be fine. Goodnight.”
Desmond didn’t kiss me goodnight like he usually would, and I couldn’t blame him. I was a ripe asshole today for ignoring him all day. He did seem less mad though, so that was an improvement.
