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One thought chased me down into the dark, louder and more terrifying than any other.
All of your dreams are over.
six
I stalk the London streets instead of taking my anicorpus form. I need the chill November air to cool my cheeks. To calm my pulse and regain my composure.
“What in the bloody hell…?”
Coaxing and feasting on a human’s climax is routine. I’ve done it a thousand times, and yet as I brought Cole Matheson to a release he desperately needed, an unsettling sensation grew within me. Unwanted emotions felt as if they were trying to wake from a three-hundred-year-old hibernation.
“Nonsense,” I declare and walk faster. “He’s attractive. There’s no scandal in that.”
Except I’d been with countless other humans over the centuries who were far more conventionally handsome. Cole was appealing, to be sure, with his arresting eyes that were the darkest shade of brown. Almost black. Sharp with intelligence and yet soft, reflecting his artistic heart. A broad mouth, broad shoulders. His unruly mop of brown hair, burnished with gold, begged my fingers to make fists in it while I crushed my lips to his…
“I do not kiss humans,” I told the night.
It was a hard and fast rule. My only rule, really, when it came to what I would do or have done to me. But Cole’s parted lips had started to unravel me. My control had begun to falter and instead of witnessing the fruits of my labor—the most satisfying moment—I slipped out through the crack in the window, leaving myself unsatiated. Hungry.
Wanting.
“No. Impossible.”
I take to the air and swarm to my flat in Chelsea. I leave windows open for that purpose and surge into my bedroom. A new curse falls from my lips as I reform as a human.
Demon…
I can smell her. Fire and cinnamon, arousal and danger, blood and sex.
“Sugar and spice and everything depraved,” I mutter as I go to the living room—myliving room—to see Eisheth, Destroyer of Men, and Asmodai’s second-in-command—draped overmysettee.
The succubus is dripping in black lace, her black hair flowing between her bat wings like silk. She not so much lies on my couch but is spilling over it with long, languid limbs. Blood red nails trail lazily up her own bare, bloodless thigh. It doesn’t escape me that she’s in her demon form and I am not. I’m weak in this human shell and she knows it.
“Eisheth,” I say placidly. “This is unexpected.”
And ominous.
“Ambri, darling. It’s been too long.”
I bend so that we may kiss cheeks, then move quickly out of her space. In those few short moments, I feel her crawling around in my mind, searching…
“Brandy?”
“Please.”
I fill two glasses from a crystal decanter and hand her one before I sit on the chair opposite.
“What brings you to This Side?”
Her red lips turn up in a smile that makes my skin itch. “Don’t play dumb. Asmodai is not a patient entity, and neither am I.”
“All business, eh? A pity.”
“We can still have our fun first, if you’d like.” She lets her thighs fall open slightly. “For old time’s sake?”
I smirk over the rim of my glass. “We’d burn the city to the ground.”
“Wouldn’t we just?” Her perfect eyebrows arch. “I’m surprised to find you in London. Returning to the scene of dear uncle’s crime?”
