Helpfully, Johnathan froze. He’d been under the impression the denizens of the Nether were a rarity ‘topside’ yet here was another one, staring him in the face. Good manners dictated he return the greeting.
“Um, hello,” he said, cursing his awkwardness. The woman shuffled from one bare foot to the other, clasping her hands in front of her. Johnathan belatedly realized he was also barefoot. He cleared his throat, straightening. “I—”
“I’ll go quietly,” she blurted, leaning in to speak in a pleading murmur. “Please, don’t hurt my patrons. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t kill anyone.”
Johnathan blinked, taking a step back. “I didn’t say you did.”
A frown creased her brow. “You believe me? Would you vouch to your master on my behalf?”
“Master? I don’t.” Johnathan took a breath to keep the volume of his voice down. “I don’t have a master,” he finished.
The woman’s eyes widened, a red gleam lighting her pupils. She ducked forward, wrapping a surprisingly strong grip around Johnathan’s arm. “This would be better as a private conversation, yes?” Her sultry voice was low, a suggestive note in her question. “Do you have a room here?”
He squinted down at her, uncertain he wanted to risk another demon in close quarters. His lip curled, a low rumble rising in his chest. The woman snatched her hand back, bowing her head in submission. Johnathan’s jaw dropped.
“I am so sorry,” he said. “I’m not sure where that came from.”
The woman appeared to be bemused by his apology. “Goodness, you must be new.”
Admitting how new didn’t seem in Johnathan’s best interests. After their odd exchange, he agreed their conversation would be better in private. That didn’t stop him from tensing when she threaded her arm through his, giving her other patrons a wave and a wink. Catcalls followed them up the stairs.
Johnathan frowned down at her. “Was that necessary?”
“Better they think you’re another lay than a copper.”
His frown deepened. “But I’m not a copper.”
Her sharp gaze slanted up at him, but she didn’t say another word until Johnathan led her to his room. The demoness stood in the center of his room, observing him and their surroundings in flitting, curious glances. Her glance lingered on the tangled sheets of the bed.
“Are you alone here?”
Johnathan debated how to answer her question. If her sense of smell was anything like his, she would have already picked up on Vic’s scent. “No.” He fidgeted, unwilling to give her more information without discerning her intent. “Where are my manners? I’m Johnathan.” She stared at his proffered hand, as if it would turn into a serpent and strike her.
“Hesper,” she said at length, forgoing the handshake. She mulled him over for several minutes and, finally, relaxed in his presence. “Now please, tell me how a Hound doesn’t have a Master?”
To Hell with good manners. Johnathan sat down hard on the rumpled bed, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “It’s complicated,” he said. His knowledge of the Nether was incredibly lacking, a dangerous truth to admit. There was an odd familiarity to Hesper’s sex and honey scent to let him roll with a theory. Demons weren’t something taught at length to Prospectives but there were plenty of old wives’ tales and legends about beautiful demons who led men astray into their beds. “What is a succubus doing in this sneeze of a town?”
Hesper answered with a careless shrug, the collar of her chemise drooping off her bared shoulder. “Good people here. Rough around the edges, but their hearts are open and pure.”
Her answer reminded him of Vic. “What about feeding?” A traitorous blush rose to from his cheeks to his ears.
Her mouth pinched. “Since I’m not a greedy idiot, I don’t take more than my patrons can give.” She crossed her arms, raising a brow at his reddened face. “You are the strangest Hound I’ve ever met.”
Johnathan laughed at her comment, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can’t argue there.”
Lips twitching, Hesper sighed. “Besides, the cities are crawling with black coats. Playing a dangerous game, that lot.”
His ears pricked up. “Black coats? You mean the Society?” He’d shredded out of his black coat when he shed his human skin, but he wasn’t about to divulge his origin to the succubus.
She nodded, failing to suppress a shudder. “You’d better steer clear yourself. I’ve heard plenty of rumors they are attempting to procure a Hound for themselves.”
That was painfully true though it threw him that a demon in a backwater town far from Cress Haven knew of the Society’s intentions when he’d been in the dark. “Heard from whom?”
“Ah, ah, I think that’s enough free answers, Sir Hound,” taunted the succubus, wagging a finger at him. She plopped down next to him on the bed, her skirts hiking up high to bare her thighs. The sight did positively nothing for him, though she wasn’t perturbed by his lack of reaction. Peering hard into his face, she sucked on a tooth. “You truly have no master?”
“No,” said Johnathan.
Hesper leaned back, tapping her fingers on top of the mattress. “The essence of the Nether still clings to you. You haven’t been on this plane for long.”
Not a question, though it invited an answer. Johnathan wasn’t sure he wanted to share. Except Hesper didn’t feel like a threat to him. Everything she said to him revealed something new and useful with every answer. He was surprised she sensed the Nether around him. “I was human three days ago.”
Her lips parted. Shock rolled over her face. “You’re—you’re made,” she whispered. “I should have guessed that by the name. Honestly, Johnathan, the Hound?” The succubus hugged herself. “Who bargained their way out of the Nether?” There was a strain of fear in her voice.
“Cernunnos,” said Johnathan. The name stung his mouth when he spoke it out loud, a poignant reminder of the creature who’d stolen his humanity and nearly subsumed his will. Hesper didn’t look happy to hear it either, a shudder running through her frame. He held up his hands. “We undid the bargain.”
Hesper grimaced. “And you’re still here.” She gave him an appraising look, opening and closing her mouth. A long breath streamed out between her lips. “Pray you never end up on the Netherside, Johnathan. The elder demons never forget, and they never forgive.”
That was a fate he wanted to avoid. “How does one end up on the Netherside, exactly?”
Disbelief pinched her brow, but she answered him. “Your physical body is destroyed on this plane. Your Master is destroyed.” Hesper ticked off her fingers. “Or you get yourself exorcised, but most humans don’t remember how to properly do that these days.”
No, they wouldn’t after the Society’s steady campaign to reduce the Nether, Other, and Benign to nothing more than children’s stories. Though Hesper confirmed what he already suspected. Cernunnos’s physical body might have died, but he was alive in the Nether. “Why did you think I would take you back?”
“You really are a greenhorn, aren’t you?” Hesper leaned into him. Her fingers gently pressed on his upper arm. “That’s what Hounds do Johnathan. That is their purpose. The trackers and guardians of the Nether. A Hound can find a demon in any of the four realms.” She sniffed. “Though you wouldn’t catch any respectable demon in the company of those gilded bastards.”
Johnathan wasn’t certain who she referred to. Gilded didn’t seem like a term to describe the fairies. “The Benign?”
Hesper harrumphed. “They aren’t safe either, you know. Not for long. Those black coats are gunning for us all.” Her gaze turned distant for a moment, coming back to the present with an alluring smile. “So, if you’re not here to drag me back to the Nether, is there anything I can do for a fellow demon?”
She purred, shifting closer to him. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen another.” Her appearance wavered, offering a glimpse of darkened clay red skin, long black claws, and elegant curling horns rising from Hesper’s mane of curls.
“That is very kind of you,” said Johnathan. “And while you are quite lovely, I’m afraid I’m taken.”
Hesper’s brows lifted so high they disappeared beneath her hairline. “You are full of surprises, Hound.” She gave a deliberate sniff, a knowing smile tilting her lips. “Oh. Oh. What a fortunate gentleman. And look at you, all blushing.” She giggled.
The door opened. Vic stormed, so distracted it wasn’t until he slammed the door and leaned back against it that he realized Johnathan wasn’t the only one in the room. His head turned, guarded gaze observing the tableau of Johnathan and Hesper, barefoot and half-dressed on the bed.
“Well, this is unexpected,” he said. Hesper’s lips curled at his statement, a slight tilt of her hips causing her skirts to reveal even more warm, smooth skin in blatant invitation. Johnathan frowned at her.
“This is not what you think,” said Johnathan, gesturing between himself and the succubus, though Hesper didn’t help clarify matters.
Vic took a prowling step toward them. “You know what I’m thinking now?” There was a hint of humor in his tone, but Johnathan caught a sharp tang in his normally smooth citrus scent. What was that? His brows knotted.
“You haven’t caught me in some uninspired tryst,” said Johnathan. “No offense,” he muttered to Hesper.
“Oh, none taken,” she said. Yet she didn’t move away from him. Her body shifted, until she was flush against his side, her curves on full display. “He is very pretty.” Her fingers twined in her hair, the scent of honey and vanilla pouring off her skin.
Vic’s steps faltered, his pupils dilating. “Who is your lovely friend, John?”
Johnathan finally recognized the change in Vic’s scent, Hesper’s scent weaving an invisible net around him. He scowled at the succubus. “Do you mind toning it down?”
Her lips drew into a pouting moue. “Sorry, can you blame me?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, baring her neck. Vic’s gaze fell to the area, an alarming flare of hunger in his eyes.
“Hesper,” Johnathan snapped. But his voice broke through whatever burgeoning influence she’d been coiling around Vic. He jumped back, shaking his head hard.
The succubus pursed her lips. “Interesting. I think your pull is stronger than mine.”
Vic’s reaction was not so blasé. His lips drew back over his teeth. “What the hell is that creature, John?” He pointed an accusing finger at Hesper. Johnathan swore his fangs were more prominent now, though whether from hunger or anger, it didn’t feel like the opportune time to bring the matter up.
“She’s a succubus,” Johnathan explained. Vic blinked, sputtering. Hesper snorted, delicately rearranging her body and dress to appease Johnathan. Her overpowering scent drained from the air.
“You have absolutely no tact,” she said.
Regaining his composure, Vic offered a far calmer smile, though his discomfort bled through. “Hello. Pleasure.” His gaze shifted to Johnathan. “May I speak to you a moment, John?”
Johnathan murmured an apology to Hesper, joining Vic on the other side of the room. The man wore a grimace, side eyeing the succubus who hadn’t moved from her spot on the bed. “I leave you alone for an hour and you pick up a demon. Really, John?” Vic whispered the admonishment though Hesper likely heard every word.
“I didn’t mean to, it was an accident,” said Johnathan with a helpless shrug. “I sort of…sniffed her out.” His cheeks reddened again.
“Yes, but why did you bring her to our room?” Vic spoke through his teeth. He appeared unsettled by his reaction to the woman, or perhaps his lack of control over his reaction, if Johnathan hazarded a guess. This was the closest he’d seen Vic to unhinged, which included their violent encounters with Evans and his men. Fighting through impalement and Deadman’s blood didn’t rattle Vic in the slightest but succumbing to Hesper’s charms appeared to leave him unbalanced.
Moving up a step, Johnathan pressed his forehead to Vic’s, the sharpness receding from his scent. “We couldn’t have it out in front of the other patrons. Safer to talk up here.” He reached up, gripping Vic’s shoulder, the muscles tighter than a drum beneath his hold. “She thought I was here to capture her.”
Vic released a breath, some of the awful tension easing at Johnathan’s reply. He glanced over Johnathan’s shoulder at the waiting succubus. “Forgive me, my exposure to demons is minimal and the interactions have been mixed.”
The succubus lifted her hands in a complacent gesture. “If you’re not here to capture me, I have no qualms with your presence.” She held up a finger. “Unless you intend to claim feeding grounds. This area is taken.”
Her words leeched what little color was left from Vic’s face. “No, we are passing through. I’ve secured passage from this town to leave by first light.” He moved closer to her, impatience evident in his mien, when Hesper suddenly stiffened. Johnathan couldn’t discern the emotion that flickered over her features, gone in an instant, but there was a strange gleam in her gaze. Her shoulders heaved with her next breath, at odds with her apparent calm.
Hesper tapped her chin. “By coach or by boat.”
While the succubus appeared to have no quarrel with them, they hadn’t established any substantial trust. Who knew who her loyalties extended to, other than herself? But Vic answered without hesitation, as if conversing with an old friend. “Well, the river of course. I’d rather avoid taking John through the city. We need to shake these Society louts on our trail. I need to get him further inland as soon as possible.”
Hesper’s mouth tightened at mention of the Society. Johnathan glanced between them. What the hell was Vic doing? “Vic—”
“What’s waiting for you there?” A sing-song quality colored her tone. She trailed her fingers over the swell of her breasts. Her honey vanilla scent remained muted but her voice made his ears ring.
“A safe p-place,” Vic stuttered. He tried to choke back the words. A fine sweat broke out across his brow.
The world throbbed against Johnathan’s temples. A flashfire raced through his veins. He stood before Hesper in a blink. His hand closed around her throat, claws sinking into the tender skin of her neck. Johnathan lifted her body off the bed and slammed her against the wall. The human guise vanished, exposing her dark red skin and horns. A long thin tail lashed between her calves. Her fear tasted spoiled and sickly sweet, while she whimpered under the pressure of his hold. “Please, I’m sorry,” she pleaded, “I over stepped. I’ll leave. Please.”
His grip tightened. “Who is your master, Hesper?”
She tried to shake her head; the movement stunted. Her head thudded against the wall. “It’s not like that,” she gasped. “I promise, it’s not like that. I had to know what you were bringing here.” Her gaze slid to Vic and back, a frantic edge to her words. “You don’t understand. You can’t trust him. His kind will ruin you.”
Johnathan wanted to shake her. Even with his hand cutting off her air, she tried to set them against each other. Whatever power her scent or voice held over Vic, he was immune to it. “Stop your manipulations.” The words emerged as little more than a growl, fire rising beneath the surface of his skin. Smoke streamed from his lips.
Hesper’s eyes were wide as saucers in her face. “It’s not a manipulation. I swear it, I—I—” Her words dissolved into incoherent babble.
Vic’s fingers closed on Johnathan’s wrist. “Let her go, John,” he said.
Instinct screamed at Johnathan to end the threat. To dig in his claws. Hesper hadn’t been a threat before, not to him, not until she tried to use her influence on Vic.
“She’s terrified,” said Vic. The softness of his voice that cut through the warring urges in Johnathan’s mind. He snatched his hand away. The succubus sucked in air, clutching her neck.
His breath came in short gasps, the Hound close to the surface. “I’m sorry,” he said. Johnathan craved fresh air, desperate to clear the foreign rage from his system, but he didn’t dare leave Vic alone with this demon, no matter how defeated she appeared.
“Do not apologize to the cunning little witch.” Vic huffed at the succubus. “I think it’s best if we part ways, my dear.”
Hesper nodded, scurrying past them. She paused at the door, glancing back at Johnathan, the bruised skin of her neck already faded. Longing and regret etched in the lines of her lovely face before she escaped. The sight of those bruises swamped him with guilt. Johnathan was a brute. This was the first hand he laid on a woman before, having trained with several female Prospectives. He’d hunted at least one lady vampire, but he hadn’t intended to hurt Hesper. The violence of his reaction agitated him. If Vic hadn’t interfered, he would have killed her.
“Are you with me, John?” Vic cupped his cheek, a touch to soothe the rising beast. Inside, the Hellhound laid down and showed its belly. Johnathan didn’t know how to perceive that reaction.
Nodding assent, he stood mute while Vic hustled about the room, gathering the remains of Johnathan’s scattered clothing. The memory of their intimacy was far too distant in the wake of the succubus’s departure.
“I’m sorry,” Johnathan repeated; useless words, but it was all he could think to say.
Vic took his wrist leading him to the chair rather than the bed. “You didn’t even eat,” he chided, pushing Johnathan down on the seat and shoved his feet into the boots.
“I can do this myself,” said Johnathan. Vic batted his hands away.
“Eat. Put your gloves on,” he said. “We shouldn’t stay here for the remainder of the night.”
That was Johnathan’s fault too. Cool fingers pressed against his open mouth.
“Not another apology, John,” said Vic. “Neither of us could have predicted we’d run into another demon.” Vic gave an exaggerated eye roll. “One encounter in five hundred years with a demon, now they are coming out the woodwork like startled mice.” He brushed his fingers along the curve of Johnathan’s lip. “Don’t you dare try to shoulder the blame for this.”
“I didn’t think,” said Johnathan. “I shouldn’t have brought her up here. I shouldn’t have left the room.”
“Liar.” Vic snorted. “You constantly over think. It’s one of your charms.”
Johnathan bit his lip against a smile. Vic made it easy to forget the foolishness of his actions. “She didn’t feel dangerous.”
Vic remained silent while he finished lacing Johnathan’s boots, his brows knotted in thought. For his part, Johnathan forced down the cold stew. It smelled fine, though it tasted bland on his tongue and stuck in his throat like glue. He managed half the bowl before he gave up and pulled his gloves on. The smoldering embers of his irises were exposed, but at least the claws were concealed. It was a blessing no one noticed them when he first confronted the succubus downstairs, another amateur move, worse than a newly recruited Prospective.
“I don’t think she was dangerous,” said Vic, rising to his feet. “Not to you.” He smoothed his hands down his coat, somehow remarkably unrumpled. “There is an open storehouse dockside we can wait until dawn.”
Johnathan ambled after his far more chipper companion, glancing mournfully at the tub as they exited the room. He feared it would be a dreadfully long time before he had another hot soak.