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Returning to the hotel was much harder than leaving. Shax snuck in through the back entrance and took the stairs up all twenty flights, not wanting to risk running into Aeshma or anyone else. All he wanted to do was sleep, but his mind raced.
Serel, like the good angel he was, wrote notes. He hid them somewhere. No, Shax knew exactly where. In the kitchen pantry, at the dorm full of angels, who would kill him if they spotted him.
He ordered a bottle of vodka delivered to his room. Fuck the cost. Aeshma was paying. Drinking more than he should, Shax plonked the bottle down on the dresser to remove the temptation to drink himself into oblivion.
The alcohol afforded him the ability to sleep, though he tossed and turned. The image of Michael and Kheone kissing played over and over in his mind. Her words on repeat, saying they would never be friends, but belied by the warmth of her smile, the liquid heat of her eyes when she thought he wasn’t looking.
Slipping into a restless doze sometime before the sun rose, nightmares of all kinds plagued him. Chased by Michael, who changed into Lucifer wielding the obsidian dagger. Screwed by Aeshma, and not in the good way. Worst of all, Kheone lying dead in a pool of her own opalescent blood, a sword through her heart. A sword he knew, somehow, was his.
When bugs began crawling down his chest, Shax assumed he was still dreaming, another horror after a night filled with them. He tried ignoring them, but they didn’t stop. What was worse, they ran directly south, tickling at his stomach. With a groan, he tried to brush them away. Instead of hard chitin, his fingers met smooth skin. His eyelids popped open.
Aeshma’s steely gaze met his, her pink lips curved in a seductive smile. Her fingers danced over his abdomen, inching lower. He grabbed them, stopping their progress. The smile vanished, replaced by the perfect little pout.
“Come on, Shaxie, I was only having a little fun. Thought you’d enjoy a more pleasant wake-up call than Asag pounding at your door.”
“I appreciate that, Aeshma, but I prefer to be conscious before engaging in foreplay.”
“You’re awake now.”
He heard the smile in her voice, soft and seductive. Far more subtle than her peers, the Duke of Lust used sex to get exactly what she wanted. A trait they shared. Until he knew what she wanted from him, it was best to keep their relationship less...charged. Although he was attracted to her lovely exterior, the rest of her was much like biting into a decadent chocolate only to discover shit in the center.
“As I said last night, I don’t mix business with pleasure.” Shax sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, keeping his naked back to her.
His head turned at her sharp intake of breath. Aeshma stared at his back, hand half raised.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered.
He had taken a long look at the wings inked onto his shoulders only once, in a cesspit of a motel room in Florida. The brilliant color in the cracked bathroom mirror had caught his attention, and tears of relief streamed down. For ten thousand years, he had worn leathery demon wings, the color of dried blood, but his cardinal red angel wings had returned to grace his skin. He had no explanation and, until recently, no one else to compare his wings to since he spent every waking moment avoiding both angels and demons.
Aeshma’s fingers reached out, brushing his skin below them, outlining the trailing edge.
“So few of us have wings, Shax, and I’ve seen none like these. How did you end up with angel wings?”
He shrugged and inched away. “I woke up in Florida with these tattooed on my back. That’s it.”
The duke choked out an unhappy sound. He heard rustling on her side of the bed. Soon enough, she crossed the room, hips swaying in form-fitting hot pink yoga pants. His red t-shirt dangled from a finger.
“Are you certain you don’t want a little morning pussy?” she asked.
“I have work to do, Aeshma, unless your unreliable source has reversed course in the last few hours.”
Disbelief flitted across her face, but she either accepted his statement or chose not to pursue it for the moment.
“Get dressed.” The duke tossed the shirt at him. “Come see me when you’re ready.”
Aeshma glided into the hall, and only then did Shax take a deep breath and relax his muscles. Staying out of Aeshma’s bed would be a tricky proposition if she continued her seduction campaign. There may come a time when he couldn’t refuse her without raising all kinds of misery, but today was not that day. He wanted a drink.
It was too early. Besides, he was still a little drunk from the vodka last night. He settled for a hot cup of coffee and a cold shower, finally getting his traitorous body under some semblance of control. His hook-up in St. Louis felt very long ago.
A middle-aged woman opened the door to Aeshma’s suite when he knocked a half-hour later, her long, brown hair threaded with silver and worn in a braid over one shoulder. She was tall for a human woman but still several inches shorter than Shax. Despite the silver in her hair, her face had few wrinkles. She exuded a mystical power, though definitely not a demon. A pet witch, perhaps?
“You’re late,” she said in a tired voice, her mouth twisted in annoyance as she backed away from the door.
“I didn’t know I had an appointment.”
She looked at him sharply but said nothing as she led him past a small bathroom and a kitchen, walking into a well-appointed sitting room. A TV took up most of a wall. Large, overstuffed chairs surrounded a comfortable-looking sofa. The sight would have been more inviting had he not recognized the figure sitting in a chair.
There was nothing about him that would stand out in a crowd, except for the skin-tingling, creeping sensation anyone with a brain felt when standing anywhere near the motherfucker. His average height, average build, medium-brown hair, matching brown eyes, and a placid, forgettable face were Peth’s greatest assets. His extraordinary ordinariness caught most people off guard, usually just long enough for the demon to strike.
Shax suppressed a shudder. He preferred to make his kills clean. Perhaps a quick stab to the heart or a clean cut to the throat. No muss, no fuss.
Peth was a messy bastard, enjoying nothing more than torture followed by the painful death of his victim. He was the Dukes’ favorite freelance torturer. His victims lasted days, sometimes even weeks, begging for death. Peth’s presence told him all he needed to know about the kind of duke Aeshma was.
“Hello, Peth,” he said, noticing the woman kept herself as far from the other demon as possible. He didn’t blame her one bit. The only mercy Peth granted was killing you before he ate you.
Peth grinned at him, a malicious thing full of hatred and jealousy.
“Go fetch Her Grace while I acquaint myself with...” Shax said.
“Irena,” the woman whispered.
“Duke Aeshma is otherwise occupied, Shax. She won’t appreciate your interruption,” Peth sneered, glancing at the door to Shax’s left.
Lusty moans drifted out of the room, giving him hints as to what occupied Aeshma. She had insisted he report to her as soon as he could, probably hoping he would join in. Shax sighed and shut out the distraction.
“Would you rather I tell her you failed to inform her I was here?”
Peth’s grin faded, replaced by uncertainty. He could see the gears turning in the monster’s head. Shax outranked every demon except the Dukes and Lucifer. If Peth challenged him now, he could very well end up dead. And if Aeshma wanted to know when Shax arrived, and he failed to perform that task, well...the Duke of Lust was not famous for her mercy.
“Fine, but if she’s upset, it’s coming out of your hide, not mine.”
Peth heaved himself off the chair and walked into the bedroom, the moans invading the quiet of the sitting room. Shax glimpsed Aeshma’s naked body writhing on the bed before the door shut.
“Was that wise?” Irena asked.
Shax shrugged. “It was necessary.”
Early in their acquaintance, Peth had tried to claim a soul Shax had corrupted as his own victory. Shax had beaten him nearly to death in front of Lucifer and all the Dukes. The other demon had given him a wide berth ever since.
“The best way to deal with Peth is to teach him a lesson he won’t forget. I merely reminded him of the lesson I taught him eons ago.”
Irena peered at him.
“You’re not like the others, are you?” she said, coming to some sort of conclusion.
“I’m exactly like the others,” he said, giving her his best boyish grin laced with iron. “Except when I’m not.”
He walked over to her, and she flattened against the wall attempting to keep some distance between them. Shax placed a hand flat on the wall, next to her head, and leaned in close. She watched him warily, yet she was not afraid. Curious.
“I wouldn’t do that, Shaxie,” Aeshma said, exiting the bedroom. Shax withdrew his hand and took a step away, looking over at the duke. She placed a rather large vibrator on a table next to the door, and the curve of a creamy breast disappeared under a silky dressing gown. “My sorceress is highly intelligent, unlike most of her species. She devised a spell of some sort, which makes touching her agonizing for our kind. Well, your kind. I find it a good reminder if I wish to lay a finger on the bitch, I best be prepared for some pain. Shall I demonstrate?”
Ah, that explained Irena’s lack of fear. He wondered if the woman realized she was only safe from Aeshma as long as Aeshma allowed her to be. Probably, if she was smart enough to devise the spell. No need to feel sorry for the evil sorceress; certainly no need to make friends with her. He wasn’t even sure why he’d given her the best advice he had to offer.
“That won’t be necessary, Your Grace,” Shax said.
“Oh, no, I insist.”
Aeshma closed the distance and grabbed Irena’s arm, digging her fingernails into the other woman’s flesh. The duke hissed in a breath, but after a moment, a joyless smile formed on her lips. Irena went pale, then green. The demon released her.
“Off you go, Irena, unless you’d like to wait for Peth?”
“No, Your Grace.”
Irena inspected the blood oozing out of the half-moons Aeshma’s fingernails left in her skin. She looked as though she wanted to say something else but thought better of it. Irena left, her steps quick, but she did not run. Running only encouraged the predator to chase.
Shax opened his mouth to ask about the sorceress. Although not unheard of for a demon to hire a practitioner of magic when called for, Lucifer generally gave his Dukes enough power to take care of anything they might encounter. A moment’s thought answered his unvoiced question.
With their connection to Hell gone, so were many of their powers, even the duke’s. Having a sorceress available would allow Aeshma to operate near her normal capacity. Shax shut his trap before he could embarrass himself.
The duke sat on the sofa, the split in her robe showing off her rounded thigh. Shax swallowed. Getting involved with Aeshma was nearly as bad an idea as making a blood oath to an angel. That did the trick. Any lust he felt for the duke disappeared at the mere thought of Kheone, replaced by something he chose not to poke at. He might not like what he found. Or, worse, might like it too much.
“Coffee?” he asked, heading to the kitchen.
She trailed a pink fingernail along the edge of her dressing gown, drawing his gaze to the swell of her breasts. Her full lips, the same color as her nails, pulled up into a sultry smile, but she made no mention of his obvious attempt to distance himself from her. Aeshma looked as much of a coquette as she had ever been in Louis XIV’s court. Shax took another deep breath, pushing down his natural and annoying attraction to her.
He made another cup of coffee, her predatory stare leaving a dead weight in the pit of his stomach. Leaning against the counter, he sipped at it, the warmth dispelling the dread clawing at him.
“I thought you wanted me to spy on the angels first thing,” he said, voice calm and even.
“I do, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let you renew your acquaintance with dear Peth?”
Maybe Aeshma had learned a lesson or two. This was a much more subtle reminder of her power than she usually gave. Or maybe she merely wanted another chance at him. Before the Second Fall, he rarely turned down a good time. Until he found himself in Kansas City, he hadn’t turned down a single opportunity to get his rocks off.
“And Irena? Is she your recently unreliable source?”
Aeshma waved a finger at him. “Uh uh. A lady never reveals all her secrets.”
Shax snorted, unable to keep his cynicism to himself. The duke glowered beautifully at him. He needed to watch his tendency to assholery. It would get him killed.
“What am I doing here, Aeshma?”
“I thought you might want to put off your new career as a spy. I find it’s hard to start my day without an orgasm or two. Care to join me?”
This question he could answer one hundred percent honestly.
“Thank you, but soonest started, soonest ended.”
A pretty little pout graced Aeshma’s lips. “Suit yourself.”
He stood and offered her a hand, like a proper demon would for his duke. The robe gaped open as she stood, mostly because she meant it to, offering a taste of what he was giving up.
“Goodbye, Your Grace.”
Aeshma said nothing, merely waggling her fingers at him as she slipped into the bedroom, smiling coyly as she let the robe drop. Shax turned away. He didn’t know if the contempt sweeping over him was for her or for himself for being attracted to her despite everything.