A Demon And Her Scot (Welcome To Hell) (5 page)

Panic made a man do stupid things. A prime example would be dumping the female he’d just brought to climax on her delectable ass with a lame excuse. He did need some fresh air, even if he no longer technically breathed. A hyperventilating vampire would have been hard to explain. When he returned to his abode, after dragging in large lungfuls of sea air, punching a few rocks, and giving himself a pep talk about not letting her get under his skin—or on top of his cock again—she didn’t kill him or burst into tears or yell at him for awhile. Nope. Instead, with the regal bearing of a queen, while wearing a worn sheet, she ordered him to, “Get dressed. We’ve leaving for the inner circle. Now.” Under her breath, she muttered, “Asshole.”

Okay, so he deserved the unflattering name she called him
, and the dirty looks she shot him as they trekked to the nearest portal when he decided to meekly obey rather than fight her any further. She deserved some compensation for his less-than-chivalrous behavior.

In his defense, he’d had to act like an asshole. It was the only way he could quickly separate himself from her after fucking her a second glorious time because he’d no sooner come inside her delectable body than he wanted her again.

Again!

Niall
wasn’t even sure he liked the lass, and she certainly didn’t like him. Yes, she intrigued him. No denying she made his cock hard. But that was no excuse for wanting to cuddle her after sex. Not a good enough reason to want to take her to bed, hike her legs over his shoulders, and make her scream a third time.

And a fourth. Maybe even a fifth.

He didn’t understand it. He’d gone centuries without needing to even tug one off. Gone ages without even the slightest twinge in his dick. She sauntered in to his life, and suddenly, he turned into a rutting fucking beast? Worse, a beast who felt things? For her?

Unacceptable. He should chop her head off now for having obviously bewitched him. That had to be it. She’d cast some sort of spell on him. Some kind of love spell or enchantment that made him desire her and want to shower her with attention and worship every inch of her body. Made him want to…

Yeah, with that train of thought running through his head, was it any wonder he didn’t indulge in post-coital cuddling but dumped her on her perfect ass? Now if only her unflattering view of him would help him to see her as nothing more than a woman he’d fucked. Instead, all he could do as he stomped along behind her was wonder how she’d look bent over taking his cock. How she’d look splayed on a bed covered in red satin, her hair spread about her, her lips parted and panting.

Time to change his train of thought, and fast before he made some of his fantasies come to life. “So
, how did ye become one of Satan’s hunters?”

“I fucked the wrong man. Turns out his wife didn’t appreciate his straying.”

“I wouldn’t have taken ye for the type to steal another woman’s husband.”

“I wasn’t. He lied.”

“About more than one thing apparently. He was one of those gods you mentioned earlier?”

“One and the same. His wife was a goddess pretty high up the food chain as well. ”

He whistled. “You’re lucky ye didn’t die.”

“Greek gods are known for their melodramatic nature. In this case, the goddess thought cursing me would make more of a statement. A permanent reminder to her straying husband, for one.”

“It was my understanding another person can’t promise your soul to Lucifer.”

“No, but a goddess can turn a mortal into a demon with the right spell and sacrifice.”

“Fucked the wrong man indeed.” Even more curious now, he had to ask. “Which one did ye piss off?”

“Hera.”

“As in the Greek goddess hitched to that hairy fellow with the lightning bolts?”

“The one married to Zeus. That would be the one. But he wasn’t hairy at the time, and I didn’t know who he was or that he had a wife. The
bastard.”

“So ye are a demon, not a damned soul? Or a contracted one?”

“Oh, I have a contract with Lucifer. Not for my soul, though. In exchange for my services, I get to use my mortal form.”

“You mean you have another side like one of them shape
-shifters?”

“I do.”

“So what do you turn into? Hellcat? Sexy demoness with a tail and horns? Slavering beast with fangs and warts?”

He grinned at the rude gesture and look she shot his way. “I am glad to see you find my plight entertaining.”

“And ye are not answering my question. What are ye when ye are not a sexy, toga-wearing harpy?” He paused walking as it hit him. “Don’t tell me you’re a harpy for real?”

Whirling in her tracks, she planted her hands on her hips and retorted
, “Do I look like a chicken-legged hag?”

“Nay, but you just said your contract with Lucifer let ye keep your human shape.”

“Because my demon shape is that of a lamia.”

“A what?”

“Lamia? Half woman, half snake.”

“Fascinating.”

“Not really.”

“Does this mean ye are not gonna show me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Will you play golf?”

“Nay.”

“Then I guess we’ll both have to live with the disappointment.”

For now.
Niall made a mental note to find out more about this so-called lamia demon form. For curiosity’s sake, of course.

The nearest portal back to Hell took them a few hours to reach. It wouldn’t have been needed if his lass had enough magic to create a translocation door for two. As for his amulet, the magic only went one way, back to his tower. He’d only ever gotten it because the nearest pub to his home wasn’t in crawling distance. When a man could sober up before he got halfway to his bed, he needed a better mode of transportation.

He’d still not figured out why he agreed to come. Once he dumped the lass on her naked ass, he could have easily gotten away. With a head start to escape, even the wiliest of hunters would have found it difficult to track him in the wilds of the ninth circle. But he didn’t run away.

Instead, he’d pulled out a clean, if dusty, plaid, found her another plaid she could wrap toga style—and which she almost didn’t wear for long. The sight of her dressed in his colors made his rambunctious cock swell with lust. Fuck did he want to sink into her glorious sex again.

And he wasn’t the only one, apparently.

Walking into the town, more of a tiny village filled with an eclectic mix of inhabitants, he couldn’t help but notice the interest she garnered. Make that male interest. He didn’t like it one fucking bit.

“Any reason why you’re growling, Scot?”

“I’m not growling.”

“Yes, you are. And showing some fang. Hungry for a snack?”

Not unless you’re on the menu.
He thought it, but didn’t say it. In lieu of answering her second question, he chose to answer her initial question. “You’re drawing a lot of attention.”

“Welcome to my world. It’s like this everywhere I go. Males find me attractive.”

“Conceited, are we?”

“Nope. Just stating a fact. Trust me when I say it’s not something I enjoy. Demons and other folk see a pair of tits, and they seem to think they can touch.”

“They do, do they?” he rumbled in a low voice.

“Yup. Then I show them the error of their ways. Usually in a permanent fashion. Unfortunately, unlike my friend Katie, my reputation doesn’t stop them from trying again.”

“Who’s Katie?”

“Put it this way, she makes me seem downright gentle. Word of warning, whatever you do, don’t go near her.”

“Why not?”

“Because her boyfriend is liable to kill you while she cheers him on.”

“Sounds like someone I’d like to meet. If she’s attractive, I’ve got no problem helping her become single again. My sword might be rusty, but its edge is still sharp.”

Yellow eyes, narrow with fury, glared up at him as Aella stood practically on his toes. “Stay away from Katie.”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll carve your cock off myself.”

“Why, lass, if I didn’t know better, I’d say ye sounded jealous.”

“Never.”

Before she could turn away on that lie, he looped an arm around her waist and drew her up on tiptoe. Lips practically touching, he whispered, “Ye are gorgeous when angry. It’s making me horny. Wanna fuck?”

Apparently, she wasn’t as turned on as he was.

“Fucking hell,” he yelled as she stomped his toes with her damnable—yet still sexy—boots.

Away she spun, ass swinging tartly. “Pig.”

Yeah, she insulted him, but was he the only one who noticed how he retained all his limbs? What a woman. Smiling, he stalked after her, leaving a path of body parts behind as he lopped off the limbs of some gawkers. He did have a reputation to maintain for being a miserable, ornery bastard after all.

They located the portal, its guardian changing its mind about charging them a fee when Aella pulled forth her axe, and they arrived in the inner ring, a place Niall hadn’t visited since pretty much his arrival. It hadn’t changed much. This close to the furnace of Hell, the ash sifted in a constant swirling dust, giving the buildings and locale around them a desertlike feel as the fine grit coated everything and heaped itself in mounds against walls.

Up they marched to the Lord of Sin’s castle, the gates swinging open with an ominous creak, intentional, of course. Lucifer did so enjoy the right ambiance. No one stopped them as they made their way in to the keep, the clack of her boots echoing in the vast, soaring hall, the ribbed ceiling arching high overhead.

The secretary, a warted goblinlike creature
, waved them through, and Niall entered Lucifer’s office on Aella’s heels.

“Here’s your Scot,” she announced, flopping into one of the leather-bound club chairs. The
lord of the pit, lining up a putt on his indoor green, didn’t even look up. Niall winced as he pulled back—too far—swung, and hit the golf ball much too hard, sending it pinging across the green in a wide arc away from the hole to land amidst a clutter of other white orbs.

Watching Lucifer play was a form of torture worse than many Niall had experimented with over the years.

With a curse, the most feared demon of all bent his putter into a pretzel and tossed it in a corner with the rest of the scrap metal. He had to give credit to the lord of the pit; he didn’t give up.

Pivoting to face them, Lucifer deigned to greet them. His lips stretched into a smile, not the most reassuring thing. “You found him!”

“As if there was any doubt.” Aella hiked her legs over the arm of the chair and examined her nails. “So does this mean I’m done? My manicurist is expecting me at three.”

“Done. For now. But don’t go too far. I might have need of your services soon.”

It wasn’t until the lass made it to the door that Niall realized—with a pang of irritation—he’d rather not see her go. But short of begging her to stay or tackling her—which probably wouldn’t go over well—he saw no way of keeping her at his side.
And I don’t want her at my side.
On his cock, yes, but that was just his finally awakened libido speaking. He had no interest in the woman herself, and he’d prove it. As soon as his meeting with Lucifer ended, he’d visit a brothel. He just needed to empty his sac a few times, and next thing he knew, she’d end up a distant memory.

“Quite the woman, isn’t she?” Lucifer remarked.

“What?” Caught staring, Niall almost stammered. He focused his attention away from the empty door to the Lord of Hell. “More like a pain in my arse. Do ye know the lass gave me a shave and a haircut?”

“Did she charge you for it?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Then why complain?”

“Because—ye know what, never mind. Why did ye send her after me?”

“I need you to help me improve my golf game.”

“Impossible.”

“Listen, Scot, I know you’re still miffed about the whole things-not-turning-out-like-you-expected thing, but that was centuries ago. Isn’t it time you got over it?”

“I am over it.” And it surprised him to realize that maybe he was. But that still didn’t change his mind. “However, when I said impossible, I meant more that I can’t help you.”

“Why not?”

“Because ye suck. Golf is not your sport.” Crossing his arms, Niall stated it baldly and waited for Lucifer to strike him dead.

Instead, the Lord of Sin laughed. “Finally, someone who says it aloud. Do you know you’re the only one with the balls to admit it?”

“My father always did say I had a large set. If it’s any consolation, I’ve seen your brother play, and he sucks too.”

“Ha. And he thinks he’s so fucking almighty.”

“The Lord of Limbo, however, and that Zeus fellow, if they’ve been practicing, they could play a decent game.”

That shut Lucifer up. “So you think they’ll win the match?”

“Depends.”

“On?”