Bewitched on Bourbon Street (22 page)

The contract.

That was what he’d said he was working on. The one he was expecting me to sign after the feast tonight.

I paced my wrought iron cell, cursing my stupidity for trusting Ezra. Now that I had nothing to do but think, it seemed obvious he’d been a setup from the start. Why else had he been in that warehouse with those demons who hadn’t seemed all that intent on actually hurting anyone except Ezra? It also explained why Malstord had baited me. They’d been there to capture me and likely would have if I hadn’t issued that challenge. Why else had there been such super-powerful demons on the prowl without any other explanation?

Aiken rose from his desk, his black duster jacket sweeping behind him as he strode over to me. “The festivities are just about to begin.”

I stood with my arms crossed over my chest, glaring at him through the bars.

“And you’re the guest of honor.” He’d likely been a handsome angel at one time. Tall, broad shouldered, athletic build. Only now, his hands were gnarled, complete with misshapen talons. Scars and pockmarks marred his face. And the crown of horns sticking up through his dark hair didn’t help matters. But he did have the type of confidence that came with power. Likely he didn’t have trouble with the female demon population.

I gritted my teeth and said nothing.

“After the sacrifice, you’ll sign the contract in front of the Inner Circle.” He thrust a folded-up piece of paper between the bars. “Of course I’ll give you plenty of time to process it. It is a contract, after all.”

The paper balanced between the bars, teetering in my direction. I plucked it out and tore it in half without even looking at it.

Aiken sighed. “You disappoint me, Kane.” He glanced at the two halves now scattered on the floor of my cell. “I suggest you piece it together. You’ll be signing the original one way or another.”

“And if I don’t?”

A chilling smile spread across his ugly face. “Your wife will be the next target. And any child she conceives will be mine.” Aiken turned on his booted heel and somehow managed to glide across the cement floor without making a sound.

My breath had left me at his words. They’d go after Jade. She was powerful enough and had enough help that it was likely she could avoid capture. But she’d come after me. Chances were high they’d contain her then. And her future child.

Pain pierced my heart. If I became an agent of Hell, there wasn’t any chance for a child between the two of us. But assuming she didn’t end up right here next to me, she’d move on eventually. Start a family the way she should. Her life would continue, while mine would be here, serving Aiken.

No.

I couldn’t let them target her. I’d do anything to avoid that.

I crouched down in my empty cell, grabbed the two pieces of paper, and started to read.

Contract #9889876543.0006669

I, the incubus, demon hunter Kane Rouquette, hereby forfeit my life from this date forward till the end of eternity to Aiken the Second, son of Vilkor, in exchange for the freedom of my wife, Jade Calhoun, and any children she bears. Neither she nor her children will be targeted by any demon of Hell unless the demon’s actions are in self-defense. I shall serve in the capacity of an agent of Hell and will carry out any and all such duties as Aiken the Second orders, including but not limited to obtaining souls for the Collection.

Besides a place and date for both parties to sign, that was it. Short and to the point. I would be a slave to the demon, and my wife would be free from the agents of Hell forever. Only I highly doubted the contract would hold up when she came barreling into the place with her magic so charged she could light up a square mile.

Because if there was one thing I knew about my wife, it was that she would not sit by and let any of this happen.

Signing the contract wasn’t an option. It wouldn’t save her. Her actions would see to that. And I’d forfeit my life for nothing.

I’d just have to think of something else. Find some way to get out of this place. Be ready when her coven came looking for me.

My instinct was to burn the contract. To completely destroy it. I could do it. I had just enough power running through my veins to ignite a small flame. But as I called up my magic, usually reserved for my missing dagger, I hesitated. A nagging doubt at the back of my mind had me folding the bits of paper into a neat square. I tucked it into my back pocket and sat in the middle of my cell, waiting.

More smoke wafted in from the patio. The roasting meat made my stomach turn. It didn’t smell right. Almost rancid, as if they were barbequing roadkill. Disgusting.

A moment later, deep laughter filtered through the window, followed by the murmur of voices.

I strained to make out what they were saying, but only heard something about Aiken turning someone to gain power.

Turn who into what? An angel to demon? That didn’t make sense. Angels fell; they weren’t turned.

“Rouquette. On your feet.” One tall, thin demon with a shock of electric-green hair appeared from somewhere deep within Aiken’s residence. “Time to get this party started.”

I didn’t move from my spot on the cement floor.

“Yo, incubus.” Green Hair peered in at me, his expression disgusted. “Satan’s arse. You’re worse than useless. Tell you what. Get up on your own two feet, or I’m going to send a curse right up your backside that will sear your intestines from the inside out.”

Well, didn’t that sound pleasant.

“I’m not fucking with you.” Black magic danced at his fingertips.

Reluctantly, I rose, keeping my gaze straight ahead.

“Good, pet,” he cooed through the bars. “Now put your arms straight out and hold your hands together.”

I did as I was told, reserving any resistance for a time when I might actually have a chance of escaping this literal hell hole.

A tendril of his magic snaked from his fingers and wrapped around my wrists, creating shackles and a thick chain that wove from his fingers to the base of my restraints. Grinning, he snapped his fingers, and the smoke chain turned to steel. Green Hair nodded to himself, clearly satisfied, and gripped the chain, yanking me forward.

We stood face to face, peering at each other through the bars.

“You’ll do as I say, or else this chain will turn back into that black magic I forged it from and we’ll be talking about searing your intestines again. Got it?”

I nodded. What else was there to do? Besides fantasize about crushing his larynx so I wouldn’t have to hear any more about intestines.

With a touch of his hand on the security pad, the door on the iron cage opened. Green hair nodded to the patio. “Let’s go.”

I started to follow, but he jerked so hard on the chain, I lost my balance and went to one knee.

A satisfied gleam hit his eyes. “That’s it, incubus. Get use to kneeling for your kings.”

I silently vowed he’d be the first one I’d destroy once I got out of this mess.

Without acknowledging him, I pushed myself to my feet and followed like the obedient slave they wanted me to be.

The outside, or what passed for outside in Hell, was more of a carved-out cave with stadium-type seating of five rows on one side. Off to the right was the barbeque pit, where something unidentifiable with four legs was turning on a spit. At least it wasn’t human, thank the gods.

“This way.” Green Hair jerked me forward again, but this time I was ready for him and kept my footing.

A group of demons who’d mostly adopted human characteristics were sitting at a large wooden table, liberally drinking wine so dark it appeared the color of blood.

Green Hair pulled me up onto an ornate platform that was decorated with what appeared to be real gold-accent inlays and pointed to the larger of the two matching thrones. “Sit.”

I raised my eyebrows. The setup made it appear as if I’d be presiding over this function.

“Do it,” Green Hair barked.

Shrugging, I took my place on the throne and scowled as the hot sear of magic coated my limbs, weighing them down. The spell was in effect keeping me strapped to the chair without the actual restraints.

Green Hair snapped his fingers once more, and the black magic shackles released from my wrists and vanished. “Now we can get started.”

“Take your seat, Bevel,” Aiken said from the head of the table below. “Your service is complete.”

Bevel nodded, his green hair flopping over the side of his face. He glared at me with his one exposed eye. “Your servant will be along shortly. Take care to treat her well, or you’ll answer to me.”

The saliva gathered at the back of my throat, and I had an almost uncontrollable urge to spit in his face. I probably would have, too, if Aiken hadn’t barked, “That’s enough,
boy
. I said take your seat.”

Boy
. Interesting. Bevel was low demon on the totem pole. I filed that away for later, just in case I needed leverage.

The demons at the table ignored me for the most part, and after a while I started to wonder what exactly I was doing there. The entire scene reminded me of an afternoon frat get-together. Just a bunch of guys—or demons—hanging out drinking, with me as the pledge forced to sit patiently until they were ready for me.

I had started to doze off in the chair, ignoring the ache from sitting in the same position for so long, when a wooden door across the cave slammed open. I startled and blinked, trying to make sense of the scene in front of me.

The demons stood and nodded their greetings to three human women who’d walked in. They were all wearing small scraps of fabric that covered only their breasts, and long flowing skirts. Each was adorned with a diamond pendant and had multiple gemstone rings. The three of them were flawless in their perfection.

A group of well-dressed demons, both male and female, followed them and took their seats in the stadium.

The three women circled the table, slightly bowing to the standing demons, and then stood at the back of the room, lined up against a wall.

Aiken waved for the rest of his pack of demons to be seated. Keeping his gaze trained on the women, he walked slowly over to them, stopping in front of each one for just a moment. All three of them curtsied at his signal, making my stomach turn.

What were they doing here? Human slaves? Only they appeared to be well cared for. None of them seemed harmed. Or particularly unhappy. Maybe resigned.

Aiken finally stopped in front of the last woman. She bowed her head, but he jerked her chin up and claimed her in a kiss so fierce, the other women gasped.

I felt my eyes widen, surprised the human seemed to accept him so easily. Were they here voluntarily? I shook my head, trying to make sense of everything.

Aiken lifted the woman off her feet, pulling her closer, and as he did, a shimmer of power burst from her, engulfing them.

Holy fuck. She wasn’t a human woman. She was a sex witch.

The nausea returned full force. Less than six months ago, I’d learned incubi were the product of demons and sex witches. That demons had enslaved sex witches for hundreds of years until their offspring, the incubi, freed them. Now there were three sex witches here, in Aiken’s service.

The rage I’d been carefully holding back sprang to the surface, and if it hadn’t been for the magic restraining me in the chair, there was no doubt in my mind I’d be on my feet and gunning for Aiken. Instead, I was forced to fume on the throne and imagine eighteen different ways to tear his head off.

Aiken released the witch and stepped back as he gestured toward me. “Bianca, please take the chair beside our honored guest.”

With a sharp nod, the witch strode toward me, her shoulders back and her head held high. It wasn’t until she was a mere few feet away from me that I noticed a flash of anger in her eyes. But then she blinked, all traces of emotion gone.

I nodded a greeting.

She returned the gesture and sat perched forward on the edge of the throne as if she was trying to limit the contact between her body and the wooden structure.

Aiken moved gracefully into the middle of the cave, his arms spread wide. “Welcome, honored guests. As you’re well aware, tonight is a special night. The night I officially announce my intention to run for the Minister of the Damned. And now that I have Malstord’s defeater as my devoted servant, support for our cause will reach critical mass.”

A cheer rose from the crowd, but the two witches standing near the wall stayed still and silent.

I seethed. It appeared not only was Aiken trying to force me to forfeit my life to him, he also planned to use me in some political power struggle. How Malstord fit into that, I wasn’t sure. But the fact that I’d beaten him in the challenge obviously had something to do with it.

Aiken moved back to the table and poured a large glass of the dark wine. The cheering from the crowd grew louder. His self-satisfied smile grated on my nerves.

Holding the wine high in the air, Aiken strode over to the spit and tore off one of the short legs with his bare hand.

Grease slipped through his talon fingers, and with a roar of triumph, he bit into the flesh, tearing a large hunk of meat from the bone. Juices dribbled down his chin as he chewed and jabbed the leg in the air in some sort of sign of victory.

A frenzy rippled through the crowd, and my unease intensified. A room full of rowdy demons was the last thing I needed.

Aiken turned toward us. He barely glanced at me before his lust-filled gaze swept over Bianca, lingering on her ample cleavage.

She sat stock still, staring straight ahead the way assault victims did in order to survive the ordeal.

My blood ran hot, and my arms involuntarily strained against the magic. There was nothing I could do but sit there and watch Aiken violate her with his mind. Disgust ate away at my soul. And I vowed right then and there that before this was over, I’d do everything I could to end him. One way or another, the cocky demon was living on borrowed time.

Aiken finally lifted his gaze to meet Bianca’s and said, “Release the incubus.”

“What?” I said, eyeing the witch. Of course I knew she had power, but it hadn’t occurred to me the demons let her use it. If I could make an ally of her then—