Demons of Desire (21 page)

Darci kissed me on the cheek. “Text me. And stop freaking out.”

I gave her hand a quick squeeze and stepped away from the bar, my stomach in knots. Freaking out was a gross understatement. I wondered briefly how sexy Irix would think I was if I puked on his feet.

“A bar full of randy tourists and you still couldn’t find anyone?” Irix asked, looking around at the crowded room. “How about that guy?”

Raccoon Man was trying to get Erica’s attention by pawing the air beside her. Ugh.

“My friend already staked a claim on that one, and Gabriella scored the only vampire in the bar earlier this evening. Doesn’t leave much else. Slim pickings tonight.”

Irix tucked my hand in the crook of his arm and led me out onto the sidewalk. “Well, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow, and I intend to make sure you’re successful. Let’s get you powered up, and back to full strength.”

That was the least romantic thing anyone had ever said to me. Getting “powered up” wasn’t the tiniest bit sexy. I guess I needed to get used to this; after tonight, we’d be coolly platonic. My stomach twisted even more.

“Come on, Amber. Where would you prefer we do this?”

He sounded like we were off to sign contracts or conduct a routine business transaction, like it didn’t matter at all to him. Irritation, trepidation, and longing all warred within me. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t. Not if my one night was going to be all about “powering me up”.

“Maui.”

There. That should put the whole thing off for quite a while. We’d argue, I’d get another extension and head off to that Bliss club. Irix sighed and gave me an exasperated look.

“How about somewhere within the city limits?”

I tried to think of some place that might have a six–month waiting list, but knowing him, he’d charm his way right in the door.

“Am I not good enough for Maui? Perhaps
you’d
be satisfied to get it on behind a dumpster in some back alley, but I’m not. Maui.”

He quickly bit back a smile. “I can see I’m just going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

He tightened his hold on my arm and hurried me down the street. I didn’t resist, and I’ll admit a thrill went through me at his words. This was a bit sexier than “powering up”.

“What are you doing? Where are we going?”

“I’m not telling you. You’ll just argue and come up with a million reasons why you don’t want to go there or do that.”

I hesitated a step, and he halted. My uncertainty must have shown in my face, because his gaze softened, and he let go of my arm.

“Trust me, Amber.”

I did. It was me I didn’t trust. What tonight would bring was inevitable, though. I might as well enjoy it and stop fretting over the aftermath. I nodded and reached out to take his hand. The grin that lit up his face made it all worthwhile.

“Okay. Although I still would prefer Maui.”

He laughed, and we strolled down the street hand–in–hand.

“You’re a pain in the ass, elf–girl.”

I skipped a step to keep up, squeezing his hand. “I can be. If you like that sort of thing, I’d be happy to oblige.”

His hand gripped mine back. “Be careful what you offer, little half–breed. You have no idea the things I enjoy.”

His tone was light and teasing, but I shivered, reminded that this was a demon I was playing with. Too bad there would only be one night for us, because a part of me really did want to discover all the things he enjoyed.

22

W
e walked for a bit through the French Quarter, pausing to listen to a street musician on his horn. After a few blocks, Irix led me to a long, three–story, brick house with flickering natural gas lanterns in wrought–iron hangers at each corner. Forest–green shutters closed the windows off from prying eyes. The long row of fencing matched the shutters and equally ensured privacy in what I assumed was the garden area. In addition to several traditional–style locks, the main entrance had a magical one, opening only when Irix sent a trickle of energy through the metal bolt.

The door opened to a huge foyer with ornate white trim and elegant wood furniture. Off to the right, double–pocket doors showed a room decorated with an eclectic mix of Victorian and modern. Gas light fixtures flanked a small unlit fireplace; leather couches sat on scarlet oriental rugs. The walls were covered with gold brocade wallpaper and dotted with landscape oil paintings.

“Whose house is this?” I was a bit concerned. Irix seemed to make a habit of appropriating things that didn’t belong to him. I didn’t want the angry owners confronting us with breaking and entering charges, or, worse, discover them butchered in a back closet.

“Mine.”

Was he lying, or did he really consider all his stolen goods to be his own? Demons weren’t well known for truthfulness. Before I could question him further, Irix walked toward the back of the foyer and into an enormous, modern kitchen. I followed and watched him pull out wine glasses, and a few other items.

“Follow me.”

He headed back to the foyer and up the sweeping stairs. I hesitated, realizing what he probably had in mind. He could have been a little more erotic than ‘follow me’, but at least he intended to give me a glass of wine first. I took a deep breath to strengthen my resolve and followed him up.

By the time we’d reached the end of the hallway on the third floor, I was confused. We’d passed several serviceable–looking bedrooms. Where the heck was he going? Silent, he handed me the wine glasses then made a smooth leap, catching a little knotted rope hanging from the ceiling. A square pulled free, and as he landed, a wooden ladder unfolded. He took the glasses from my hands and climbed.

I waited a second for him to turn on a light, and when none appeared, I followed him up. Hot, humid air hit me as my head popped up above the attic floor.

“Over here.”

My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I realized Irix was standing in front of a large window. The attic had three sets of dormers, giving the roof added height and allowing faint light from outside into the room. With a twist of his wrist, the window opened outward like a small French door.

“Be careful. There’s a ridge right in front of the opening, to keep the rain from leaking in. Don’t trip.”

Jazz music filled my ears, and the tang of the river surrounded me as I carefully made my way through the opening. The incubus’ hand found mine, and I heard the glasses clink as he led me across the rooftop terrace to a sofa. The lights of the city spread out to the rear. In front of us churned the Mississippi River, only a half block away, illuminated by lights along the shore and the occasional boat. A breeze lifted my hair, and I realized that the temperature up here was about ten degrees less than at street level. After settling me on the sofa, Irix sat down beside me and opened the top of a small stool to reveal a cooler.

“I can turn on the lights if you like, but it detracts from the view.” He opened a bottle of champagne and skillfully poured it into the two glasses, shoving the bottle back into the ice of the cooler before handing me one.

“I like it here in the dark.” I did. It was private somehow, like we were invisible to the world. Just a demon and I, drinking champagne and looking out at the city.

“How did you wind up with a house like this?” I was half afraid to know the answer.

“A friend left it to me when she died. It’s been interesting juggling the title around since she passed away a century ago, but I wanted to keep it. Lots of good memories here.”

“Oh.” So nothing nefarious then, unless he was the one who instigated her ‘passing away’. I didn’t get that from his tone of voice, though.

He turned to face me, putting his drink down. “I thought it a strange coincidence that you chose to run here to escape me, when it’s the only place that I own property. New Orleans is like a second home to me.”

It was odd. If I’d believed in some kind of divine intervention, in fate, then I would have read all sorts of things into this. I didn’t believe in that sort of thing. Or did I?

“Amber, what’s wrong? I show up from Hel thinking I’m just going to help a young half–breed with her skills, and make sure she doesn’t kill anyone in the process. Instead, I find a rebellious succubus who refuses to do anything I ask, and is determined to deny, or kill, a portion of who she is.”

“I don’t want that part of myself. I want to be human, or just a half–elf, but I don’t want anything to do with this monster inside me. She hurts people; she uses them. That’s not me.”

“It
is
you. There is no this half or that half; there is only you. Once you figure that out, you can stop trying to make yourself into something you’re not.”

There had always been a monster inside me, one who killed the man I’d believed was my father. I thought I’d conquered her, only to have her come roaring to life again a few months ago. But that wasn’t my only problem.

“I’ll never love. Every man I sleep with becomes uninteresting to me the next day. There will never be a relationship, a marriage with children for me, only a string of one–night stands.”

“That’s crap, Amber. You love your brother, your sister, your friend Darci. You love plenty of people. You’re kind, loyal, and caring. So you’ll never have the traditional marriage. How many humans get that anyway? And how many are truly happy with it? Sometimes the life you get isn’t the one you wanted. That doesn’t make what you have any less wonderful, just different.”

I sat in silence, a huge lump in my throat. He couldn’t understand. I’d live for thousands of years, watching my friends and family die. I could never have what they had. At least he had other demons back in Hel — a home he belonged in, people just like him to live his life alongside. I had no one. I wasn’t an elf, wasn’t human, wasn’t a full demon — just a beautiful freak; lonely and scared.

I felt his arm around me, his hand rubbing down my back.

“I won’t give you my energy if you don’t want it. We’ll figure out a way to work the magic on the levees tomorrow without it. There are other covens in the city — maybe you can use their energy in a ritual. If you really hate this part of yourself, then I’m not going to try to force you to accept it.”

He stood up and walked to the edge of the roof, his shoulders slumped. I felt like shit. Once again I’d hurt some guy — this time a two–thousand–year–old demon. I thought back on what Jordan had said, about my demon energy fueling my elf powers. Maybe that’s why the elf in me had always been so silent. I was starving her out too. That part of me I’d always thought was human? Maybe that was the real Amber — the Amber that happened when I stopped thinking of myself as half this and half that, and just
was
.

My eyes drank in the sight of Irix — the way his shirt strained across the muscles of his back and shoulders, the way his pants hugged his backside. The physical attraction I felt for him at that moment had nothing to do with pheromones, nothing to do with any sex–demon magic. It was more than the simple attraction of a woman for a man. I found him irresistible — all of him. The crooked smile, the faint dimple in his left cheek, the way his eyes became molten gold as they looked at me. He was sexy when he was angry, sexy when he was teasing, sexy when he was gentle and caring. I loved his laugh, his quick humor. I loved his sense of honor, so unexpected in a demon. I loved that he was smart, that he could keep up with me, even best me, when it came to knowledge and intelligence.

I loved him.

“Your fichus is dying.”

Irix turned around and watched as I stood and walked to the row of plants in a tall box. They served as a nice divider between his terrace and the steeper section of the roof, but the normal deep green of the leaves was spotted with brown, the edges curled inward. I could see this even in the dim light — actually feel the imbalance in the plants. My fingers caressed the leaves, following the stems down to touch the soil. Uneven water supply, excess phosphorus, burning of the leaves from midday watering. I felt Irix move to stand behind me, and I inhaled deep to catch his unusual dark–chocolate scent.

“What should I do?” he asked.

The leaves straightened, brown brightening to lush green. Pink flowers burst from the depths of the foliage, unfolding to drink in the night.

“Fire your gardener.” I turned around to face him. “And kiss me.”

He leaned close, tracing my bottom lip. “Here?” he whispered. The finger moved to caress my breast, brushing the raised nipple with the lightest of touches. “Here?” His hand smoothed down my waist and stomach, down my thigh then back up the skirt of my dress to rest between my legs. “Or here? Where should I kiss you, Amber?”

Damn. He was just the sexiest thing I’d ever known.

“All of the above.”

The playboy façade cracked, and for a brief second I saw the complexity beneath the beautiful face. Lighthearted but intense, dangerous but kind, controlled but wildly abandoned.

Irix wrapped an arm around my waist, but instead of pulling me toward him, he pushed, lifting me upward with a hand cupped around my ass. I gasped, feeling the hard concrete of the roof ledge under me, my back pushing the planter, fichus and all, further back. His mouth crashed over mine, his hands moving upward to keep me from plunging backward off the roof. Nothing was keeping the planter in place, though. I felt it shift, felt the sudden absence of it against me, then heard a splintering crash and several yells.

My chest shook, and I giggled against his lips, the strangeness of laughing while being kissed just as amusing as us nearly braining some poor passerby with a potted plant. Irix began to laugh too. He tilted his head, resting his forehead against mine while still holding me tight on the roof ledge.

The danger of it all — being suspended three stories up with only Irix between me and a nasty death on asphalt and concrete. I trusted him, trusted that he wouldn’t let me go.

“You’ve got a lot of kissing to do. Better get cracking there, demon.”

He caught his breath on the exhale, and once again sealed my lips with his. His mouth was just as much of a contradiction as he was — both soft and firm against mine. I opened for him — lips allowing his tongue entry, and legs giving him room to push his thigh through to rub against me.