Demons of Desire (3 page)

“I didn’t know either!” I dashed the back of my hand across my eyes to wipe away the tears. “Darci, I swear I didn’t know until a few months ago. I wanted to tell you — I was desperate to tell you. Can you imagine how I felt finding this out? But how could I share it with anyone, even you? Would you have believed me, telling you this sort of thing over the phone? Heck, you hardly believe me now, and you saw what I did to that tree.”

The waitress arrived with another round of drinks, and Darci sipped the beer, staring intently at her bowl of red beans. I waited for her to speak, dreading what she might say.

“What kind of demon are you?” Darci asked, her voice tremulous. “Are you killing humans? Causing war? Taking souls?”

“Sex. I’m half succubus.” I wasn’t about to kill again — never, ever again.

Darci’s shoulders relaxed, and she finally looked at me. “Why does that not surprise me?” The beginnings of a wry smile twitched at the edges of her lips. “If that’s all, then I guess we’re good. I can deal with a tree–healing elf and nympho demon. Basically you’re the same Amber I’ve known for the past three years, only with different labels.”

“Being a succubus isn’t one big happy porno.” I didn’t want Darci to make light of this. I wasn’t the same Amber she’d known for years. Even I wasn’t really sure what I was. “I have sex with people and take energy from them during the act.”

“Does it hurt?” Darci leaned forward, elbows on the table.

“No, but my partners are linked to me for the rest of their lives. Every time they have sex, or masturbate, or even get turned on, I get a hit of energy from them.”

Darci shrugged. “Doesn’t sound too bad. If it doesn’t hurt them, and they have a fun toss with you, then what’s so wrong about that?”

“I’m a parasite. That’s what’s wrong.

“Parasites kill their hosts.” A smiled played around my friend’s mouth. “I’m thinking this is more like a symbiotic relationship.”

“I may not kill my host, but it’s hardly symbiotic. That would mean my victims actually got an equal benefit out of the deal. A lifetime of obsession and me getting a free ride on their energy isn’t actually a benefit.”

Darci rolled her eyes. “Girl, if Zac Efron came waltzing through the doorway and gave me one night of mind–blowing passion, I wouldn’t say ‘no’. And trust me, I’d be thinking of him every time I did the deed for the rest of my life. He’d be welcome to any energy in exchange. Seriously, what makes you think these ‘victims’ don’t benefit?”

“Yeah, but how would you feel about a husband that saw another woman’s face every time you made love? One who constantly fantasized that he made love to me as he rocked the bed with you?”

Darci grimaced. “Okay. Point taken. That would suck big–time. So it’s all or nothing then? Every time you have sex, you leave the guy totally obsessed?”

“Yeah. But that’s only half the burden. I’ll never marry, never have a real relationship. I’ll never love. The moment I have sex with a guy, it all fizzles to nothing, and I never want to see him again.”

That was what troubled me about the whole circumstance of my birth. Yes, the predator thing was bothersome, but I’ll admit that, selfishly, the denial of any future with a life–partner hurt the worst. Darci extended a hand to pat mine and clasped my fingers tight. Her eyes were full of sympathy as they met mine.

“I love you. Maybe you’ll not have the white dress and picket fence, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have caring relationships. Redefine love, Amber. And stop freaking out about this. It’s who you are — you can’t change that. Find a way to live with it that’s acceptable.”

I
was
freaking out. I always did, except I usually buried it deep inside under a calm, composed exterior. What I didn’t understand was how
Darci
wasn’t freaking out even more so then her initial disbelief and brief anger. She’d watched me perform magic — something that defied all logic. I’d confessed things that should have put me in the hospital with an IV full of anti–psychotic drugs. All that, and she’d shrugged it off. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.

“Thanks.” I gripped her fingers back.

Darci released my hand to raise her beer in salute. She had that narrowed–eye look that she always got when she was up to something. I clinked glasses with her, wondering what my friend was plotting.

“So, this sex demon thing might not be so bad after all. I’ve got an idea.”

Uh oh. Darci with an idea was scary. The woman was an unstoppable force when she got something in her noggin. I should know — I had been her freshman roommate.

“You’re not happy about draining energy and creating an obsession in your partners, but what if you target only bad guys — you know, sociopaths, con–artists, rapists.”

I choked on my beer. “Jesus, Darci! I’m not making a naked version of a citizen’s arrest. What I do involves intimacy. I’m not having sex with sociopaths and rapists!”

Darci grimaced. “Okay, so having sex with crazies and criminals wouldn’t be my choice either, but how about those hot guys who treat women like a nameless piece of ass? They’re fun to bang. You don’t care about seeing them afterward, and it would be a karmic kind of revenge. Yeah, you’d be like Batman for all us jilted women.”

I might be half demon, but at times like this, I truly wondered about Darci’s parentage.

“You’re really hung up on this vigilante–with–license–to–fuck thing. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a decent idea, but it would take me forever to research my ‘victims’. I wouldn’t want to nail some blameless guy just because a bitter ex–girlfriend made up an ugly story.”

“True.” She pursed her lips, tapping the edge of her glass with a finger. “Okay, let’s forget about the whole crime–fighting succubus thing. How about guys who like one–night stands? Cute, non–criminal ones.”

That gave me pause. There were plenty of men out there who didn’t want a relationship, who would relish a fleeting moment of passion. Maybe I just needed to narrow down my candidate pool to those who were looking for what I was best suited to give.

“And don’t think I’m not connecting the dots between this revelation of yours and that sexy ‘life coach’ you’re running away from. Spill it, girl.”

Damn Darci. Nothing got past her. I took a long swig of the beverage and rubbed my temple — a combination of the cold drink and topic change giving me a sudden headache.

“He’s a full sex demon sent from Hel to help me better control my ‘urges’. I’m not willing to turn into the amoral succubus he wants me to be. He’s pissed that I won’t go all Mata Hari on every guy I see, so we’re at a bit of an impasse.”

“And you want him,” Darci prompted, her dark eyes gleaming with vicarious excitement.

I rested the cold glass against my suddenly feverish forehead. “You should see him. Zac Efron would look fugly next to him. Damn … he’s just… .”

“Pics? Why have I not seen this sexy demon on Instagram yet?”

I grimaced. “He’s got an ego the size of a house. I’m not going to let him catch me snapping his picture with my phone, or include him in a selfie. I’d never hear the end of it.”

Darci leaned closer. “Okay then, describe him. If you’re this worked up about a guy, he’s got to be a god.”

He was. Everything any woman or man ever wanted. Either the way he looked now, or otherwise. A flash of light and he could be anything — man, woman, blond, dark, tall, thin, muscular. Dream, and he would oblige. This was the magic of a sex demon — an ultimate fantasy in the flesh.

“Demons can change form like an outfit, but for me he’s always appeared to be a Mediterranean playboy — high cheekbones, sharp jaw and chin, with olive skin. His eyes are very light brown — like a tiger’s–eye gemstone, and he’s got the darkest brown hair. It’s so soft — like silk, like mink. I just want to bury my face in it, to fist it in my hands all night long.”

That was a huge admission. I was on a roll, pouring my entire obsession across our table, knowing that Darci would sympathize. She was like my confessor — a voyeuristic confessor.

“Oh. My. God.”

I couldn’t stop. “We fight, and when he’s angry with me, he’s even sexier. It’s all I can do to keep from jumping him. His eyes glow like molten gold, and his lips — oh, his lips. So full and soft. To lick them, to bite them, would be a little bit of heaven.”

My imagination ran wild envisioning kissing Irix. He’d taste of rum and bitter–sweet chocolate, and the skin across his chest and down would have a tang of salt and sun. A trail of soft, light hair would lead the way toward his hips. My hands on his ass would feel the solid tightness of his muscles. He’d be rock against me, urging—

“Amber.”

Darci’s voice was raw, full of need, and I looked up to realize I’d been releasing my pheromones in a tide across the room. Most of the occupants of the restaurant were looking my way with intent, and my own friend was seriously turned on. Shit. How could I do this without even intending to? I had only to think of Irix and
I
was halfway to orgasm.

I ratcheted it down a few notches and grimaced. “Sorry.”

My friend shook her head, and the look in her eyes made me feel like everything would be okay — not just today, but for the rest of my life.

“Good Lord, girl. Anybody that does that to you isn’t somebody you should be running away from. Take this week to get your head on straight then go back home, or to hell or wherever, and reel that man in like a fish on a line.”

4

T
he line stretched all the way down the block and around the corner. Women in absurdly high heels and scanty bits of fabric chatted or typed numbly on phones. Further up the line, there were slumped shoulders, shoes draped over wrists, and sweat stained dresses. The men were worse off. They were drenched in perspiration.

I eyed the building with its graffiti–covered block walls and rusted sign proclaiming the club to be “Nations”. Hard to believe from the exterior that this was one of the hottest new clubs in the city. It didn’t seem all that impressive, but the music booming from the door was a siren song.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Gabriella urged. “I don’t want to spend half my evening standing in line.”

I’d been introduced to Gabriella and Erica — Darci’s friends, who, after glaring at me suspiciously for a few moments, were finally making tentative overtures of friendship. I was used to it. Women were so competitive. Most I met were reserved until they realized I wasn’t a diva and wasn’t hell–bent on stealing their boyfriend material. There was no honor among sex demons, but I was only a half–breed. If a friend was interested in someone, I wasn’t about to go poaching. Plenty of fish in the sea.

“It probably won’t take that long,” Jordan argued.

I was a little concerned to see her among the group that met us at Darci’s tiny shotgun apartment. Outside of watching me like I was an exotic circus animal, she’d kept mum about this afternoon’s events.

“Hey,” she shouted to a couple, about twenty from the door. “How long have you been waiting?”

The man turned dead eyes towards us. “Two hours. Probably another one before we get in. Those at the back won’t be in before sunup.”

Shit. That was just insane. I was ready to agree with Gabriella when I caught Darci giving me an odd look. Oh no. No way. I’d done this before, but not before I’d known what I was.

“Amber, can you get us in?”

The three other girls turned to me in surprise. “What, are you a celebrity?” Erica asked. “Is the owner boning you or something?”

Not if I had anything to do with it. Still, I felt the monster stir inside me at the thought.
Yes, please.
No. No, no, no.

“Amber has a way with these things. She totally got us out of that speeding ticket this winter, and that time we were drinking beers in the park, the cop let us go. He even let us keep the beers!”

I squirmed. That had been before, when I thought I’d just inherited the Lowry sweet–talking skills. Now that I knew what was
really
going on, I was reluctant to use my special abilities. Darci should have known better than to ask me after my revelation this afternoon, but she’d been rather blasé about the whole thing. This was evidently just a perk, in her opinion.

“I don’t really think it will work this time… .” Lame. Of course it would work. It always worked. And my friend knew it, too.

“Oh, just give it a shot. What’s the worst that can happen?”

I knew the worst that could happen, and even though I tried not to think about it, visions of me fucking the doorman flashed through my head. Great, now the monster really was awake and wanting to come out and play. No. Absolutely not.

I took a deep breath and walked up to the front of the line, determined to do this like the human I’d always thought I was. Darci and her friends followed me, whispering encouragement. The doorman’s back was to me, facing some altercation beyond the roped area. As I approached, I saw two bouncers wrestling a short, stout man from the bar, his friends protesting loudly. I waited until the evicted guy and his buddies had staggered down the street before turning on the charm. No sense in trying to compete with a pot–bellied man so drunk he could hardly stand. I might be a half–succubus, but I’d stand a good chance of losing that competition.

“Hi.”

He turned, eyebrows rising as he saw me by the rope. I put on my brightest smile, and the doorman’s eyes did the usual male tour. Start at the top and work their way down, pausing significantly at the cleavage. I gave him plenty of time to take it all in while the elf in me preened. I was pretty. More than pretty. That alone should be enough to open doors.

Nope.

“End of the line is way back there. Around the end of the block.”

At least he sounded like he regretted it. His eyes snagged again on my lips before dropping back to the boobs. I sighed dramatically, and he was riveted by their movement.

“Are you sure? I’m from out of state and really wanted to come here.”

The monster inside me took that statement all wrong. I felt her banging on the cage.
Yes, I do want to come here. More than once. With several partners.
I pushed her back and smiled at the doorman, raising an arm to brush back my hair, fully aware of what that did to the breasts barely contained within the plunging neckline of my dress.