Goddamn it! To hell with caution!
He dipped his head and sank his lips onto her nipple, sucking it and caressing it with his tongue, while he moved his hand farther south. Over her stomach, down her toned thigh and even farther to the hem of her negligee. He pulled on it, but it was entangled with her bathrobe, so he tugged harder.
“Ouch!” she cried out.
He instantly stopped, his head whipping back, his eyes searching for the cause of her pain. He found it instantly. Blood was seeping from her knee—the very knee that had gotten injured during her fall earlier.
“Shit!” he cursed and stared at her.
Tessa avoided his gaze and nervously pulled her robe over her torso.
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled and lifted her off his lap as quickly and as gently as he could without further injuring her. “I didn’t mean to…” Well, he didn’t mean to do a lot of things. First and foremost, he hadn’t meant to maul her like a hungry beast.
He jumped up. “I shouldn’t have done this. It’s my fault entirely. It won’t happen again.” He walked toward the kitchen. “If you tell me where your first aid kit is, I’ll bandage you up.”
But she was already getting up from the couch. “I can do that myself.”
Of course. Why would she risk him touching her again? She was smart.
“I’m tired. I should go to bed. I’ve got a long day tomorrow,” she said.
He didn’t turn around when she walked toward her bedroom. “I’ll be quiet when I clean up here, so you can sleep.” Not that she seemed to be listening to him now.
Shit! Way to screw up on the first day of an assignment!
11
Anger and frustration rolling off him in dark waves, Zoltan marched along one of the corridors of his underworld empire, a labyrinth of underground caves. The interconnected chambers covered several square miles. The only way to enter or exit this stronghold was via the vortexes, the swirling portals only a demon’s power could open. While in the human world portals could be projected onto practically any surface on ground level, the demon’s lair had specific access points that allowed for vortexes. All were guarded by loyal demons.
As he entered the Great Hall, red flames flickered through the cracks of the uneven stone walls, underscoring the fact that this lair was located in the belly of hell. And he was its ruler, the Great One. The king of all demons. Though today he wasn’t happy with his subjects. No, in fact, he was furious with them.
The news he’d received from up top—from his network of spies in the human world—was disturbing. And it required an immediate response, one that would teach his subjects that he wasn’t to be trifled with. After all, many of them had witnessed not too long ago how he’d killed their previous leader in this very hall and taken the reins of the underworld.
“Who’s responsible for this?”
Zoltan tossed the newspaper on the stone floor where two dozen of his demons stood in stoic silence, their shoulders hunched like the cowards they were. Nobody uttered a word. Just like he’d expected. None of them was brave enough to take credit for the incident that was plastered all over the front page.
“When I told you to show initiative, I didn’t mean this!” he growled through clenched teeth and pointed to the paper on the floor. “An attack on the life of that councilwoman? What in hell were you thinking, you stupid fucks!”
Clearly they hadn’t been thinking at all or they would have known what effect their action would have.
“Do you have any idea the damage you’ve caused?” He scoffed. “Of course you don’t, because you’re imbeciles. It’s a wonder you can guide your own dicks to piss. Your mothers should have drowned you at birth!”
One of the demons bowed, before taking a step forward and lifting his head. “Oh, Great One, I assure you we had nothing to do with it.”
“Liar!”
He charged toward the demon. Instantly the weasel shrank back, trying to hide in the ranks of his brethren, but Zoltan had had enough of the cowardly behavior his underlings exhibited and snatched the demon by the throat. Holding him up in the air and squeezing his windpipe shut, Zoltan glared at the other demons, daring them to help the coward.
“By attacking that councilwoman, all you’ve done is aid her campaign in becoming mayor. Don’t you fucking see that?” No, they were too stupid to make the connection that he could see so clearly. He had to spell it out for them. “Now she’s getting the sympathy vote from all those who were still undecided. You fucking idiots!”
The demon in his hold continued to struggle, frantically trying to pry Zoltan’s hand off his neck. To no avail. He’d always been stronger than the other demons, even before he’d taken the helm as the new Great One. He’d always felt that he was destined for more. Even from an early age, he’d realized that he was smarter than the other demons. Superior to them.
Zoltan looked at the demon as he choked him, the skin turning green from the blood that collected underneath. He felt his own heart beat an excited tattoo against his ribcage in anticipation of his subject’s death. What was one dead demon when he could cement his reign with this display of superiority? After all, they were replaceable—each of them as dumb as the next one.
“Do I have to show you myself how it’s done? How you manipulate humans to get them to do what you want? Do you need another lesson?”
He glowered at his demons. Not a single one of them dared look at him. But he’d teach these cowards yet how to rule the world. “Look at me!”
Their heads shot up and they followed his command, afraid of him, just like they should be. It was the only way to rule. By fear and intimidation. And by example.
He pulled his dagger from the sheath at his hip, a weapon forged in the Dark Days, and the only kind of weapon capable of extinguishing the life of a demon, and plunged it in his captive’s heart. The gurgling sound coming from the dying demon was accompanied by the gasps of the assembled. With satisfaction that his demonstration was yielding the desired result, Zoltan pulled the dagger from the dead body and wiped the blade on his long black coat. Then he tossed the lifeless shell of the demon into the crowd, watching how they shrank back so as not to be splattered with their comrade’s green blood. As if coming in contact with it would seal their fate, too.
“Good, then we understand each other,” Zoltan growled. “And the first man who brings me the name of the imbecile who initiated the attack on the councilwoman will be rewarded.” He narrowed his eyes at his subjects. “The second will die.”
With that threat, he turned on his booted heel and marched out of the Great Hall and toward his private quarters. When he entered, he slammed the door shut so it would echo through the entire labyrinth of tunnels that connected the various caves. Everybody needed to know that the Great One meant business.
Finally alone, he tossed his coat on a bench and exhaled. With it, a wave of pain hit him and he pressed his palms against his temples to ease the pressure in his head. He hated these attacks, always had. But he’d hidden them well for decades, knowing that showing weakness would be his downfall. He knew of no demon who’d ever experienced this kind of pain, which seemed similar to a human’s migraine. For all he knew it was common, and he had to assume that just like he hid these episodes, other demons did, too.
For several minutes, he felt paralyzed and utterly helpless, the pain so violent that he couldn’t even keep his eyes open. So far, he’d always felt the attacks’ approach, which gave him enough time to find a private place so nobody would bear witness to his weakness. He could only hope that it would remain that way.
The attacks had become more frequent ever since he’d taken over as the Great One. More painful, too, as if something inside him was revolting and pushing back against the mounting pressure his position came with. But he wouldn’t let this handicap stop him.
When the pain finally eased, Zoltan walked into the bathroom. The floor, walls, and ceiling were of volcanic stone. In one corner, a shower and a tub were molded into the rock, in the other a toilet. The sink was similarly fashioned, but one item from the human world had been added: a mirror. He looked at his reflection now. No outward signs of his debilitating condition showed. He took a deep breath. It was time to mend what his demons had screwed up.
While he had no qualms about killing humans—far from it—he knew that killing Councilwoman Wallace wasn’t a smart idea. It would raise too many suspicions and turn her into a martyr. And martyrs were harder to eradicate than humans, who were merely flesh and blood. Because you couldn’t kill a martyr; they lingered in the minds of people. It was better to discredit the lovely Tessa Wallace and thus eradicate her chance of becoming mayor, because if she turned the city away from the violence, hatred, and anger that was brewing in Baltimore, the demons would lose ground that they’d fought long and hard for. Finally it was time to claim the city and turn it into a demon stronghold so its policies could infect other cities in the state, then spread farther…
Yeah, he liked that. And if his subjects were too dense to figure out how to accomplish this, he’d have to do it himself.
Satisfied with his plan, Zoltan opened a tall wooden cabinet and inspected its contents. Wigs, beards, and mustaches were on display, as well as molds to slip over his teeth to change his smile. He chose his disguise wisely like he always did when he ventured into the human world, and while he didn’t always use all tools of disguise at his disposal, one was essential:
Colored contact lenses to hide his demon eyes. Demons had tried in the past to conceal their eyes with colored lenses, but they’d met with little success. The green in their irises emitted a chemical that burned through any lens within less than an hour, making a permanent disguise impossible.
However, recently Zoltan had come across a talented optometrist who’d been experimenting with different materials for patients who had allergic reactions to regular contact lenses. He’d watched him closely and tested out the various lenses the man was developing, until he found one that lasted several hours before it dissolved and revealed his demonic eyes.
He chuckled to himself. He hadn’t shared his discovery with his underlings yet. It was good to always stay one step ahead of everybody, even his own subjects.
12
Tessa opened the door to her outer office and entered, but if she’d hoped for a sanctuary after the events of the previous night, this wasn’t it. She’d already dodged several reporters when Hamish had dropped her off at a side entrance to City Hall, after she’d spotted a news van parked out front. But apparently a few journalists had made it past security.
Two reporters she recognized jumped up from the visitor chairs and practically pounced on her.
Collette, who’d risen from behind her desk, lifted her arms in defeat. “I’m sorry, Tessa, but…”
Tessa sighed. “Not your fault, Collette.”
And not the security people’s fault either. After all, as long as prospective visitors didn’t carry weapons and could state some legitimate reason—even if it was pretense—security had to admit them to City Hall. And once inside, they could pretty much access any floor and any office. So much for her sanctuary, of which she’d been in dire need. Not only because of the attempt on her life the previous night, but also because of what had happened later in her apartment.
She’d thrown herself at Hamish like a hormonal teenage groupie! Even now, embarrassment ran through her veins and colored her cheeks. How had it even happened? One minute she’d been crying, fear and horror occupying her every thought, the next she’d been in his arms and had let herself sink into the comforting warmth they had provided. Everything had melted into the background and suddenly she’d felt only him: his masculine scent, his strong hands, his gentle words. And when she’d met his gaze, she’d been hypnotized by his eyes, and without thinking she’d moved her head closer and had kissed him.
Of course, he’d responded to her kiss. After all, he was a man, and she didn’t know many men who’d turn down a reasonably attractive woman who was coming onto them. But he’d come to his senses quickly. Who knew what else would have happened if he hadn’t stopped.
Having to see him this morning had been awkward. And the silence between them when he’d driven her to work had been so thick, she could have cut it with a knife. Was it therefore surprising that all she wanted was to hide in her office and bury herself in her work?
Clearly, it wasn’t meant to be. The two reporters bombarding her with questions were making sure of that.
“Miss Wallace, how are you feeling this morning?” Meredith from the Daily Republic asked.
“Are you planning to sue the Center for Drug Rehabilitation for reckless endangerment?” Thom, the journalist working for Online News Blast, interrupted.
“I’m feeling fine.” She smiled at Meredith, then looked at Thom. “And no, I’m not planning on suing anybody.” She took a few steps toward her office, but the two reporters weren’t done yet.
“Who was the hero who saved you from the falling duct?” Thom continued. “Were you at the event together?”
“Do you have a name for us?” Meredith added. “Nobody was able to tell us who he is.”
“I’m sorry, I really have lots of work to do,” Tessa evaded the question and tried to squeeze past the two insistent reporters.
“Just give us something,” Meredith begged. “Speculations are already running wild.”
Thom nodded in agreement, pen poised over his notepad. “It’s the only way you’ll get rid of us.”
Collette suddenly shoved herself between Tessa and the two journalists. “The way to get rid of you is to call security. So off you go.”
The path to her office clear now, Tessa headed for it and turned the knob.
“If you don’t give us his name, we’ll just put our bloodhounds on him to find out who he is,” Thom announced.
Tessa sighed and turned. She couldn’t risk anybody finding out that Hamish was her bodyguard. It was better to give them something. “His name is Hamish MacGregor. And he’s my boyfriend.”
“How long have you been dating?” Thom shot back, while Meredith asked, “Is this serious? Are you planning on getting married after the mayor’s race?”