Heart of the Demon

Heart of the Demon - By Cynthia Garner

Prologue

Zombies got a bad rap these days. At least that’s what the drunk one kept telling Finn Evnissyen as he sat at the bar nursing his beer.

“I mean, come on. Do I look like I’m rotting?” The guy held out one arm and turned it so Finn could see the underside. The action also sent a waft of ammonia covered up by too much cologne.

That hint of ammonia told Finn this guy had become a zombie within hours of death instead of days. Yeah, if he’d been dead longer he wouldn’t be so pretty and he’d be much more odoriferous.

The zombie flexed his arm again. “Nope,” he muttered, answering his own question. “Skin’s as clear as a baby’s bottom.”

Finn didn’t give a rat’s ass about the zombie’s skin or baby bottoms. “Uh-huh,” Finn grunted as he swiveled around on his stool to look out over the crowd. It was just after three in the afternoon on a hot, humid Sunday, and the bar already had a healthy clientele made up of various preternaturals and humans. Finn brought his glass to his lips and sipped while he checked out the other drinkers.

A couple of blue-collar type humans sat at a back booth with pretzels and beers, their eyes glued to the large TV screen hanging on one wall. It looked like a preseason game of the Arizona Cardinals playing the Pittsburgh Steelers at the home stadium. Damn. He should’ve bought tickets, since it was so close. It’d be better than sitting here watching it on TV with a zombie yammering in his ear.

There was a lone drinker at the end of the bar that caught Finn’s eye. Finn leaned around zombie guy for a better look. The loner hunched over his drink, obviously not wanting Finn to get a good look at him. Finn understood the need to be alone with a drink, but he was curious to know what kind of pret was sharing the bar with him. Doing his job as well as he did meant he’d made a few enemies. Hell, more than a few. So using extra precaution was necessary to make sure the guy trying to hide behind his drink wasn’t a demon with a grudge.

Finn took a few sniffs of air and grimaced at the sickly sweet smell emanating from the man next to him, a man who was still going on about zombies getting negative press.

“Really, man.” The zombie lifted his drink. “Just because we happen to like brains…and intestines—”

“Mack!” Finn held up his hand to signal the bartender. Enough was enough. He slammed his glass onto the bar and scowled. He’d come here for a drink or three, not to strike up conversation with some random smelly dude. Since this guy wouldn’t shut up, it was time to go. He slapped a few bills down on the bar and pushed off his stool.

“You gotta go?” The whiny zombie looked like he was about to cry. “We were only gettin’ started.”

“Yeah, well, somebody’s disturbing my quiet.” Finn shot the guy a look and headed toward the front of the bar, taking a route that brought him behind the lone drinker. He didn’t recognize the dude, and sensed no aggression coming from him. Just another guy trying to drown his sorrows.

As Finn pushed open the door, he slipped his sunglasses over his eyes. The sultry air of a late August afternoon in Scottsdale, Arizona, slapped him in the face. God, it was so hot it felt like he’d stepped into an oven.

“Highway to Hell” began playing on his phone. He dragged it out of his pocket and answered with a terse, “What’s up, Dad?”

“I need to see you. Now.” As always, Lucifer Demonicus got right to the point. “My office.”

“I’m a little busy.” He wasn’t, but dear old dad didn’t need to know that.

“My office. Ten minutes.”

Finn realized his father had disconnected the call. “Damn it.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket. He could blow off his dad, but if he did he had no doubt that the old devil would find him, or send some of his goons. “Damn it,” he muttered again, and threw a leg over the seat of his motorcycle, wincing when heat from leather warmed by the sun seeped through his jeans.

One day he’d be free from his father’s power. He was tired of Lucifer dictating his every move. As soon as he could find something to use as leverage, he’d be out from beneath the king of demons’ tyranny. Until then, though…With a scowl he started the motorcycle and pulled away from the curb. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

He headed his bike down Scottsdale Road. The fronds on the tall palm trees lining the street swayed in the breeze. The sun beat down on him and reflected off the pavement in shimmering waves. His shirt began to stick to his perspiring skin. Luckily the wind he stirred up by riding his bike cooled him off a little.

Finn made a turn onto the road that would take him to the office building where the leader of demons in this region conducted his many businesses, legitimate and otherwise. Lucifer was crafty enough not to get caught by the authorities. Finn had a lot to do with that as his father’s enforcer. When a demon stepped too far out of line—and Lucifer was actually pretty lenient—Finn was the one sent to dispense justice. Which wasn’t always quick, or painless.

Or neat for that matter.

But he got the job done because somehow in all the mess that was the preternatural community, being the son of the devil evidently meant he’d been born into indentured servitude. Not that most prets knew of his blood relationship to Lucifer. There were rumors, but very few knew anything concrete, which was the way Finn liked it. The less people knew about him the better. A man’s private life should be just that. Private.

He stopped at a traffic light and glanced at the car that pulled to a halt in the next lane. Flirty smiles on their faces, two of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen looked at him with invitation in their eyes. Despite their beauty, he didn’t get even a single twitch of interest from his body. He blew out a sigh and looked at the light. When a demon could look at two succubi and feel nothing, something was wrong. Really, really wrong.

What, exactly, he didn’t know. It could be a bad case of the blues, he supposed, though he didn’t feel particularly depressed. Maybe he was tired. He had been working a heavy schedule lately. The upcoming rift had everyone, prets and humans alike, on edge. And demons seemed to be cornering the market on orneriness.

The light switched to green and he took off, nearly burning a swath of rubber in his hurry to get away from nontemptation. When Finn reached his father’s office building he drove up onto the sidewalk and brought his bike to a stop by the front door. He heeled down the kickstand and swung his leg over the seat. As he went through the automatic doors he tipped his head at the security guys at the front desk. “Fellas,” he greeted. The air-conditioning was a welcome relief from the stifling midday heat.

“You should move that before Lucifer sees it.” The guard gestured toward the motorcycle.

Finn merely grinned. Part of him recognized he was acting like a rebellious teenager, but he didn’t care. If Lucifer had a problem with him, he could tell him to get lost. Finn would happily do so. Hell, he’d been trying to encourage his father to release him from his duties for years with no luck.

He took the elevator to the top floor, getting off at the penthouse suite. He crossed the inlaid-wood foyer, his boots thumping over the expensive flooring, and went straight into his father’s no-less-than opulent office. “The master calleth?” he asked and flung himself down in one of the leather chairs across from Lucifer’s desk.

“I did.” Lucifer looked away from the bank of security monitors on the wall and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t think that parking your motorcycle in front of the building is enough to cause me to release you from your…obligations.”

“Obligations? Is that what my job is called?” Finn crossed his legs, resting one ankle on top of the opposite knee. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “How is it that by virtue of being your son I’m automatically at your beck and call forever?” He held his father’s dark gaze. “Seriously, I’ve been doing this for over a thousand years. You have other sons you can foist this job on. Go make one of them miserable for a while.”

“Miserable. Really?” Lucifer frowned, the action barely causing wrinkles to form. That was one of the quirky things about being a preternatural. Lucifer had been on Earth for over seven thousand years, yet he looked like he was in his early forties. Certainly not old enough to have an adult son as old as Finn appeared to be. Not that Finn looked old. He wasn’t a vain guy, but he knew he looked good, roughly thirty-five years old.

“Yeah, killing demons gets old after about, oh, five hundred years, give or take.”

“Is that so?” From the tone of Lucifer’s voice, it was clear he didn’t give a damn. “Well, I have another job for you.”

Finn scowled. As usual, his father ignored Finn’s objections and plowed ahead with his own agenda. “And if I say no?”

Lucifer’s mouth twisted. “Let us tell you about it first before you turn it down, all right?” He pressed a button on his desk and Finn heard the elevator start up.

“Who’s us?” Finn twisted around as the elevator doors pinged open. He frowned at the vampire who stepped into the foyer.

“Tobias, come in,” Lucifer said, getting to his feet. The two men shook hands and the vampire took the chair next to Finn.

“What’s this all about?” Finn asked as Lucifer sat back down.

A former liaison to the Council of Preternaturals, Tobias Caine had just been appointed to the council as their newest member. The council, made up of thirteen members of the various pret clans, governed the preternatural community. Every preternatural—vampire, shapeshifter, and fey—had representation. Only demons, by choice, did not participate in council governance. They had a strong abhorrence of anyone telling them what they could and could not do, especially when nondemons were the ones setting the rules.

Tobias shifted in his seat to look at Finn. “We’re looking at statistics taken over the years to determine the breakdown of preternaturals who come through the rift opened by the Moore-Creasy-Devon comet,” Caine said. “It’s apparent that of all the pret clans, demons have the smallest representation.”

“So?” Finn frowned. “There have always been fewer of us than other prets. We can hold our own.”

“For how long?” Lucifer leaned his elbows on the desk. “Every seventy-three years, when the comet opens the rift between dimensions, there are fewer demons that come through than any other preternatural. Century after century this occurs. In a few hundred years we could very well be an endangered species.”

“Then demons should have more babies.” Finn wasn’t sure what the fuss was all about. People became preternaturals by traveling through the rift and taking over bodies of human hosts. But all of them could procreate the good, old-fashioned way as well. “That’s how I got here, after all.”

“Demon women would have to be perpetually pregnant to make any headway at all,” Caine said dryly.

“And the problem with that is…” Finn grinned at the annoyed looks on the other men’s faces. “I’m kidding.”

“Despite your ill-timed humor, this is a serious problem.” His father shot him a scowl. “The only way preternaturals keep the community somewhat at peace is because there is a balance between all groups. As soon as one group becomes more powerful than the others, there will be a fight for control.”

“I’ve never been much of a big picture kind of guy,” Finn said. “You might need to explain why you’re acting like this is my problem.”

“Because it’s my problem. Therefore, it’s yours, too.”

Finn blew out a sigh. Since this wasn’t something that involved another demon directly, Finn’s skills as an enforcer weren’t being called upon. Which meant he could refuse the assignment. “Sorry,” he said, not meaning a bit of it. He pushed to his feet. “Whatever it is you’re asking me to do, I’ll pass.” He wanted to get away from doing his father’s bidding, not do more of it.

“You can’t refuse to help, Finn.” Lucifer crossed his arms and glowered at his son.

“Are you asking me to hunt down a demon who’s been attacking humans or other prets?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then I believe I can refuse.” He cocked a brow. “And I do.”

“I realize you’ve never looked out for anyone but yourself, and you do a hell of a job at it. Can’t you look past your own needs just this once?” Caine asked.

“You’re such a sweet talker,” Finn muttered. “You’re really making me want to help.” Finn thought a moment. “I have one question: What’s in it for me?”

Caine’s scowl mirrored Lucifer’s. He muttered a curse. “Cut the crap, Finn. You’re not as much of a loner as you make out. Listen to your conscience.” He pressed his lips together. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll give you half a mill to do it.”

“To do what, exactly?” It had to be something good for Caine to toss around that kind of money.

The vampire shared a glance with Lucifer, then said, “We want you to infiltrate a rogue group that’s planning something big at the next Influx.”

The next Influx of preternaturals to come through the rift was due in four months. That didn’t give him a lot of time to go undercover.

“We figure your reputation will speak for itself,” Caine added. “It should open doors quicker than someone else could get it done.”

“The thing is…” Finn sat back down. He stretched his legs out in front of him and clasped his hands across his stomach. “I don’t need the money. I’ve got plenty.”

“Two million.” This from Lucifer.

That cut him deep. Since when had Finn ever done anything he’d been asked to because of a paycheck? He might be a lot of things, but mercenary wasn’t one of them. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “I don’t need the money,” he repeated.

“Three million.”

Finn folded his arms over his chest and thought about the offer. He’d been truthful when he said he didn’t need the money because he had more than he could spend in a couple hundred years. But there was something he’d been wanting, something that had been out of his reach for a long time. What he wanted was to be his own man for once. Do what he wanted when he wanted instead of having to ask permission from his boss, who also happened to be his father and the leader of the demon enclave in the region.

All his life Finn had felt more like one of Lucifer’s subjects and less like a son. From the day of his birth his father had designed the course of his life, and Finn in his early years had gladly followed that map. Yet century after century his efforts to garner his father’s approval had awarded him nothing. With his mother’s death Finn had lost the only person who’d ever truly loved him. His father certainly didn’t. At least he never showed it. Finn had never felt like he measured up to Lucifer’s expectations, and about five hundred years ago he’d given up trying. He did his job well because that was the kind of guy he was—you do the job you’re hired to do regardless of the pay or any issues you had with the boss. And now he didn’t care if good ol’ Dad was proud of him or not.

At least, that’s what he told himself. And perhaps if he kept telling himself that, eventually he’d believe it.

For the chance to be his own boss he just might give in. He’d been tossing around the idea of running a private security firm, one that would cater to the rich and powerful—both preternatural and human—and this might be his chance.

“There’s more to you asking for my help than my rep,” he said, looking from his dad to Caine.

Lucifer cleared his throat, drawing Finn’s gaze. “The chameleon abilities you got from your mother will prove useful.”

Finn raised his eyebrows. “You told him?” he asked, amazed that his father would tell an outsider a closely guarded secret that not even the demons knew.

“I trust him.”

“So I take it he also knows—”

“That you’re my son? Yes.” Lucifer leaned back in his chair and rocked it back and forth.

It wasn’t common knowledge that Finn was Lucifer’s child, and it was safer that way. Each of them had made enemies, and if a relationship closer than that of boss and employee were to become known, well, it wouldn’t be a good thing. For Lucifer to not only have clued in an outsider on the existence of chameleons but his and Lucifer’s kinship, he must trust the vampire implicitly.

Finn studied Caine. He didn’t know him, not really. He’d had some dealings with Caine in the past, and the vampire struck him as intense. Dedicated and single-minded in his pursuit of justice. And someone capable of taking secrets to his grave.

“As I understand it,” the vampire said, “you can take on the abilities of any preternatural. Does that mean you can enhance your hearing or sense of smell to the level of a werewolf’s if you wanted to?”

Finn nodded. “There’s a little more to it than that, though. For a short period of time I can actually become that preternatural.”

“Meaning…”

“If I mimic a werewolf, I can shift into a wolf. Or if I want to imitate a vampire…” He paused and got to his feet. “Here, let me show you.”

It had been a while since Finn had impersonated a vamp. He studied Caine, took a deep breath to get his scent, then closed his eyes to concentrate on summoning his chameleon demon abilities. There was a burst of heat deep inside him, then his body temperature plummeted. His jaw began to ache and his canine teeth lengthened into fangs. When he opened his eyes, it was to see Caine staring at him in shock.

The vampire stood and walked over to him. “What the hell?” He stopped and drew in a deep breath. “Damn. You even smell like a vampire.” He glanced at Lucifer. “I can see how this could prove useful.”

Lucifer gave a sly smile. “Indeed.”

Finn let go of the pretense and became his normal self again. He dropped back down into his chair and exhaled. Since he was only part chameleon, he was unable to hold on to a deception as easily as a full-blooded chameleon could. Even that little bit had taxed his energy. Not that he’d ever admit out loud that he was tired.

“Come on, Finn.” Caine shoved his hands in his pockets. “We need you.”

Finn thought about it a moment longer then, looking at his father, said, “I’ll tell you what. You free me from my enforcer duties, and I’ll do this.”

“Done.”

Finn’s brow furrowed. “I mean forever, not just while I’m on this particular assignment.”

“Agreed.”

Finn couldn’t hide his shock. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy. It hadn’t been when he’d asked before. He knew this was some serious shit for his father to so readily agree to his demand. “Fine.” Finn looked at Caine. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Caine nodded. “One thing first.” He leaned forward, his gray eyes darkly intent. “No one, and I mean no one outside of this room, other than my wife, knows what we’re asking you to do. Make sure you keep it that way.”





Chapter One





Three months later



Finn walked into the Devil’s Domain nightclub and paused to let his eyes adjust to the dimness. The warmth inside the club, produced by a furnace and the heat of the assembled crowd, contrasted with the coolness of the November evening.

Not that heat bothered him. He was a demon after all; he could handle a little heat. Once he accomplished his task tonight, he’d see what kind of hookup he could make and then he’d generate another type of heat altogether. If he could. He scowled a little, remembering those succubi he’d seen a few months ago. He’d had similar reactions since, but hoped that very soon his disinterest would be a fleeting thing.

First, he needed to make some progress on that little matter his father and Tobias Caine had asked him to take care of. Things had been slow moving thus far. Infiltrating the rogue group of preternaturals would be the key to his freedom.

He’d been working on it for the last few months, using his current contacts and making new ones. Going to the leader of the group head-on would be too obvious, so Finn had been coming at them sideways. He was so close, he could feel it. All he needed was one person to buy that he was a true believer and he’d be in. He planned to make some headway to that end tonight, especially since he was running out of time. The next rift was set to occur in only four weeks.

Moving a few more feet into the club, he looked out over the assembled crowd. Prets of every type as well as several humans filled the place almost to capacity. A handful of vampires congregated in the booths near the door that led to the area where they could dine in private if they wanted. Some vamps, though, were exhibitionists and got off as much on audience reaction as they did the actual ingestion of blood, which explained why a few of them were leaning over donors in booths that lined the back wall, fangs in arms or necks.

Shapeshifters—werewolves, various werecats, and even a werebear or two—gathered near the bar. A couple of succubi led entranced humans by the hand toward the restrooms where, no doubt, they’d suck off some of the men’s energy while, well, sucking them off. And they’d probably lift their victims’ wallets while they were at it, but the men wouldn’t care about that, not for a while, anyway.

The club smelled like it usually did, a combination of booze, sweat, and the underlying dark, silky feel of carnal, preternatural hunger. Between the music and voices of people trying to talk over it, the noise level was at a low roar. Finn tapped into his chameleon abilities and took on the hearing of a shapeshifter. He listened to several conversations, none of which were all that interesting. Certainly none pertained to the rogue group he was still trying to get close to. He eased up and shifted his attention to the dance floor. Several demons he knew, most of whom he had no desire to engage in conversation. One guy, an incubus, caught his attention, though. Not because of what he was doing, which was dancing badly, but because of whom he was dancing with.

Finn would recognize that long hair anywhere. It flowed down her back to the top of her shapely buttocks in a fiery cascade. Keira O’Brien.

His body tightened. On some level he recognized the reaction and registered the relief he felt in knowing he hadn’t completely lost his interest in the opposite sex. But on another level he wondered if Keira had ruined him for other women.

He reflected on their first meeting. They’d met here, at the Devil’s Domain, right at the bar. Finn had just come off a job. He’d been tired, in need of a shave, a haircut, and a small supply of give-a-damn. A husky, shamrock-jeweled voice ordering a scotch had caught his attention and set his nerve endings on fire. When he’d seen the owner of that voice, a slender, curvy woman in a barely there black dress, he’d been a goner.

The attraction had been mutual and instantaneous. She’d been as irreverent toward him then as she was now. Unafraid of his strength, she saw right through him to the man he was inside, the man he could become if he wanted it badly enough.

Keira had been new to the city, still trying to find her way. They danced for a while, shared another drink, and agreed to see each other again. Over the following months they had enjoyed a flirtation that had deepened each time they were together, finally culminating in a night filled with overheated bodies straining together against silky sheets.

The evening had started out as their dates usually did—dinner and dancing at the Devil’s Domain. That night, though, they’d both been more than ready to take things to the next level. Slow kisses and a little heavy petting in a dark booth at the club barely held their lust in check until he could get her to his bed.

Her dress had stayed on her for all of two seconds, only as long as it took him to get her from the front door to his bedroom. He’d laid her down on the crimson and plum comforter and she’d given him a slow, sultry smile that told him she knew exactly what she was doing to him, lying there in nothing but her smooth skin and a pair of red high heels.

“You’re a naughty little thing, aren’t you?” He stared down at her, his eyes burning as desire flamed white hot in his gut. He let his gaze drift over her slender body, taking in her hard-tipped breasts, narrow waist, and flaring hips. Soft auburn curls guarded a treasure trove he fully intended on plundering. “Do you often go without panties?”

“Only when I think they might slow things down,” she murmured. A slim finger traced along his lower lip. When he sucked it into his mouth, her breath caught and her eyes flared with passion. With a low moan that fired his blood, she pushed him onto his back. Holding his eyes with hers, she began to unbutton his shirt, her fingers brushing against his skin, sending shivers of reaction racing to his cock. By the time she’d pushed the material to the sides of his torso, he was grinding his jaws to keep from hauling her beneath him.

When her fingers went to the button on his pants, he knew he’d never keep control if she wrapped them around the part of him that most wanted her attention. With an oath he surged off the bed and finished undressing.

When he came back down, she curled her legs around his hips and surged against him. He’d been surprised by the strength in her body, though he knew he shouldn’t have been. When he moved one hand to stroke through the soft folds of her sex, the slick heat he’d found had made the breath catch in his throat.

“Ordinarily I’d insist on a short getting to know you period,” she husked, trailing her hands across his chest. Her brogue was more pronounced than usual, and he realized she slipped back into the familiar and perhaps comforting cadence of speech when her emotions were heightened. “But you’ve been teasin’ and tormentin’ me somethin’ fierce these last weeks, boyo.” Her thumbs raked across his nipples, making him jerk in response. That slow, sexy smile curved her lips again. “Let’s get down to business, then, shall we?”

What had followed had been the hottest sex of his life.

They’d fit together like they’d been custom made for one another. Afterward, though, things had gotten awkward between them. Instead of curling up in his arms for a postcoital snooze, Keira had muttered something about not wanting to get into a serious relationship, and he’d mumbled something along the same lines.

By unspoken agreement they’d put distance between them. The truth of the matter was, while their lovemaking had been fulfilling on a level he’d never before experienced, he wasn’t about to trade one type of servitude for another. Doing this “job” for his father was the means to an end. He wanted to be free, not tied down.

Since Keira had also denied any desire for a serious relationship, he figured she’d be a safe bet for what he needed tonight. No-strings-attached sex. Even if she was the only woman who’d enticed him in a long while, he didn’t have time for anything else, not in the short period he had to complete his mission.

He wended his way through the couples on the dance floor until he reached her. Her dark blue dress glimmered in the light. As she danced, he could see the bare skin of her back each time her hair moved. Or when the incubus slid his hand down to cup her ass.

Finn clenched his jaw. With two rigid fingers he tapped her companion’s shoulder. Hard. “I’m cutting in.” His voice came out in a low, predatory growl that irritated him. It wasn’t like he and Keira were exclusive, after all. She could dance with whoever the hell she wanted to. She could also have sex with whoever she wanted to.

That didn’t mean he had to like it.

With the mood he was in, Finn wouldn’t have minded a decent, down and dirty fight, but unfortunately her dance partner wasn’t an idiot. “Sure thing.” The incubus gave a smile to Keira, handed her over to Finn, and turned away without another word.

Finn watched him walk away and then looked down at the woman standing in front of him. Her dress was almost as low cut in the front as it was in the back, showing off the delectable slopes of her breasts and the pale, smooth skin of her upper abdomen. The fresh, sweet-grass smell of heather he always associated with her wafted to his nostrils. He drew in a breath, holding her scent in his lungs a moment before exhaling. “It’s nice to see you, Keira. You look beautiful as always.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze tracked the incubus for a moment before she looked at Finn again. Her lips curled upward, her reaction one of indulgent amusement rather than outrage at his high-handedness. “You’re looking fine yourself. How’ve you been?” she asked, her tones as lilting as if she’d just arrived off a plane from Ireland the day before. “I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“I’ve been busy. Work,” he explained. He didn’t want to talk about what he’d been doing the last few months. He couldn’t talk about it. She knew enough about him to know he was no stranger to keeping secrets. In his line of work it was necessary. Couldn’t have his target running off because they’d heard Finn the Enforcer was after them. Or have the rogue group close its doors because they found out a nonbeliever was trying to infiltrate them. “What’ve you been up to?”

Suddenly serious blue eyes stared into his. “Oh, a little of this, a little of that.”

Keira was no stranger to secrets, either. She was one of the most private people he’d ever met, and that was saying something. Every preternatural alive had learned to exist by hiding their true nature. But Keira took keeping her privacy to a whole new level.

She freed her hand from his. “I’ve been around, boyo. You’re the one who’s been scarce.” Her fingers drifted across his shoulder to stroke through the hair at the nape of his neck. Heat spread from her fingertips down his torso and wrapped around the base of his cock. When her softly rounded belly brushed against the slight rise beneath his fly, she gave a slow, wicked smile. “You’re glad to see me then.”

“Yeah, I am.”

The song ended and the DJ started another slow ballad.

Finn rested his hands on Keira’s hips. “Dance with me,” he murmured in a voice gone low and raspy with desire. When she nodded, he pulled her even closer. This was his kind of dancing. Nothing too fancy, just the shuffling of feet and the brushing of bodies against each other.

She twined her arms around his neck, fingers still sifting through his hair. The motion sent darts of sensation throughout his body. She shifted nearer, the tips of her breasts brushing his chest. Her high heels put her at cheek level with his jaw, and she rested her face against his.

Her skin was like satin against his stubble-covered jaw. He drew in a breath, enjoying the light floral scent of her hair. She was the essence of femininity—soft, seemingly delicate—yet every once in a while she’d get a look in her eye that made him think of Boadicea, the fiery Briton queen. He had no doubt Keira would be fierce in a fight.

He knew from experience she could be fierce in bed.

The feel of her in his arms made him ache to slide her beneath him on the closest horizontal surface. Or up against a wall. Finn slid his hands to the small of her back and linked his fingers, pulling her closer. He focused on the woman in his arms, the warmth of her body against his, the softness of her skin beneath his palms. He drew in a breath, trapping the fresh scent of her shampoo in his nostrils before he exhaled.

Her fingers continued combing through his hair. With each stroke his muscles tightened. Going horizontal was looking better and better. To regain some control, Finn drew back a smidgin and glanced around the club for potential contacts. He had to focus on something else or he’d end up dragging her out of the club like some Neanderthal. Any other time that wouldn’t have bothered him, but tonight he had other things he had to accomplish. He couldn’t forget his mission, though this sensual woman surely made him want to. Even as his eyes searched the crowd, his mind replayed images of Keira stretched out beneath him in bed, her slender body naked to his gaze, his touch. He drew in a shuddering breath and fought to rein in his rampaging libido.

The song ended, and Keira stepped back from him. He took one of her slender hands in his. Want to get a drink? he meant to say, but what came out was, “Come home with me.”

She tipped her head to the side, one delicate eyebrow climbing.

“For drinks,” he hurried to add. He could tell by her expression that she was thinking what he was. The temptation for more was there. And, like him, she looked like she was about to give in.

Her lips parted, her gaze bright with agreement. Then her eyes flicked to something over his shoulder and she said, “Rain check? There’s someone I need to talk to.” Genuine regret colored her sultry voice.

Finn gave a nod. “Sure, no problem.”

She stroked her hand down his cheek and let her fingertips linger on his lips. Then she went up on her toes, moving her fingers aside to press her mouth against his. He parted his lips, allowing her inside, tangling his tongue with hers. God, she tasted good. Better than good. She tasted of sweet honey but with a tartness that was unexpected yet welcome.

“I’ll see you later,” she whispered against his mouth. Another lingering kiss, then she brushed her hand across his shoulder as she walked past him.

Finn turned and watched her head toward the back of the club. Because of the crowd he couldn’t see who her target was, and soon the crush of bodies forced him to move off the dance floor.

He couldn’t take his gaze off the auburn-haired woman who was pure temptation. Still watching Keira, his mood soured. Scowling, he realized his interest in being at the club had waned, but as much as he wanted to get the hell out of there, he had work to do.



Keira glanced over her shoulder to see Finn staring at her. He’d shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the broad shoulders beneath the soft T-shirt and leather jacket slightly hunched. Blue eyes gleamed with a faint demon-yellow glow. His expression, one he seemed to wear a lot around her, contained a mixture of desire, determination, and befuddlement.

She was just as confused as he seemed to be, because he purely baffled her. And as much as she told herself she didn’t want to solve this particular puzzle she knew deep down she was lying to herself. The demon was complicated, and she loved every complicated piece of his puzzle.

Maybe once she was done with this…project, she could put more effort into the mystery that was Finn Evnissyen. All she knew about him was that he was handsome, sexy, a great lover, and as badass as they came. While she would trust him to watch her back in a dangerous situation, he wasn’t the type of guy a woman should give her heart to.

Definitely not the sort a girl brought home to meet her parents.

Luckily for Keira, her parents—both the set in the other dimension and the ones of her human host—were long dead and buried. All of them—shapeshifter, fey, or vampire—were mortal in the other dimension. They lived and died the same way humans did. It was the combination of their otherworldly essence with human souls that created their immortality here on Earth. Although she didn’t have to worry about gaining approval, that didn’t mean she was going to entertain any ideas about having some sort of long-term relationship with Finn. He was strictly a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy. She’d heard about him around town.

Yet she couldn’t deny that he was a mighty temptation, as well as enigmatic. Even with her abilities she had trouble figuring him out. She was fey, and like all of her kind she had the ability to use glamour. The older the fey, the stronger the ability. With her specifically, she was an empath. She could read the emotions of others, even influence those emotions. She could make people feel what she wanted them to, believe what she thought they should. And if she pushed hard enough, she could alter their perception of their surroundings to the point that she became invisible.

Her glamour was something she rarely used anymore. In the other dimension before she’d become Keira O’Brien she’d used all her skills as a grifter to swindle a handsome living off unsuspecting marks. Since she’d come to Earth, though, she’d tried to do better, be better. The personality of her human host had a lot to do with that. The human Keira of the O’Brien clan had been an honest, honorable woman. So, to pay homage to that, the new Keira had determined to live her life the way her human host would have.

While she could have used her gift to influence Finn, she hadn’t. And she wouldn’t. Ever. Not for something as important as love.

But to get the information needed for her task from a vampire? In her experience, any tactic employed in war was fair. She’d use her ability faster than a bartender could pour green beer on St. Paddy’s Day. She turned toward the back of the club and hurried after the vampire she’d spotted. “Javier!” she called.

With one hand on the knob of the door that separated the public area of the club from the rooms where vamps went to dine in private, a short, swarthy-skinned man stopped and looked at her. She’d met Javier Alvaro initially at a formal meet-and-greet at council headquarters that all newcomers to Scottsdale had to go through. While she wouldn’t call him a friend, they were at least on friendly terms. Of sorts.

“I need to talk to you,” she said upon reaching him.

“Keira.” He gave her a once-over, which set her teeth on edge, but she plastered a pleasant expression on her face and projected a sense of sexual interest she was far from feeling. When his dark gaze came back to her face, he said, “If you want to talk, bonita, you’ll have to donate, because I’m going in there”—he tapped two fingers against the door—“to feed.” Crimson hunger rimmed his cocoa-colored irises. “I have a powerful thirst for blood. And maybe something more.”

She wasn’t thrilled with the idea of letting this smarmy vamp fang her, and she had no intention of letting him “something more” or anything else with her either. However, she was no stranger to making hard choices to get what she needed. She’d use her glamour on him. It would take some doing to fool a vampire, but she’d been around a long time and had the strength necessary. And if it didn’t work for some reason, she’d do what she needed to do to get the information she was after.

She widened her smile and swept her arm toward the door. “After you.”

His nostrils flared as did the red in his eyes. He opened the door and murmured, “No, please. After you.”

She went through the door, aware of Finn’s burning gaze on her. He’d want to know why she’d chased Javier down and, more importantly, why she’d gone into the back rooms with him. The fact that she was going off with a vampire would automatically anger him because of the animosity between vamps and demons. But it wasn’t like she and Finn were exclusive. She never pressed him for details about his comings and goings, because she knew it’d be a waste of breath. By the same token, what she did was none of his business.

Keira pushed back the tinge of sadness that crept over her at the thought. Finn didn’t seem like the kind of demon who craved hearth and home. She sensed a restlessness about him, a desire to shake off the trappings of his current life so he could live the way he wanted to. Perhaps so he could be who he wanted to be, not who the pret world painted him as. And she had a feeling a woman didn’t fit into those plans in any permanent fashion. He was far too self-centered for that.

She walked into the small room that Javier indicated and seated herself on a little leather sofa, crossing her legs and stretching her left arm along its back. A strong scent of cinnamon colored the air, no doubt to help cover up the smell of blood. No matter how hard or how often they cleaned these rooms, blood had a way of lingering.

Javier sat beside her and leaned forward. The scent of peppermint wafted from his breath. He licked his bottom lip, no doubt thinking it made him look sexy. She forced herself to keep a sultry smile on her face as he ran his fingers lightly up and down her arm.

“So, bonita, a little bite to eat first, yes?” He curled his fingers around her wrist and lifted her arm from the back of the couch.

She trilled out a laugh, made sure she was projecting a general feeling of satisfied indulgence, and whispered, “How about you answer a question for me, and then you can have a big bite?” She leaned closer and trailed her right hand from his knee up to his inner thigh, almost but not quite hitting his sweet spot.

“Deal.” His voice came out guttural, barely sounding like that of a man. It matched the predatory gleam in eyes that had gone completely crimson.

“I don’t know if you know it or not,” she said, making sure to keep the soft Irish lilt in her voice, “but I moved here from back east to do more than get away from cold winters.”

“Oh?”

“Aye.” She stroked her fingers back down to his knee and lingered there, letting him feel the warmth of her palm through the fabric of his trousers. “We preternaturals have always had to be so careful. Before our public outing, we had to hide what we were so we didn’t provoke humans into hunting us.”

His lips twisted. “Yes, we have historical accounts to back us up on that one. The witch trials of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, and werewolf trials in the sixteen hundreds.” His lips curled back to show his fangs. “And of course they’ve been frightened of vampires from time immemorial.”

“Exactly!” Keira agreed. “And now it’s all ‘Don’t do this or you might make the humans around you aware of what you are. Don’t do that or you’ll expose us all.’” She sighed and started a halting trail back up his thigh. “You’d think that since we’ve become common knowledge things would have changed, but they’ve only gotten worse.”

“Yes, they have.” Javier rested one hand on her left shoulder. The other lay on the thigh opposite the one she currently teased. “What’s your point?”

“My point is… I’m tired of it.” She held his gaze with her own. “We’re stronger than humans. Better than humans. We should be living loud and proud, not denying who we are.” She halted high up on his thigh, still not touching where she knew he wanted her hand the most. “I’m tired of us being in the minority and not allowed a say in how this town, this country, is run.”

“I’m still not connecting the dots, bonita.” His fingers tightened on her shoulder. “And neither my time nor my patience, nor my willingness to continue to go hungry, is limitless.”

“I’ve heard you can put me in touch with like-minded folk here in town. I want to contribute to the cause.” She watched his face carefully and tried not to look like she was watching carefully. “I’d like to help.”

“I think maybe you got some bad information.” Javier moved his hand from her shoulder to curl it around the back of her neck. His skin was cool against hers, and she could feel the strength in his grasp. With a flick of his wrist he could snap her neck, and that’d be it for her. She didn’t know of any preternatural who could survive with their body being cut off from their brain.

Javier’s hand on her nape made her nervous. But she couldn’t let him see it. The last thing she should do now is show any sort of weakness to a predator like him. Without losing her smile, she said, “Well, I hope my information isn’t bad, because I’ll be very disappointed.” She let her fingers drift a little higher.

He studied her a moment. Carnal hunger sparkled in his eyes. “And if I could make sure you’re not disappointed?”

“I’d be very…grateful.” Keira pushed extra breath into her voice so it came out throaty. She also pointed feelings of good will and sincerity his way.

Those red-tinted eyes stayed fixed on her. She reached out with her empathic sense but couldn’t discern his true feelings. Damn, he was a hard one to read. Most vampires were. She could only suppose it was because they were reanimated corpses. Thankfully, they weren’t that hard to influence.

“If I hear something,” he said, “I’ll let you know.” The dip between his brows and the downturn of his mouth told her in spite of her gentle pushing he was skeptical of her sincerity. Then his lips twisted up. “Now, it’s time to pay up, bonita.” He moved his hand from the nape of her neck to her left wrist, lifted her arm off the back of the sofa and started to bring her wrist to his mouth. His lips parted, pulling back from his fangs.

Keira focused on her breathing, reached deep within her and drew even more upon her fey power. With a soft sigh she projected a feeling of contentment and growing satiation to Javier. His mouth never made contact with her skin, but his eyes drooped and his face took on the expression of a vampire who was enjoying every swallow.

After a few minutes, she slowly pulled her arm away. He smiled, a vacant one of overindulgence, and slumped back, his body limp and replete. She left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She blew out a breath and leaned against the door for a few moments.

Drawing as deeply as she did on her power always drained her. She fisted her hands to conceal her trembling. It wouldn’t do for someone to remark upon how exhausted or weak she’d seemed when she left the back room. It might be expected if she’d actually donated, but since there wasn’t a bite mark on her, it wouldn’t do at all.

Secure in the knowledge that she’d left Javier with the feeling he’d had the best meal of his life, Keira pushed away from the door and headed toward the front of the club. As she entered the main area, the heat and babble slapped her in the face. By Dagda’s beard, she was tired. The life energy flowing from the gathered crowd and the noise they made was usually something she enjoyed. But not now. It only made her want to get out of there.

She focused on putting one foot in front of the other even as a satisfied smile curled her lips. She’d done it. She’d finally been able to get someone who was willing to put her in touch with the rogue group of preternaturals.

She needed to report in, but she wanted to refuel and rest first. Which meant getting outside and at least putting her bare feet against the ground so she could take in energy from the Earth. Completely naked would be better, but she wasn’t an exhibitionist so feet or hands would have to suffice.

Keira reached the front door and paused to glance back into the club. As if drawn by a magnetic force, her gaze lit upon Finn. He was seated at a high-topped table, leaning close to a blond-haired woman. When the woman threw back her head and laughed at something he’d said, Keira saw the small lotus blossom tattoo behind her left ear. Her mouth firmed. Of course Finn would have hooked up with a succubus. He’d been cruising for a sexual partner, and who better to see to his needs than a sex demon?

He wore what she’d come to think of as his flirty look—the smile just a bit too practiced, the interested expression in his eyes a little too forced. Most women in here wouldn’t look closely enough to be able to see it, but Keira had been around a long time. She’d seen men at their primitive worst in the Celtic tribe she’d become part of during the early Bronze Age at the time of her rifting. And she’d seen them at their best when the age of chivalry had reached its height.

Regardless, it had been a long enough time for her to know the signs. Yet she couldn’t seem to help herself from being jealous. A sudden wave of light-headedness assailed her, making her sway and reminding her she needed to recharge. She turned away from the temptation that was Finn and pushed open the door.

As soon as she got outside, she headed to the easement between the sidewalk and the street. Remembering what this strip of land was called back in Northeast Ohio where she’d lived for a time, she smiled. It seemed appropriate that outside the Devil’s Domain she’d be standing on the devil strip.

Keira reached it and looked down. The security lighting from the club’s parking lot made it as light as day even out by the street. The devil strip was gravel, not soft grass like in Ohio, but at least it wasn’t concrete or asphalt like the parking lot. It also had several clumps of prickly pear cacti growing in it. Any time she could be on a patch of ground where other living things were also nourished, it provided a stronger surge of nature’s vitality.

She slipped off her shoes and scraped the gravel aside with the edge of one foot then stepped onto the cool packed dirt. Immediately renewing energy from the Earth and everything it nourished flowed into her, like warm tendrils snaking around her muscles, curling through her veins. Her fatigue lessened enough so that she felt she’d be able to make it home without passing out.

She put on her shoes and walked to her car. She’d get back to her house and lie down on the patch of grass she had in the backyard, a small circular area she maintained so she could have a place to literally commune with nature. Sheltered beneath a mesquite tree, it was a tiny oasis in the dry desert landscape. And she definitely would use it tonight. This little bit she’d done was only a Band-Aid solution for what she really needed, but she didn’t have time for more. In a little over two hours she had to meet her contact on the Council of Preternaturals and fill him in on her progress.