“Most everyone that comes to House Stiltz does. We have a ninety-nine percent success rate with clients who show up at our office.”
“And what about the one percent who leaves?” I ask, kicking the covers off and standing up, sword and gun in hand. There’s a moment there where I get so dizzy, I can’t see anything but the glowing neon Dog Town sign out the window. It’s dark out which doesn’t seem right. I’ve been passed out for long enough that it should be day already. Unless…? I shift Ethel to my other hand, clutching her awkwardly along with Ricky—a total not-battle-ready move—and check my cell, also sitting on the nightstand.
Well, fuck.
I lost a whole day and most of a night. The sun’ll be coming up soon.
“We don’t talk about that one percent,” Sorrow says as I head for the bathroom and heel the door closed behind me. I even piss with my sword and gun in my lap. Better safe than sorry, right? I’m a firm believer in the whole ‘not getting caught with my pants down’ thing. “One of the Stiltz kin will wipe their minds and send them on their merry way.”
“Memory magic is a tricky thing,” I call out through the closed door. We’re both vamps, so hearing each other isn’t an issue, even with the horse race sized piss I’m taking. TMI? I thought so, but whatever. “You can’t be sure you’re erasing the memories of House Stiltz and only House Stiltz.”
I wipe—really awkward with the sword and gun, I have to say—flush, and then open the door to glare at Sorrow and those gorgeous chips of arctic ice he calls eyes.
“That’s why we don’t talk about the one percent,” he replies, and I sigh. Whatever. We both know I’m signing the contract. Last night…and his uh, demon-afflicted ass doesn’t change what I want.
Respect. An escape from poverty. A throne that I can use to make ripples of change. Fuck, maybe this whole selfish endeavor could turn altruistic by the end. I could make a court where all dhampirs are welcome, gather their numbers and create not only a better life for them, but a loyal army, too. And then maybe I’ll escape Harry’s premonition about dying on the throne?
Eh, it’s a long shot, but I’ll take it.
“So, are you a demon then?” I ask, moving back over to my cell and pulling up the Dog Town delivery app so I can get some Chinese food brought upstairs. I place my order and then hand the phone over to Sorrow. The look he gives me is priceless. Half-disgust, half respect. Probably because I’m eating food of very indistinct origin. It’s a gamble, but I’m a risk taker. What can I say?
Sorrow takes the phone from me and closes the app.
“Really?” I ask with an eye roll as he holds it out of my reach. “Very mature. Let me have my greasy Chinese food. I almost died.”
“And yet you didn’t.” Sorrow taps the phone against his palm and looks up at me. “Let me choose the food, and I’ll tell you about Red XIII.”
My turn to cock a disbelieving brow.
“Red XIII? The creature from the Final Fantasy VII game?” I ask in disbelief. Hadn’t I just compared this dude to that game? And now here he was using a reference of his own? “Well, he’s substantially more cat than your demon. Yours looked like a cross between a wolf and a hyena.” I snap my fingers as Sorrow raises his brows and smirks. “Like a maned wolf? Have you ever seen one of those? They’re weird as fuck, and you were twice as strange.”
“Gee, thanks?” he growls out in a low, playful tone that sets all my nerves on fire. My body is aching fiercely, and not because I was almost bitten in half. No, those wounds are gone and I’m all fired up from vamp blood. My moment of dizziness has passed, and I feel like a billion bucks. “But to answer your earlier question, no, I do not have a demon inked into my skin. I am that demon.”
“You’re Red XIII?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. Sorrow ignores me for a moment, tapping his fingers on my phone and ordering our food.
“Address?” he asks, and I give it to him. “Quick: likes and dislikes?’
“Uh, I like dicks that are long and wide, chocolate ice cream, ladybugs, and things in leopard print even though I know they’re tacky. Dislikes? Misogynists, Donald Trump, and two-pump chumps.”
Sorrow snorts and gives me this once-over that has my nipples so hard, they actually hurt.
“I meant food wise, but that, uh, that was informative. At least you know for sure that I both meet one like and definitely do not meet one dislike.” He grins at me, clearly reliving the sex we had. Doubtfully in as much detail as I did in my dream, but enough that I can see those leather pants get extra tight over his crotch.
“As far as food, I’ll eat basically anything except dog meat.” I point at the floor and then wrinkle my nose. “Or cat, seal, baby lamb, and guinea pig. Oh, and no tofu. No green beans, slimy textures, or mushrooms.”
“Oh, is that all?” Sorrow purrs, finishing the order. He doesn’t quite ask me what I want, but I get that he’s trying to surprise me and he’s paying, so I’ll take it.
“Where are you friends anyway?” I ask, but all he does is lean back on the bed on his elbows, eyes surveying me from head to toe.
“On business. Once you sign the contract, you’ll be the only business we need for quite some time. Until then, they have other clients to attend to.” Sorrow pats the mattress with his palm and I grudgingly join him, lounging back in my silk nightie until it creeps absurdly high on my hip. His eyes watch me with such intensity that I swear, I can feel his hand cupping my ass and pulling me close.
Deep breaths, Cam, deep breaths.
“How the hell are you demon when you smell, look, and taste like a vampire?” I ask, but then I remember that fire and ash taste of his blood. Ah. The plot thickens.
“Rumpel spelled my demon side into this tattoo,” he tells me, leaning in so close that I can feel his breath on my mouth. I still have Ricky and Ethel with me, and I’m not afraid to use them, but holy fuck, this guy is tempting as hell. Maybe after we eat, we could take part in a little quickie? I mean, if it was just a short, no-strings coupling before we started talking contract details, who would have to know? “He knows how hard it is for half-breeds.” Sorrow sighs and looks me straight in the face. I’m positive he doesn’t know about my past or else I’d have been hauled before Rumpel already, but the way he’s staring makes me wonder briefly what life would’ve been like if my mom had simply turned me over.
My human side burned into my flesh via ink, trapped, hidden.
Fuck.
Maybe I should’ve asked for that from the Stiltz? But it’s too late to go back now; I can tell by the expression on Sorrow’s face.
“What you see here,” he continues, gesturing at the long, lean length of his body. It’s a serious effort to keep my eyes off of the bulge in his leather pants. “Is pure vamp all the way. Smell, touch, taste.” He points to his crotch and I roll my eyes. “At least that particular taste. Some people notice a slight smoky flavor to my blood. But otherwise, impossible to tell. I’m only a demon when I want to be. And then, I’m as pure blooded as I am now.”
“It’s like he split your DNA in half or something,” I say, finally sitting up and putting my weapons aside. Nah. I’m not going to thrust my sword into this dude’s neck. The only thrusting that’s going to be happening in here is Sorrow’s cock thrusting into me. Ahem.
“I don’t know how he did it, and I don’t really care,” he continues, leaning toward me and tucking blonde hair behind one of my ears. “The point is, Rumpel Stiltz is a powerful vampire. Undead, immortal, just rife with magic. He can grant most any wish.”
“For a price,” I sigh and nod, pulling slightly away from Sorrow so I can think more clearly. “Obviously, I’ll have to look over the details in the contract, but give me the rundown.”