“You admit you were angry.” Margo seized on this, a mongrel with a bone in her mouth. “Angry enough to insult and talk back to your archdemoness. Angry enough—according to witnesses—to ‘exchange words’ with Anthony too.”
I could see Clyde’s chest rise and fall as he took a few deep breaths before speaking. There was a temper there behind those dark eyes—again, not surprising for a demon—but he was working hard to stay calm.
“Yes. I had a few ... confrontations with Anthony. He wasn’t exactly humble about the promotion. We got into a few arguments.”
“Because you were angry,” reiterated Margo. “Angry enough to explode. Angry enough to kill him. You probably couldn’t blow him apart fast enough, could you? Or maybe you ripped him up ... tore him limb from limb or something before incinerating him. Anything to sate the bloodlust inside of you, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Honestly? It’s been centuries since I had any bloodlust to sate. Funny thing, though . . .” He gave her a cold smile. “You’re inspiring me to maybe rip something apart after all.”
Luis sighed heavily and gestured to Margo. “Do you have anything else to add?”
The imp smiled smugly. “I think I’ve proven my point.”
Luis glanced over at us. “Does the jury have any questions for the suspect?”
We all sort of sat there a moment, squirming under the room’s attention. Then the demoness beside me raised her hand. Luis gave her permission to speak.
“So, did you call Noelle a bunch of names or something? What were they?”
“Yeah,” piped up another demon. “Did you call her a ladder-climbing, self-serving cunt? That’d be a good one.” While I admired Noelle’s professional demeanor, it was obvious that others among us did not. I had the distinct impression my fellow jurors wanted to get a rise out of her.
Clyde’s angry face registered momentary surprise. Luis snorted.
“Don’t answer that,” said Noelle, nodding to Clyde. Her face was still composed.
“Ooh,” said my neighboring juror. “Then he must have called you a cunt, if you don’t want us to know.”
“I don’t care if you know what he said,” explained Noelle in exasperation. “But I’d rather you ask questions that are actually useful. This isn’t The Jerry Springer Show.”
“I agree,” said Luis, giving my neighbor a censuring look. “Does anyone have any questions that will actually facilitate this matter?”
Silence. I have to admit, I felt kind of appalled. Demons were demons, evil by nature. But they also tended to be very efficient and business-like. The apathy around me was disheartening, even among our ranks. Whoever had thrown together this jury had picked low-ranking demons, ones who were completely self-absorbed and would never rise up in the ranks. They weren’t shrewd like Jerome or commanding like Luis. They were bottom-feeders who’d be doing crappy jobs in Hell for the rest of eternity. They didn’t care about this case. They were probably only here for the free food.
Tentatively, I raised my hand, needing to ask a couple of things that I honestly couldn’t believe hadn’t come up yet.
I thought I saw amusement in Luis’ eyes when he noticed me. “Go ahead, Georgina.”
The silence in the room grew even heavier. I don’t think many of them had noticed there was a succubus on the jury until now. Even the center stagers—Noelle, Margo, and Clyde—seemed surprised to see me.
I put on my customer service face, hoping I looked as calm and confident as Noelle. “Where were you when Anthony was killed?”
Clyde didn’t answer right way, and I could tell from his gaze that he was appraising me in a new way. I don’t think he’d expected any sort of reasonable questioning in this courtroom. I don’t think anyone had.
“I was at home, watching a movie.”
“Was anyone with you?”
“No.”
“No alibi,” said Margo happily.
She was right, which didn’t help his case. On the other hand, I felt pretty confident a demon like Clyde could have gotten some low-ranking vampire or imp to lie for him and play alibi.
“Any other questions?” asked Luis.
“What movie did you watch?” asked the drunk juror.
Luis glared at him, then flicked his gaze back to me. “Any other questions?”
I thought about it. “When was the last time you saw Anthony?”
“That morning. He was leaving Noelle’s office while I was coming in.”
“Did you talk?”
“No. Well, cursory greetings . . . and even that seemed to piss him off. He was angry and in a hurry. Was kind of an asshole.” I had a feeling he might have elaborated, but Clyde probably realized trash-talking the guy he was accused of killing wasn’t too smart.
I nodded and looked back at Luis. “That’s all I’ve got.”
* * *
“Why did no one ask those questions right away?” Seth asked me later, back in our room. There’d been a little more procedure, and then the court had recessed for the day. “Those are, like, the most basic courtroom questions ever. ‘Where were you when this happened?’ etc., etc.”
I shrugged. “I know. None of them care.”
“Yeah, but there’s a five-century disembowelment on the line.”
“They’re demons,” I told them. There wasn’t more I could offer by way of explanation, and Seth seemed to understand.
“So, what about the other suspects?” he asked. “When will they be examined?”
“Tomorrow and the next day. Nobody wants to work too hard at these things, so they spread it out. In fact, most of the people watching are only here for the social aspect. It’s the party of the century.”
“Literally,” muttered Seth.
I laughed and brushed my lips against his cheek. “Well, speaking of parties, there’s one right now up in the penthouse. Wine and appetizers for dinner.”
A wary look crossed his face. “And you want to go.”
“It’s a party. And not everybody here sucks. Luis is cool.”
Seth was silent a moment, and I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “Luis was . . . nice.”
“So, you want to come with me?” I asked. “It’ll be fun. I saw you packed your Moon Patrol shirt, so you can even dress up.”
He gave me a wry look at the shirt joke. “You know how I feel about parties and groups of immortals. This would be like . . .”
“A five-century flaying?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“Coward.”
He caught me in his arms, pulling me to his chest. “Around this sort of thing? Yes. I make no pretense to bravery.”
“What are you going to do instead?” Like I didn’t know the answer.
“Are you kidding? There are five coffee shops around the corner with free wi-fi. I’ll have a new novel done by the time you get back from the party.”
I didn’t doubt it. And honestly, I couldn’t believe Seth had gone this whole day without getting any sort of writing done. It was truly a sign of his love for me.
But then, a wistful look appeared in his eyes, one that indicated that maybe writing wasn’t the only thing on his mind. “But I’d much rather spend time with you,” he said.
A pang of guilt thudded in my chest, and suddenly, I felt bad. This was supposed to be our getaway, and here I was, blowing him off for a party. But I did want to get a feel for this case and knew there’d be other opportunities for us to hang out.
So, I let him go on his way, with promises to get in touch later tonight. As for me, I set about figuring out what to wear to this shindig. I might not respect most of the demons here, but I wanted to be respected. I wanted to look like I could actually add some value to that jury. And, yeah, I just also wanted people to think I was hot. Demons are selfish. Succubi are vain.
I’d packed lightly on this trip so I wouldn’t have to check luggage, figuring I could just shape-shift on whatever I needed. Standing in front of the mirror, I con
ducted my own fashion show, trying on and dismissing a dozen different combinations. As much as I would have liked for Seth to go to the party with me, I was kind of glad he wasn’t here to see me trying on more outfits than a teenage girl.
Finally, I decided on a white charmeuse trapeze dress, the kind of dress that looks like a bag on anyone except a model. I had a model’s body but still cinched the dress with a wide, black leather belt that better defined my waist. Part of my light brown hair I pulled up into a high bun, the rest I let hang down my back. I was admiring the effect of black stilettos when I decided the white was too stark. I shifted the dress red, decided that was overkill, then settled on a pale gold shade that complimented the hazel-green of my eyes.
“You should have stuck with the white one,” a gravelly voice suddenly said behind me. “It made you look angelic.”
Chapter Four
I spun around, swallowing a yelp. Who the fuck was in my room? I peered into the darkness. There, practically blending into the corner shadows, stood Clyde.
“Holy shit,” I said, as the demon stepped forward.
He smiled. “Sorry to startle you.”
“It . . . it’s okay.” I forced a smile of my own, trying to play cute succubus and not act like I was freaked out that a demon—possibly a demon murderer—had materialized in my room.
Then, it hit me.
“How can you be here?” I exclaimed. “Aren’t you under arrest?” I took a step backward. “Oh, Jesus. You didn’t break out, did you?”
Still smiling, he shook his head. “They don’t keep me behind bars, Georgina. They—” He paused thoughtfully. “Do you go by Georgina? Or do you prefer Gina? Or Georgie maybe?”
“Georgina,” I said. Bad enough there was already one demon in the world who called me Georgie. I’d told Jerome a hundred times not to call me that, but he never listened.
Clyde nodded, pleasant and cordial. There was no sign of the angry and frustrated demon I’d seen earlier. It was like we were already at the party, making small talk.
“Okay, Georgina. As I was saying, they don’t lock me up. I’m bound to this area, though. I’ve got about a three-mile radius around this hotel that I’m confined to. I try to leave, and believe me, they know.”
“Do they cut you off from your powers too?” I asked, by no means comfortable with this situation.
“Some, not all. If you’re worried about me blowing you up or something, don’t. Aside from the fact that I can’t, it would really hurt my case if I destroyed one of the jurors.”
Fair point.
“Okay,” I said, feeling only a little better. I still had my arms crossed in a weak attempt at protection. “Then what are you doing here?”
“Just thought it’d be nice to get to know you,” he said with a shrug. “Seeing as we’ve never met. A little chat to pass the time. I was very impressed with your performance in the courtroom today. I appreciated that you didn’t ask my underwear size or my favorite color.”
Disdain replaced the last of my fear. “You having chats with all the jurors tonight?”
I swear, that grin grew almost twice as wide and was reflected in his dark eyes. “You’re too smart to be here, Georgina. You might be the only one who actually cares about how this turns out. Well, aside from me and the other two.”
I shook my head. “If you’re here to bribe me, it won’t work.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Everyone can be bribed,” he countered. “It’s how you sold your soul in the first place. It’s just a matter of finding out what you want now. The other jurors? They have plenty of things they want, things I can deliver on once I’m free and back in power.”
“So, what? They’re all on your side?”
“Depends on what Starla and Kurt offer them. Believe me, every demon on the jury who casts a vote will do it based on a bribe. The question is, which bribe will each one take?”
“That’s . . . horrible.”
“We work for Hell, Georgina. You want fairness, go to the other side.”
“Luis is fair.” I spoke without thinking.
Clyde tilted his head, studying me from another angle. “If you’re thinking about running to him and telling on us, forget it. He knows what’s going on, knows he can’t stop it.”
I chewed on my lower lip. I had been thinking of going to Luis.
Clyde came closer. “So, what do you want? What’ll it take to get you to acquit me?”
“I told you, I don’t want anything—nothing badly enough to free you if you’re the one who did it.”
His face hardened, a serious look crossing his features. “That’s the point. I didn’t do it, but that doesn’t mean anything out there. They want someone to hang—literally and figuratively—and they’ll take whoever’s convenient.”
He sounded sincere again, but I wasn’t fooled. Demons were superb liars.
“Please go,” I said, hoping he hadn’t been lying about being unable to hurt me. That too had been convincing. “I’m not taking your bribe.”
“You’re a succubus,” he mused. “You don’t need money—that’s what Starla’ll probably offer you, by the way. But I’m guessing you’ve got plenty of your own—or can get it from some dying old man. Kurt . . . he’s smart. He might offer something good. Not sure which way he’ll go. But me . . . let’s see. Pleasure. That’s what you want.”
I choked on a laugh. “Pleasure? Baby, do you know how often I get laid?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Probably more than me. But that doesn’t mean you like it.”
It was true. I didn’t always like it. Sometimes the act did it for me; sometimes not. But there was one part I always liked.
“I get my life from it,” I said honestly. “And when that happens—that rush—that transfer. That’s pleasure. That’s amazing. Better than the sex.”
“But wouldn’t it be nice to experience sex that was better than the transfer?”
I stared incredulously. “You’re trying to bribe me with sex? You’re trying to bribe a succubus with sex?” Maybe he was the killer. He was clearly deranged enough. “That’s the most—”
Clyde reached out and touched my forehead with his fingertips. I gasped at the jolt of power that shot through me.
Suddenly, I wasn’t standing in the hotel room anymore. I was in another room, a room from antiquity, on a bed covered in plump pillows and silk sheets. The silk slid against my back, and Clyde’s body slid against the bare skin on my front.
Our limbs were entwined, his mouth on mine in a kiss that was all fire. He was fire. His skin was literally hot—so, so hot. It was a demon thing. I seriously thought it would scorch mine, but my skin stayed whole and unmarred. He moved against me, bringing his mouth down and trailing more of those burning kisses down my neck. His lips found my breasts, taking turns with each nipple. He sucked hard on them, his teeth biting in a way that danced a very thin line between pleasure and pain. For now, it just barely kept to the pleasure side.
But his mouth and the fire of his skin weren’t what drove me wild. They weren’t what made me moan and arch my body up to his, pushing as much of myself forward as I could.
It was his hands.
Because everywhere they touched, they poured life into me—that beautiful, blissful silver life energy I stole each time I slept with a human. It was the glittering energy that filled the soul, the power that usually coursed into me at the end of sex and sustained my immortality.
But now, that energy was coming from the palms of his hands as he ran them over my body. He moved slowly too, dragging out that ecstatic agony. It was almost like he was massaging oil into my skin. That life covered me, saturated me, and soaked in. It was more than I’d ever gotten from a human—even the purest, noblest soul. Ten times more. Maybe a hundred. Who could tell? My body became one enormous erogenous zone. Really, there’s no way to describe that energy to anyone who hasn’t directly experienced it. It’s, well, life. The universe. The tou
ch of God.
One of those glorious hands danced down between my thighs. His fingers slid along my flesh, slipping through my wetness. His skin still burned against mine, and coupled with that continued flow of life, I almost couldn’t handle it. I writhed under his touch, whimpering as his hands teased and taunted, promising much but not yet delivering.
I knew this wasn’t really happening, but I also knew he wouldn’t show it to me if it wasn’t a possibility. This was his bribe.
“How ...” I gasped out. “How ... can you do this? How can a demon have this much life ... ? Energy and souls ... that’s only for humans and angels to deal in.”
He removed his hand so that it and his other one rested on my hips. Shifting onto his knees, he pushed into me. The pleasure and pain line blurred for me again, and it wasn’t just because of his size and hardness—both of which were considerable. Nor was it the fierceness with which he thrust away—which was also considerable. It was that fire again, the heat that coursed through a demon’s skin. It was like a flame spreading up and into me.
It hurt, yet I exulted in it. And as that fire continued to sear me, his hands stroked my breasts and upper body with that glittering energy. It was pure delirium, cool and crisp in a way that compensated for the heat of his body. We were fire and ice.
“How can a demon have this much life?” he asked, echoing my question. He continued moving forcefully into me, each powerful stroke pushing me closer and closer to being suffocated by all that lovely life. The rapid pace appeared to take no toll on him. His dark face watched me thoughtfully, and if I squinted just right, I could barely discern horns on his head and flames in his eyes. They shimmered in and out, like a mirage. “You don’t know? Haven’t figured it out?”
Some part of my brain said if I thought hard enough, I could figure it out. But I didn’t really want to think too much just then. “No . . . no . . .”