Page 3 of Nightmares and Numerology

Vin brushed my shoulder, pretending to pick lint from my blazer. I knew he had to be pretending because Wanda wouldn’t have sold it in anything less than pristine condition. The woman was far too proud to let something like fuzzies collect on her clothing. I was pretty sure she’d blast any stray threads to smithereens upon catching them in the act, which meant he was being handsy.

I took a step back and gave him a dirty look. “That’s not very professional of you, Mr. Christiansen.”

Vin’s lazy smile probably would have reduced most women to a puddle. But I’d seen better. Angelo’s pheromones beat this guy’s hands down. Vin very intentionally took my wrist, weighing it in his hands. A shock of pure desire roiled through me for a second before dimming like a spark. It didn’t remain as a stubborn ember, the way Angelo’s power did.

“Call me Vin.”

“I’m guessing that’s not short for Vincent,” I said in an undertone, yanking my hand free as we entered the lobby. Angelo wasn’t waiting outside as I’d expected; he’d stepped out to use the restroom and hadn’t returned. I was beginning to wonder if he regretted propositioning me here.

“You wouldn’t be able to pronounce my real name,” Vin saidpleasantly, keeping pace with me easily, though I was trying to walk ahead. I had to slow a little when he beckoned me toward a small conference room off the main hall. “It’s in my native tongue. ‘Angelo’ isn’t his true demon name either; it just translates better to English.”

I prepared a cup of coffee to occupy my hands. Something was off about Vin’s tone, and he didn’t seem as upset by today’s turn of events as he should have been. I was grateful for the cheap coffee and creamer as I sat down. Clutching the cup kept him from noticing the tremor in my hands.

I was overreacting; I was sure. Vin was Angelo’s family. But there was something about his energy: anger, lust, the anticipation of violence. It reminded me of bars where a drunk, sexually frustrated man followed a woman around who’d rejected him. But that didn’t make sense here. Vin didn’t look hammered, and I hadn’t really rejected him; he’d have to ask in order to get a no.

My head screamed at me to run, the pitch rising higher when the door clicked shut behind us, leaving me alone with my legal counsel in an out-of-the-way room. I couldn’t help but meet Vin’s eyes as the lock slid home. They were a drowning dark, and his voice emerged laced with demonic power when he turned fully toward me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Getting some answers,” he responded.

And then he was on me.

***

He trapped me against the wall, one hand manacling my wrists, the other crashing down onto my mouth before I could draw breath to scream. My spine let out a silent moan of protest when he leaned into me, crushing me against the wall. He wasn’t even trying to hide his strength now, making it clear with theforce around my wrists and the weight against my chest that he could crush me if he wanted to.

My heart raced as his scent and power engulfed me. It felt and smelled like acrid smoke, nothing like the gentle waft of desire that Angelo would send my way during the night. I wasn’t even sure Angelo was aware he was doing it; it wasn’t like he could control his dreams. Living close to an incubus had led to a dizzying array of erotic dreams, all centered around Angelo. I could admit, if only to myself, that I was very taken with the disturbingly charming demon.

His cousin, not so much.

I threw my weight against him in a futile attempt to escape. It forced him to hold me with bone-bruising strength to keep me still. I’d gained more than just Indigo when she’d exploded into fleshy streamers in my former bookshop. She also came with a neat array of other monstrous magical abilities that she’d stolen from slain creatures. I never thought I’d find myself in a situation where I’d have to tap into that greasy, unpleasant well of magic at my center. But if I didn’t, there was no telling what Vin could do to me.

Angelo, where are you?I thought desperately.

I assumed he’d slipped away to the bathroom toward the end of the trial. Demon or not, some calls of nature couldn’t be refused. But if he’d been in the bathroom, shouldn’t he have returned by now? Angelo wouldn’t have let his cousin do this to me, and not just because he wanted to be the one pinning me. His feelings for me went deeper than possessiveness, though that was definitely there. He was a good person underneath it all. He’d gone to hell and back for me. I knew he wouldn’t abandon me now. So where was he?

“Stop moving, damn it!” Vin snarled into my face.

I half-wished he smelled worse. I hated that his power felt perfect against my skin, as if he had every right to touch me. Itwas so thick and cloying that I could barely draw a breath. It felt like drowning in a vat of perfume, the magic so saturated that it burned my nose and throat.

I gave him a succinct answer when I tried to knee him in the balls. But he caught my leg and swept it aside, pressing in closer. The only reason I didn’t scream was that he didn’t seem to be enjoying himself. What he was doing was usually a prelude to violence, and I prayed it would just be his fists he intended to use.

“Stop it,now.”

There was enough hellish magic in that one word to freeze me solid for a second. Something in me resonated with the call of the infernal power all around me. Recently unleashed, Indigo’s demonic power rose to the challenge, and I snarled right back, the sound raw and inhuman. It hurt my throat to do it, but the sound rocked Vin’s head back like he’d been slapped. He didn’t let me go, but his grip loosened just enough, letting my blood circulate in painful little spurts. I’d been afraid he would crush the bones in my wrists.

“Koloth,” Vin said, his voice calmer now. “You’re part Koloth. That explains things.”

Koloth demon.

I vaguely remembered Indigo mentioning as much when she’d listed her purloined powers. Koloths could control fire. Maybe that meant I could melt Vin’s smug face off if I got angry enough. I then had the unpleasant image of flesh running in thick lines down his face and pooling on the floor like wax.

This was why I hated having a mental roomie. When your bunkmate is a spotter for an illegal magic-harvesting ring, you experience all kinds of fun visuals. I’d seen horrors from her past that made me want to run gibbering to the nearest asylum.

Even so, I found myself wishing Indigo was here with me at the moment, not snoozing away for another day or two. Itwas annoying to have a witch riding shotgun in your brain, making an obnoxious commentary about your every thought and impulse—until said witch pulls out a bit of enchantment that can save your ass.

Regardless, she wasn’t here, which meant I had to do this the old-fashioned way.

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