Page 3 of Michael
The first thing I see as he deigns to step out behind the old bookcase is a polished black leather shoe—the expensive kind. The leg of a neatly pressed Oxford grey trouser follows. Then his jacket’s sleeve appears. My gaze drops to the immaculate cuff of a bespoke white shirt with glimmering silver cufflinks, and an onyx ring twinkling on his little finger.
His delightful cologne immediately permeates the air. You’d think a devil would stink of sulfur and waste—but no. Turns out, demons are actually too darn sexy. Almostimpossibleto resist. Suddenly, I have to remind myself how much I hate him and why.
“You’re not welcome here,demon,” I tell him. Each word comes out drenched in frustration.
A cynical smile quirks up his lips. “The invitation thing only works on vampires,witch.” Satisfied with himself, the arrogant fiend rakes me from top to bottom with sultry hazel eyes.
“Seems you and I are locked in here for the night,” he adds, rubbing a hand along his closely shaven beard.
I’m not gonna lie to myself. My knees are wobbling right now. He’s handsome and provocative and knows just how to tempt me beyond reason.
The demon draws closer, and his mouth cracks into an irresistible grin.
“You’re the last monster I’d ever want to be locked up with,” I mutter. But my harshness only attracts him, as he now stands a breath apart from me and gently tilts closer.
My heart springs into a gallop when he purrs in my ear, “That sounded good. Say it again.”
I garner my resolve, despite the storm surging in my veins. “I can’t wait to be rid of you,” I tell him.
He faces me so fast I startle. His sharp stare meets mine for a split second, and that’s enough to make my frail control even more brittle.
I swallow hard. Somehow, I manage to look past him.
“Look at me,” he demands, the controlling beast he is. His firm fingers dive between my hair. He grabs a fistful of my golden locks and tugs gently until I do as he says. “There’s only one way for that to happen.” His voice comes lower, sensual and husky, and shoots a thrill through my core.
Every inch of me goes taut. I must hate him, I warn myself, and soon, sheer fury boils in my blood. Anger washes through me in a violent wave that rises in my throat until it comes out, rolling off my tongue when I roar, “You tricked me!”
His hold loosens, and tilting his head, the monster eyes me lazily. “That’s what demons do, babe.” He licks his lower lip, relishing in his power over me. “You should have read the fine print.”
“Just leave me alone, Richard,” I say through clenched teeth, then jerk away, finally escaping his grip. With a frown, I turn to add, “Richard Emmert—what kind of demon name is that, anyway?”
The devil leans against the door, arms folded over his chest, and looks at me with undeniable amusement. “Do you honestly think I’d be stupid enough to give a witch my True Name?” He shakes his head.
It was worth a shot. Knowing a demon’s True Name means you can actuallycontrolit.
My eyes roll back. “What do you want, Richard?” I ask, annoyed.
The demon dips his hand into his pants pocket. A mysterious item comes out trapped in his hold. “I’ve come… to help you,” he says under his breath—not particularly happy.
“Here.” He tosses me the object, and when it comes free from his hand, it glints against the shop’s warm led lights, soaring across the shop until I catch it.
A question titillates in my mind. “Why wouldyouhelp me?” My eyes narrow in disbelief.
He shrugs. “I… uh… lost a bet to an angel,” he replies begrudgingly. “Anyway. There it is.”
Angels and demons wagering bets over human fates is exactly the type of dealing I’d imagine taking place in the Underworld.
I open my hand and discover a useless trinket. “A necklace,” I utter in the dullest tone I can manage. I hold it up against the light, examining the piece in detail. “This quartz is worn.” I set the jaded stone back in my palm. “It’s useless. I’ll throw it away.”
“Don’t,” the demon says with sudden apprehension.
“Why the hell not?” I snap.
“Because…” He snatches the necklace in a flash and brings it close to his lips. Parting them, he exhales onto the gem, which at once gleams and keeps glowing brighter and brighter, like it’s Mardi Gras in New Orleans.
The demon’s fierce eyes set on mine. “If you should ever come across True Love, the stone will light up.” He speaks these words reluctantly.
I gasp, annoyed. “You’re fucking around, Richard,” I tell him. “I don’t believe it for a second.”
