Every demon had a mirror to their power, maybe several, but that person was hard to find, apparently. Most never did. Soul-mirrors possessed the exact same magical type and power level. Magic would originate from one party, hit the other, and then bounce back. Then back to the other. Back again. It would grow with each pass, making both parties stronger. If they had a bond.
To establish a bond, they had to give themselves to each other freely. The bond was deep, intimate, sexual, and it was forever.
Without that bond, the power might bounce back once, maybe twice, but then it would fizzle. Without the bond, neither party grew stronger.
Emeric wanted me to accept our bond so we ascended beyond the level of prince and princess.
There were only a couple of others on the king and queen power scale elsewhere in the world, and none in the United States. He’d greatly increase his reach and the size of his organization. He just needed me to get on board.
Given that he’d done everything he could to cockblock me from leaving this town for the past five years, including denying me credit, blocking my attempts to get better jobs, or transfer to out-of-state colleges, he could go to hell. Realistically or fictionally. Not to mention he dealt in dirty deeds and shady shit. If there was a poster child for the morally defunct, it was him.
“Hey!” A man sauntered over doing the White Man’s Overbite, a sort of off-beat shimmy with his arms tucked to his chest, his shoulders bouncing and his feet kind of shuffling. “Wanna dance?”
A large male demon stepped out of the crowd. He had dark skin, a red devil mask, and his real horns and tail were on display. Demons didn’t have to hide on Halloween. It’s why they went all out with their parties for it.
The male demon reached a thick arm out and grabbed the guy by his sweat-drenched T-shirt. He yanked him back and then away, tossing him into a cluster of standing tables and making him roll across the floor in a series of flopping limbs.
I rolled my eyes. “Subtle,” I told the demon, passing him.
He didn’t comment. He didn’t have to. Emeric didn’t share. Not within his territory, at least. He’d thankfully let me loose these last five years, dating as I wished.
Not that it mattered. The soul-mirror had a horrible side-effect. No one else would ever feel as good as Emeric. All who’d come before him had paled in comparison. Those who’d come after hadn’t held a candle to his raging inferno.
I’d gotten some serious shitty luck in my life. I really had.
I stopped at one of the small bars, crowded with all manner of decked-out Halloween-goers. The prevailing theme in the costumes was skin. I probably had the most modest costume, and my little slip of a dress didn’t leave much to the imagination.
Two bartenders sped along behind the bar, just a little faster than a human could comfortably move. They flipped bottles and shook canisters, cracking the mixers open like eggs and spilling the pink or green or red contents into plastic cups. No glass tonight. It was much too crowded.
“Ms. Von Brandt.” A female demon stepped up beside me, green latex covering her from neck to ankles. She was striking, with red hair and a splash of freckles across her cheeks.
“What are you supposed to be?” I asked her as the bartender did a double-take our way.
Red hissed, revealing blackened teeth. “Scary. Is it working?”
“Aside from the dental issues, it probably needs work.”
“Too bad.” She shrugged as the bartender hurried over to us, leaving three people waiting. He had no shirt and a slick, muscular chest. Ms. Latex leaned over the counter to be heard. “She’s VIP. Drinks on the house. She never waits.”
The bartender gave her a professional nod and slid his brown-eyed gaze with a telltale red ring around his pupils to me. “What can I getcha?”
"G&T, top-shelf. Thanks."
He nodded and bustled away.
The female demon winked at me. “If you need anything—anything at all—just click your heels three times and say Beetlejuice. I’ll appear like a genie.”
“There is so much wrong with that string of references, I don’t quite know what to say…”
She laughed and turned, fading into the passing crowd before utterly disappearing. I didn’t know what kind of demon she was, but wow. That was a handy trick.
“Here ya go.” The bartender handed over the drink, knocked on the counter, and sped away. I didn’t bother leaving a couple bucks for a tip. The VIPs tipped at the end, and my contribution would be covered by the house. I’d been down this road.
Sipping my drink, I wound through the crowd. If anyone stopped to chat me up, they grew wings and flew across the room. The splat on the other side was never pretty.
My magic didn’t pulse again, meaning Emeric had moved away. Maybe he liked that I was looking for him, or maybe he was making it clear that in this establishment, there was only him. No one else would get my time. I would be entirely taken care of, in zero danger…and reserved for him.
Anger simmered down deep, as did a thirst I could barely understand. Fuck, why did his possessiveness turn me on?
Despite my frustration, my core started to throb and my blood heated with the need to see him. To feel him.
Anger. Anger would have to cut through this desperate need.
At the stairs, I wound through the crowd to get to the second floor. Halfway up, a hot guy popped a pill, smiled with hooded eyes, and then reached out to me with another pinched between his fingers.
“Oh yummy!” The redhead dressed in green latex appeared out of nowhere, grabbed the pill, and swallowed it down. “Ecstasy. My favorite!” She winked at me again before wandering down the stairs and disappearing into the throng.
She was my babysitter, then. I’d had one of those the last time I was here, as well. This one was a lot less intrusive, though. Emeric had probably realized I didn’t really need one.
I continued up the stairs, reaching the top and feeling my magic pulse. A thrum of heat wormed through my blood and unfurled in my middle, sending shoots of pleasure through me. He was close.
I pushed through a crowd of people at the top of the stairs, looking over shoulders and between faces. My gaze zipped around, trying to find him. Desperate to lay eyes on him and dreading it at the same time. Aching to feel his tongue between my thighs and resolute that I would not.
I caught a flash of black eyes rimmed in gold between two cheerleaders with blood splatter across their chests, one with a nipple peeking out of her haphazard top. She didn’t seem to notice. I did a double-take, a shock of adrenaline coursing through me, but when the cheerleaders shifted, he was gone, replaced by a laughing cat with crooked whiskers and smudged lipstick.
A mouthwatering cologne drifted past my nose. I breathed it in while my eyes drifted shut, so fucking delicious. God, I loved that scent. Mint, blood orange, supple leather, and man. A certain man, with rock-hard abs, perfectly sculpted pecs, and soft, soft lips.
My core clenched as I turned, looking through the crowd. Pushing people out of the way. Trying to follow that scent.
Around the stairs, the crowd thinned. A large balcony to the right supported a throng of dancers, many peering over the edge to look at the main dance floors below. Cages lining sides held slinky women painted in elaborate designs. Mostly bare men swung around poles in the center of the room. Tables stood in various clusters with dancers clustered all around them, the beat throbbing through the air and pounding within me.