Demons Like It Hot (11 page)

“It’s all her. She wants me. How does that make you feel?”

“I feel nothing.”

Serah’s heart fell at those words. What the hell?

“I know you too well, Ambrose. I remember that look well. Try all you want to hide it.”

“This woman means nothing to me.”

“Really now. I beg to differ. I should have known you’d fall for the Pure-Blood charms. You were always too noble.”

Fall for her charms? What the hell was this guy spewing? Unknown frustrations rammed their way through her body. Whatever trick this guy was playing was working.

Bal, or whatever his name was, swirled his rank tongue along hers. Sour milk and spice rolled across her tongue. She bit back the urge to retch—quite a feat.

It amazed her how she managed to control her disgust and anger. She angled a gaze toward Matthias. His gaze burned and lips curled into a snarl. He raised his arm, silver glinting. He wasn’t doing nearly as well. So much for Mr. Cool-and-collected. What was up with that?

Bal pushed his tongue inside her mouth. She now had her chance. With as much strength as she could, she bit down hard. Slamming her stiletto heel down hard into his foot, she wrenched herself free from his grasp.

“Bloody bitch!” He lunged forward.

Swiping the metallic tang of his saliva from her chin, she gasped. The blood stung her mouth. She coughed and sputtered, her mind reeling.

“Serah, move!” Matthias’s shout echoed through the alley.

Heart pounding against her rib cage, she sidestepped Balthazar. Rummaging through her purse, she dug around for anything she could use as weapon. Palming the silver letter opener Lucy had insisted she carry, she slammed it into Balthazar’s shoulder.

A loud, agonizing roar ripped from his mouth. Thick, dark blood pooled from the wound. He snorted in anger, his snarl morphing into something dark and hideous. Fangs glinted in the moonlight as he hissed viciously. The sound grated in her ear.

A hand, strong and demanding, crushed around her shoulder. Sizzles of electricity raced through her. Matthias yanked her out of Balthazar’s way. Eyes blazing, his jaw ticked.

“I said move.”

With that he hauled her down the darkened alley.

Turning the corner, Serah looked over her shoulder. With an eerie chuckle, Balthazar swirled away in a mist of ice and snow.

Another cold blast slammed into her chest.

“Matthias, do you forget who I am?” Balthazar smirked, brushing off the shards of ice from his tailored jacket. “We can do this all night.”

Matthias pulled her away and bolted toward the parking lot. Balthazar just laughed some more, poofing away again. Absolutely ridiculous.

“Over here!” a strong feminine voice called. Serah angled a glance. The door stood wide and inviting, a hand beckoning them toward. Serah peered up at the signage and cringed.

Wisdom
of
the
Goddess.
What? That store had been closed for almost a year. When did it reopen?

Matthias snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her toward the open door.

Then
again, resolutions were meant to be broken, right?

This wasn’t going to be easy. Any time she walked into this shop some weird piece of jewelry, a statue, or some other strange item always called to her. She didn’t like breaking resolutions, even if they were silly. She pushed and pulled against his hard, unyielding body.

“I can’t go in there!”

Matthias turned her to face him, his onyx eyes smoking. “We have no choice.”

She gulped. “What about one of the other stores? There’s a bakery three doors down. I know the owner.”

Matthias shook his head and pulled her across the street. “Balthazar will get us before we make it.” He scanned the perimeter. “And the shop is heavily warded. It’s the safest place.”

“But—”

“No buts. You are safer in the spiritual shop.”

Props to Matthias for calling it what it really was. New Age? Unless you consider the time before Christ new. But from everything she’d learned about demons and angels in the past year or so, she knew that all religions had a common bond.
Funny, that
.

“I can’t go into a shop like that without buying something.”

“So?”

“It’s like an addiction. All these strange magical items. Worse than clothes shopping.”

“Pardon?”

“How do you think I came across a damned chest? It just landed in my lap?”

“Deleon told me the story.” With that, he hauled her across the walkway, toward the shop.

Of course Rafe would fill him in on all the sordid details. “Do you think anyone in their normal mind would buy something as creepy as that?”

“In my centuries as a demon, nothing surprises me.”

“I’m afraid I might accidentally buy the Necronomicon next.”

“It’s time to face your inner—uhh—demons.” He left no chance of refusal and shoved her inside the shop. “And, FYI—the Necronomicon isn’t real.”

“But other books are bad, if not worse. Right?”

“Bloody hell.” He scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. “It’s just a store, damn it.”

Serah pummeled his back and shoulders, watching the ground fly by. “You are the most infuriating and demanding ass I have had the misfortune of meeting.” Matthias’s body tensed, and he exhaled deeply. The buildings continued to rattle around them. “Save for him.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m not the worst,” he said, slamming the door shut with his foot. He helped her to her feet and backed away.

The aromas of sandalwood and patchouli wafted through the air, erasing any remaining trace of demon body odor. It soothed and calmed her fraying nerves. Slumping against the door, she sighed.

It always amazed her how the simplest of scents could calm her, even in the most stressful situations. She angled a glance out the window.

Balthazar paced back and forth outside, pounding the windows and growling. His face contorted in a primal scowl. This was definitely one of those stressful times.

“Whew. That was a close call.” The rich, thick, feminine voice echoed through the shop. Firm, yet ethereal. Definitely not a demon, but was she human?

The zing of metal scraping metal echoed through the room. Matthias’s gaze remained alert as he readied his dagger. “What the hell are you?”

“Not a demon, so put that silly dagger away.”

Matthias kept his dagger poised. He stood stony and alert. “Show yourself first.”

“Very well.” With a snap of her fingers, the shop filled with light. She leaned against one of the counters, spinning one of the jewelry displays. Despite the aura of secrecy that radiated from her, her smile remained friendly. Peace and tranquility wafted toward them with her every move. Her dark hair was wound in a severe bun, and she pushed a pair of reading glasses back up the bridge of her nose—not what one would expect of the proprietress of a pagan store.

She smoothed the wrinkles of her knee-length, gray pinstripe skirt. “Are you both done gawking?”

Matthias’s gaze narrowed, yet he sheathed the dagger. To Serah’s utter disappointment, he wrapped his arm around her and drew her closer. He took this protection thing way too seriously.

Then there was that naughty side, the side that enjoyed his corded muscles rippling against her body. And it seemed that part of her began calling the shots. How could she concentrate?

“Well, what are you then?” Serah managed in a short breath.

“Demons aren’t the only things with powers that rove the world, you know.” She threw Matthias a knowing glance and snickered. “Seriously, you’re going to suffocate her, Matthias. Believe what you want, but I am here to help.”

Matthias grumbled and loosened his protective hold. Serah’s naughty side pouted. Her sensible side blew out a huge gust of relief. “What are you?”

Serah glanced around the shop. She sighed in contentment. The store had everything of the unusual variety. Incense sticks, cones, and scented oils. Potions and spell books and grimoires filled its spacious walls and shelves. Statues, medallions, and stones of every kind were intricately placed on several tables. She ran her fingers across a bowl of rose quartz, peace surrounding her.

“When’d you reopen? I thought this store was closed for good.”

“The man that ran the store before wasn’t selling authentic merchandise.” The woman clucked her tongue. “I hate when people try to capitalize on religion.”

She motioned them toward a seating area in the back. “Now, only those who are at peace with their spiritual side are allowed in. You’re getting there, slowly but surely.”

“So that’s why Balthazar couldn’t enter?”

“Exactly.”

Matthias shrugged. “How did I get in?”

“You’re the Pure-Blood’s protector.”

“And what exactly are you?”

“Someone who wants to help. Does it matter?”

“In my line of work, I’ve learned to trust very few people.”

“And that will be your downfall.”

“So I guess you are some sort of sorceress?” Serah turned to Matthias. “Do they exist?”

“Only in fairy tales and fantasy.”

“For deities sake, Matthias. I thought you would recognize me.”

With that she spun around, her pinstripe skirt and cardigan sweater swirling into a long, flowing, gauzy fabric, her dark brown bun loosening and cascading down her back in rivulets of blonde. A gold circlet was wrapped around her head, and beautiful beads and pearls framed her face. Eyes, the most vibrant shade of green, sparkled mischievously. This woman, whatever she was, was hotter than hell, yet no steamy sensuality radiated from her.

Serah narrowed her gaze. She could only wish to look so beautiful. “Yet you say you aren’t a sorceress. You really had me fooled there—for a second.”

Matthias’s jaw ticked. “She’s no sorceress.”

“Yeah, right.”

“She’s a goddess.”

Then again, she should have figured.

“Goddess?” Serah arched a brow.
What
the
hell
else
was
this
town
hiding? The Ark of the Covenant?
Then again, with her experience in antique chests, that wouldn’t be a big surprise.

Matthias clenched his fists and his jaw ticked—judging by the scathing gaze he aimed at the goddess, he knew her well.

“But I thought they all were converted to demonism.”

Matthias groaned. “Not all.”

“If all of us were converted, there wouldn’t be anyone to pray to.” She chuckled. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Matthias scrubbed his fingers across his chin and paced in front of the expansive sofa. “Serah SanGermano, meet Minerva. The—”

“Wisdom?”

“Well, you know who I am, so that’s a start.” She smiled and removed the winged headdress, setting it on the gold-trimmed end table. “And wisdom is subjective.”

“I don’t always feel so wise all the time. Is there a crime in that?”

“Wise people learn from their mistakes. Have you?”

“I’ve learned to not spend time in metaphysical, antique, and secondhand shops.” She got up from the seat.

Matthias grabbed her wrist, the contact sending electrical impulses shooting through her body. “Minerva never shows herself unless there’s a reason.” He turned to face Minerva, his voice stony. “What exactly are your reasons?”

“Your debt has long been paid, Matthias.” She traced a finger down his cheek.

Serah’s nostrils flared. She bit her lip and clenched her fists. “What sort of debt?”

Minerva’s eyes widened, and a singsong chuckle burst from her mouth. “Oh! I had something he wanted, and he had something I wanted. It was a fair trade.”

What exactly did he want? What else was this demon hiding? She didn’t like it one bit. Minerva sat there behind her nondescript facade. She liked this supposed goddess less every moment. The sooner she could get back home, the better. Matter of fact, the sooner she could get the hell away from malodorous demons and mysterious goddesses, the better too.

“It’s really not my place to discuss,” Minerva said with a flip of her golden hair. “You’re here because I have my own debts to pay.”

Matthias lunged forward and yanked Minerva to face him. “I won’t let you take her.”

Serah blinked. Was she really in that much demand? Then again, Balthazar seemed to want her. She just assumed it was him trying to get under Matthias’s skin, but something else flashed in the walking cesspool’s eyes that scared her to death.

She stifled the chuckle. Had he actually suggested Matthias was attracted to her? Yeah right! As if some muscle-bound giant was interested in her. Heck, someone that built didn’t dare eat the stuff she was fond of cooking. She was Italian, after all.
Can
you
say
carbohydrate central?