Devilishly Sexy (22 page)

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Authors: Kathy Love

BOOK: Devilishly Sexy
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But something niggled him. He felt that he knew something else about the man. But what? What could he possibly know about a lowly mailroom clerk? What would he
want
to know? Something in his gut told Tristan they needed to find out more.
“I think we should report back to Finola about this ‘boyfriend’ of Liza’s.”
“Why?” Dippy spun around to narrow his dark beady eyes at Tristan from across the office. “Finola isn’t going to give a shit about this guy, as long as Liza is doing her work. Which she is. Better than ever, I might add.”
Dippy suddenly plopped down on Tristan’s Persian carpet, and began digging at his ear with his hind leg. “Damned dry air.”
“Or maybe you have fleas,” Tristan suggested wryly, leaning back in his office chair.
Dippy stopped and glared at Tristan again.
Tristan sighed, realizing dissension between them wasn’t going to fix their dilemma. Nor was delaying coming up with a new plan—or rather a new victim. But still his gut ...
“Maybe we should try to frame her boyfriend somehow,” Tristan said before he even realized the words were going to come out of his mouth, but now that they had, the idea did seem like a good one. At least it was a new plan, which might stop Dippy from whining—literally.
But before Dippy could respond, both of them started as the door to Tristan’s office opened, and an obviously irritated Finola strode into the room. Normally it wasn’t easy to sneak up on a demon, much less two demons in a glass room, which showed they had to be more careful and more aware of what was happening around them.
“There is my precious little boy,” she cooed, her voice soft and silky, despite the fact that her stance still showed she was annoyed. She crossed the room and scooped up her dog, tucking him possessively under her arm.
“I am starting to wonder why my pet is always with you, Tristan. Are you trying to steal away my sweet baby?” Again, her tone sounded light, almost teasing, but her eyes were as hard as arctic ice.
“Hardly,” Tristan assured her, and he didn’t even have to work to sound believable. He was starting to think he wanted to plan this rebellion on his own. But now Dippy was in, and there was no getting rid of him. Not to mention the little mutt had a direct in with the big man downstairs.
“Then why is he always with you these days?” Finola sounded almost petulant.
“Good taste.”
Dippy growled.
Finola nuzzled her hellish pet against her cheek. “I know, my sweet baby, Tristan isn’t very funny, is he?” She gave him a hard look.
“So, I’ve decided there is no reason to keep following Liza,” Finola announced.
Tristan tried not to look disappointed. He couldn’t say he was surprised. Liza hadn’t been a problem at all since they’d decided to tail her. Her work was better than it had ever been and she hadn’t shown any more signs of acting up.
“I agree,” Tristan said.
Finola bobbed her head slightly in acknowledgment, and turned to leave his office.
“But,” he added quickly, “I’m actually a little concerned about her boyfriend. Something about the man troubles me. I have this strange feeling about him.”
Finola paused, cocking a fair eyebrow as she considered his words; then she shrugged. “Check him out then.”
Tristan nodded. This was a good thing. Tristan would either discover what bothered him about that man, or he would find some way to frame him, and get Finola to take the man’s soul unlawfully. And while that would probably make Liza McLane quite distraught, she wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. She’d still be stuck as
HOT!
’s ghost editor-in-chief. Probably not as cooperative as she was now, but he could work around that.
At least now he felt like he had a plan. Hell, even Dippy couldn’t whine about that.
Chapter Twenty-five
“Y
ou aren’t eating?”
Liza looked up from her plate across the table from Michael. He was right, she’d done nothing but poke her sashimi around the plate, leaving a raw fish trail in its wake.
“I’m sorry, I was just thinking about work.” Which wasn’t totally a lie. She wasn’t thinking about a project or deadline, but rather how long she could keep Bartoris drugged out before Finola or her lackey, Tristan, discovered what she’d been doing. Would they even care if they did find out? Neither of them had any fondness for Bartoris.
Just then her heart skipped a beat, stealing her breath. Another reason she couldn’t keep up this method of demon control much longer. She was actually getting concerned about her health. But what options did she have?
“Is there a problem?” he asked, his eyes roaming her face, his look intense. Was he really that concerned about her work, or was she growing pale again? She definitely wasn’t feeling well.
But she forced a smile. “Just the usual.” She wasn’t sure if her tone was airy, or just disoriented. Damn, she wished her heart would stop racing.
“Liza, are you feeling light-headed again?”
She shook her head, then immediately fought the urge to close her eyes. Michael’s face swam before her, but she willed her head and heart to calm down.
“I’m fine,” she said, carefully reaching for her glass of iced tea. With the same sheer determination she was using on her pulse and head, she forced her hands not to shake. She took a long sip, the cool liquid calming her a little.
Michael regarded her a moment longer, then gestured to her plate of sushi. “You really need to eat. You look washed out. I think you work too hard and don’t take care of yourself.”
She gave him another smile, although she knew it was a weak one, then attempted to hold her chopsticks in the appropriate position. Twice she fumbled, dropping her tekka maki roll back onto the plate with a splash of soy sauce. Finally she got the rice and seaweed and tuna to her mouth, forcing herself to chew.
“Well, at least I don’t have to worry about my lunch getting cold,” she said after swallowing the salty, spicy mush. Another side effect of all the allergy meds. Dry mouth.
Still, she picked up another piece and popped it into her mouth. After a couple more, she was surprised to discover she really did feel better.
As if reading her mind, Michael nodded with approval. “Your color looks better. You really do need to take better care of yourself.”
She did, but she also needed to take care of Bartoris. There was no way she could have a normal relationship with an annoying chatterbox demon stuck in her head.
She really had only one hope, and that was that Finola would recognize how much better Liza’s work was with Bartoris knocked out, and finally Finola would agree to cast the demon out of her.
It was a long shot, but the only plan she had. Otherwise, she was going to have to continue her four times a day overdose. Or break up with Michael, and breaking up wasn’t an option.
She knew it was strange, given that they’d only been involved a couple of weeks, but she couldn’t imagine life without Michael. She’d never felt this way about another man. Not about another living soul honestly. It was weird, and should have been scary, but she wasn’t scared, because it also felt perfectly right.
So she had to make her plan work. Somehow.
She finished her last piece of sushi and another large drink of iced tea, then smiled her first genuine smile since sitting down in their private little booth.
“I do feel a lot better.”
Michael studied her a moment longer, then nodded. “I guess we should head back to work.”
She wiped her mouth with the starchy white napkin, then set it on the table and rose. “Yes, I guess we should.”
They walked out together, but didn’t stand too close. Both of them agreed that it was better if no one at
HOT!
or in the mailroom knew they were a couple. Of course, Liza wasn’t certain they were really pulling the platonic thing off, even with no PDA. She suspected they had a vibe that people could sense and probably even see.
Still, precautions were good. Michael didn’t need to be mixed up in the demon drama of
HOT!
any more than necessary.
Though Liza had found the mailroom to be a rather odd place, she didn’t think the workers there were a part of the demon conspiracy. Again, who sold their soul to work in a mailroom?
Once they reached the
HOT!
building, Liza paused on the sidewalk. “So I’ll see you tonight?”
Michael smiled. “You know you will.”
They paused there, and Liza could tell he wanted to touch her or lean in for a kiss, but he remained standing tall, his hands down at his sides.
“I wish I could kiss you,” she murmured, wanting him to know she saw his need and felt the same way.
As if he couldn’t help himself, he stepped closer. Only to instantly move back again, his attention briefly on something or someone behind them.
As casually as possible, Liza glanced over her shoulder to see what had captured his attention.
Tristan McIntyre was walking toward the building. He too glanced in their direction, but barely seemed to register them aside from his usual haughty look of disdain. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Then he paused, and headed in their direction.
“Oh no,” Liza said in a low voice. Michael shifted beside her.
“Liza,” he called in his cultured, slightly accented voice that seemed as affected as his metrosexual style. “Finola is going to want to meet with you this afternoon.”
Liza had been dreading and avoiding this meeting, but it was her chance to discover if her unlikely plan would actually work.
“Sure, just let me know when.”
Tristan nodded, his gaze flicking to Michael before he spun on his Gucci loafers and headed back to work—or rather, his maniacal demonic takeover.
“I don’t think he thought anything about us talking,” she said.
Michael continued to watch the other man ... male demon ... whatever ... stroll up the steps and disappear through the revolving doors.
“I don’t like him.”
Liza noticed Michael’s fingers were flexed subconsciously at his sides.
“He’s not the most likeable guy I’ve met, but he’s better than Finola, I suppose.”
“Just barely,” Michael muttered.
Liza wasn’t sure why he had such strong feelings about Finola’s lackey, maybe because he
was
a lackey. Michael was a man who didn’t answer to anyone, and probably had a natural disrespect for other men who did.
Then he stopped staring toward the building, and offered Liza a smile that was only slightly distracted. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Liza nodded. “Yes, you will.”
 
“Man, you don’t seem terribly happy for a man newly bonded.”
Michael looked up to find Gabriel standing beside his sorting table. Michael didn’t respond, except to bundle up another stack of envelopes and stuff them with more force than necessary onto his delivery cart. He picked up more mail, then set it back down to look at Gabriel.
“How can you stand this?”
Gabriel frowned. “Stand what?”
“Just hanging around here doing nothing. It’s bullshit.”
“What is bringing this on now? You should be feeling happier and more content than ever.”
Michael stared at him, conflicted in so many ways. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be content when I don’t even understand the world I’m living in now. I no longer know what my career is, aside from sorting these.” He shoved the pile of mail across the table, and several pieces slid off the table onto the concrete floor.
“And I’m bonded, but to a—” He caught himself before he admitted who his bonded mate was and that she was under a soul contract. A demon slayer could not be bonded to a woman who had signed over her soul.
Yet, he was.
“Bonded to a what?” Gabriel’s shrewd eyes locked with Michael’s, reading him.
Shit. What could he say now?
He grasped on to the first thought that hit him. One that was honestly concerning him too.
“I think she has an addiction of some kind.”
Gabriel made a face as if he’d never heard of such a thing with a bonded mate. Imagine if Michael had told him the truth.
“What kind of addiction?”
Michael hesitated, knowing the answer wouldn’t make sense. After all, who was addicted to allergy medications? But he knew she was still taking them, and he knew they were affecting her health. But why? She certainly didn’t seem suicidal. And God knows she didn’t even sniff, let alone have full-blown allergies. Of course, he suspected she was taking a lot of those little pink pills. It was a wonder she wasn’t as dried out as a mummy.
Michael opted to play stupid.
“I’m not really sure. But I have noticed her taking a lot of some kind of medication. Maybe it’s nothing.”
Gabriel looked unconvinced, but let it drop, bending down to pick up the letters that had scattered on the ground. When he rose, he returned to Michael’s original comment.
“I thought you were okay with the DIA’s new policies, even if you didn’t agree. What has you so frustrated?”
Again, Michael couldn’t state the total truth, that he was worried about Liza and her close working relationship with scumbag demons like Finola and that smarmy Tristan.
Even as they were speaking, Liza could be having her meeting with those two. And what if they’d found a reason to say she’d broken her soul contract? She could already be cast to Hell for all he knew, while he was stuck down here, utterly useless.
Despite his fears, he sensed she was still here, still in the building, still with him. But for how long? And how could he go on being a helpless bystander?
But rather than speak his thoughts, he just shook his head, not hiding his frustration, even though he had to hide his true concerns. “I just hate walking around up there, seeing demons, and letting them go on causing trouble in our world.”
Gabriel nodded, then surprised Michael to the core by admitting something he had yet to admit. “I hate it too.”
Michael suddenly felt less separated from his once closest friend. He felt like maybe losing thirty-something years hadn’t left him completely in the dust. But he still didn’t know how he was going to help Liza.
All the same, he nodded at his friend, appreciating the small gesture of support.
“I don’t know how long I can just watch them,” Michael admitted.
Gabriel nodded again, another surprise. “I know it’s hard.”
You have no idea, Gabriel. No idea. The love of my life, my soul mate, is in the middle of this war. She is potentially a casualty every moment she’s up there. And I have to protect her, even if it goes against every damned policy DIA has.
But Michael didn’t say that. He knew he couldn’t.
“Michael.”
Both of them turned their attention toward the man who’d just joined them. Elton pushed his mail cart up to Michael’s table.
“Are you ready to get this shit delivered?”
Michael smiled wryly. It seemed everyone was frustrated today.
“Yeah. Almost.”
Michael looked back at Gabriel, who gave him another sympathetic look, but didn’t say anything. Instead he held out the envelopes from the floor.
“We have to believe.”
Michael stared at Gabriel for a moment. He didn’t know if he did, but he would try. Even as frustrated as he was, Michael knew he couldn’t put down this massive demon takeover by himself. But he could take out any demon who directly threatened Liza. He nodded, then turned to his cart.
Here we go again.
He pushed his cart to join Elton. At least he could go up and check on Liza himself. He hoped her meeting with the great and evil Finola White was over, and he could see for himself she was safe, at least for now.
“Are you okay?” Elton asked as they entered the elevator.
“Yes.”
Michael could feel Elton’s eyes still on him.
“You’re worried about Liza.”
Michael’s gaze snapped back to the old man beside him before he could hide his surprised look.
“Seer,” Elton said as his usual way of explanation.
Michael nodded.
“It’s not easy to have her up there among the wolves, is it?”
Again, Michael wondered how much the man knew, or saw, or whatever. Did he know they were bonded? The Brethren could tell if they saw them together, but did a seer know too?
“Of course, she’s never free of the evil parasites.” Elton shook his head. “Poor girl.”

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