Infernal Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Demons of Fire and Night Book 1) (14 page)

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reternatural power flickered
in his eyes.

Adrenaline flooded Ursula’s veins.
I need a weapon. He’s going to kill me.
She still clutched her wyrm-skin purse, but Abe had run off with her blade lodged in his gut.

She scanned the room for something sharp, her eyes landing on an old cutlass that hung above a porthole. But with Kester blocking her path, she wouldn’t be able to get to it.

He inched closer. “I should never have let you go on your own.”

“Emerazel said you
had
to send me alone, and I know you can’t disobey her.” Anger tightened her chest.

His eyes flashed. “That’s one of the few sensible things you’ve ever said.”

Frantically, Ursula’s eyes darted around the room. Since the cutlass was out of reach, she needed to identify an escape route if he was going to sacrifice her. “And she said you need to send me to her if I screwed up again.”

He stepped closer, bare feet padding across the deck, until he stood so close she could feel the heat rolling off him, and smell his earthy scent. His eyes trailed over her shivering body, like he was sizing up the value of his sacrificial victim, and her muscles tightened at his gaze.

Her heart thrummed. There was no way she could take on someone with his strength, not when she’d been drained by the incubus. And yet, she had no other choice. An image flashed in her mind—swords shining in the moonlight as someone trained her.
Fight, Ursula.

Just as he took another step closer, she dropped her purse, throwing a hard punch to his jaw. He flinched, but didn’t move. With a racing pulse, she threw another, but her aim was off. He caught her fist in his hand, his grip iron-clad.

Spinning her around, he pulled her arm up behind her back, pushing her up against the wall. The splintered wood pierced her silk dress, and she fought to catch her breath.

“I told you,” he purred in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “You can’t fight me. Let me—”

Like hell I can’t.
She elbowed him hard in the stomach, and he stumbled. She tried to race for the door, but he caught her by the hair, yanking her head back. He slipped his other arm around her body, holding her tight, and growled. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t want to die. Or burn. I don’t want to suffer for something F.U. has done, and I don’t want Zee to suffer because of her either. If I could murder anyone, it would be F.U., but that would create a paradox…” She let her thought trail off. She was babbling like a nutter now.

His strong body pressed into her back. “I wasn’t going to kill you.”

With one of his hands tightly fisted into her hair, and the other grabbing her shoulder, she wasn’t going anywhere. His arm heated her skin through her dress, warming her breasts.

“Are you talking about yourself in the third person again? It’s really strange.”

Relief flooded her. “You said there was no point fighting Emerazel. Just like there’s no point in me fighting you.”

He loosened his grip on her. “I should kill you. I won’t pretend it didn’t cross my mind.”

She stepped out of his grasp, hugging herself. Away from his warm body, the air chilled her skin. “But you’re not going to?”

Golden lantern light bathed his chiseled body. “I should, but no.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, confusion and anger warring across his features. “I don’t want to kill you.”

“I thought you did whatever Emerazel told you to.”

“Mostly, yes.” He looked away, his face suddenly sad. “But I loathe her.”

Ursula shook her head. “I don’t understand. I thought you were her Headsman. Why would you do whatever she wanted if you loathe her?”

Flames glinted in his eyes. “I hate that name. And the rest of it isn’t for you to worry about now.” He clearly wasn’t ready to bare his soul.

Shivering, Ursula hugged herself, eyeing the inviting sofa that called to her aching body. “Fine. But what is the point of all of this? Why is she so obsessed with claiming souls anyway?”

“Rest for a minute,” he said, nodding at the chair. “Maybe it’s time for you to learn something about your world before we hunt down Abrax.”

She collapsed into the chair with a sigh, letting the soft cushions embrace her. Her muscles sang with relief.

Kester ran a hand through his hair. “The souls of men are what give gods their power. Emerazel’s fire is fueled by the souls of her supplicants. Nyxobas’s magic works the same way. The gods are constantly warring over this human currency, and long ago they formed factions of shadow and light to fight against each other. When Abrax drained Hugo, he stopped us from acquiring the soul. He also steals any magic that Emerazel had invested in Hugo.” He eyed her with concern. “Like how he drained your fire before Zee stopped him. Honestly, it’s a miracle he didn’t take your soul.”

“It was odd. We became repulsed by each other as soon as his lips touched mine.”

He stared at her, surprise flickering across his features. “Really?”

She nodded. “But that means he stole Zee’s soul?”

“Half of it, at least.”

“Shit.” Ursula took a deep breath, trying to push that horrific thought out of her mind. “If incubi work for Nyxobas, what god do the fae work for? Is there a god we can appeal to for help?”

“No. Unlike every other magical creature on earth, they’re unaligned. They’re descendants of angels who chose to come to earth long ago.”

“Why would they want to live on earth instead of in the heavens?” She ached with exhaustion, but this was the first time someone was actually telling her something, and she needed to get as much out of it as she could.

“The fae are simply hedonists. They enjoy earthly pleasures.”

Ursula glanced at Zee, whose arm dangled limply over the side of the table. “We can save her if we find Abe.”

“Abrax.” His eyes blazed. “And maybe we can get Hugo’s soul back from him, too, so Emerazel doesn’t need to claim your soul. Then I’ll crush the life out of him.”

“What happens if we don’t get the rest of Zee’s soul back?”

“She won’t live for more than a few days.”

Dread snaked up her spine, and she pulled her white stone from her purse, rolling it between her fingers. “She’ll die?”

“Yes. Put your charm away. I’ve got to refill you. You drained the rest of your remaining energy in your foolish attempt at fighting me.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but she was too tired for an argument. “How do you refill me?”

He crossed to her, holding out his hand. She grasped it, and he pulled her up. As she stood, dizziness fogged her mind, and he slipped an arm around her back to steady her. “I will imbue you with Emerazel’s fire.”

She was suddenly acutely aware of his bare skin and the heat radiating from his body. She looked down at the slow rise and fall of his chest, drinking in his delicious, earthy smell.
Oh, God. I don’t have the hots for this guy, do I?
“Will that be painful?”

“No.” His gaze slid down to her shoulder. “I’m just going to put my hand on your scar. My heat will flow into you.”

“Okay.” She couldn’t take her eyes off his stunning face.
No wonder he’s full of himself.

Kester pulled down the strap of her gown, then her pink bra strap. The cool cabin air tickled her skin. He pressed his palm flat against her shoulder. He closed his eyes, chanting in his strange language. A glorious, tingling heat pulsed from his fingertips over her skin, caressing her neck. The heat moved slowly, whispering around her throat, slipping lower over her breasts before pulsing down her abdomen. Was it her imagination, or was his thumb moving slowly up and down on her lower back, lazily stroking her skin through her silk dress? A hot, euphoric thrill seeped into her body, blazing through her core, and she fought the urge to press herself against his strong body. Molten power ignited her veins, and she felt a smile curl her lips.
I’m back.

Kester opened his eyes, gazing down at her. “Better?” His thumb still languidly stroked her lower back, and she could feel herself arching into him.

Her eyes lingered on his perfect lips, and for just a moment, she considered kissing him—before she reminded herself that a) he was an entitled wanker most of the time, b) Zee’s unconscious body lay just a few feet away, and c) his nickname was “the Headsman
.” Probably not a good idea to kiss someone named for an executione
r.

She rolled her neck. “I feel amazing. I’m ready to find this incubus.”

K
ester crossed his room
, pulling open a drawer in a small, wooden dresser. He took out a black sweater, slipped it over his chiseled torso. “There’s a little problem with our plan.”

“What?”

“I have no idea where to find Abrax. He’s an ancient and powerful incubus. He dwells in Nyxobas’s Manhattan lair, and I have no idea—”

“I know where he was going.”

Pulling on a pair of grey trousers, he shot her a sharp look. “He told you?”

“He mentioned a place called Oberon’s. Something about wanting to bring me there as a pet.”

Kester curled back his lip in a snarl.

“Do you know what it is?”

“No, I was hoping you might.”

“It’s a private club for the fae. Unfortunately, they have a strict door policy, enforced by ancient and powerful magic even I can’t manipulate. You can only get in if a fairy gives you explicit permission.” He nodded at Zee. “And she’s the only fae I know. Obviously, Abrax is connected.”

Ursula shook her head, the guilt pressing on her chest like a rock. “If Abrax is as elusive as you say, I’m not letting this lead get away.” It was her fault Zee’s soul was missing. If she hadn’t screwed up her first mission with her off-putting personality, none of this would have happened. And, of course, if F.U. hadn’t carved the mark in the first place, Zee would be sipping a champagne cocktail in Club Lalique right now. “There must be someone you can bribe.”

“The fae aren’t interested in money.”

“Are you serious? Have you ever been shopping with Zee?”

“She’s an exception—she’s a solitary fairy. Most of the fae in New York are part of Oberon’s court, and have all the wealth they could possibly desire.”

“Oberon’s court. That’s where we’re going? Some sort of fairy realm?”

“Yes. And Oberon is their king.” He slipped into a pair of shoes. “Maybe we can catch Abrax coming in or out. It’s our best chance.”

“But he had a huge head start.” She closed her eyes, trying to think of all the times she and Katie had sneaked into clubs in London when they couldn’t afford the entry fee. They’d usually asked a bartender or waiter they knew to add them to the list. “Are there staff there? A hostess you could charm?”

Kester paced across the floor like a caged animal. “We won’t be able to talk to them until we get in. It’s in another dimension. The only way in is through magic we can’t control.”

Another dimension? Bloody hell.
“Well, how does Zee’s hairstylist get in? Luis? She said something about how he’s always there with redheads.”

Kester stopped pacing, and his green eyes flicked to hers. “Tell me about him.”

She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know much, except that he’s slightly creepy and into gingers.”

“How big is he?”

“Big. Muscular. About your size.”

Kester rubbed a hand over his chin. “He might be fae.”

“What would a fae be doing cutting hair, if they’re infinitely wealthy?” She touched her lips. “Though you did say they’re hedonists—and he was a little too fond of massaging my hair. He leaned down and sniffed it at one point. I did think that was odd.”

“Exactly. Fae have their own particular earthly pleasures that excite them. For some it’s food, for some it’s sex. And for Luis, apparently, it’s hair.”

“I’ll call him.”

Kester nodded. “Good. Just don’t tell him why we want to go. Oberon’s is supposed to be used for pure pleasure only. If he invites any trouble inside, he’ll be banned for life.”

She bent down, snatching her purse from the floor. “Don’t worry. I’ll use my silky charm.” She pulled out her mobile phone, and dialed Luis’s number. He picked up on the third ring. In the background she could hear “Girl, You Got a Magic Body” playing.

“Hi, Luis. This is Ursula. You, um, cut my hair recently.”

“Mmm. Ginger. You want a scalp massage?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you’re going to Oberon’s tonight? I heard you talking about it with Zee when you were doing that amazing thing to my scalp. And, well, I just wanted to try it out. I’ve heard it’s the best place to enjoy yourself.”

“I wasn’t planning on going. But for you, I could change my plans.”

“Ooh, that’s wonderful.” She let her voice drip with honey. “And Kester will be with me.”

“Oh,” he said flatly. “They won’t want the Headsman inside.”

“I’ll let you touch my hair,” she blurted. “It’s important. I mean, it’s important that I enjoy myself.”
Lure him in, Ursula
,
like a master
. “And it’s important that my hair… enjoys itself… with your fingers on it. You can smell it.”
Bollocks.

“Mmmm.” She heard him take a long breath through his nose. “Yes. Let me get dressed. You’ll be on the list under Kester’s name. Peele. I’ll tell them to make an exception for tonight, and the wards will be lifted for both of you. Your hair will get to enjoy itself with my hands all night.” He hung up with a click.

She grimaced at what she’d just agreed to.

Kester was staring at her. “That was your silky charm?”

She scowled. “Hey. It worked. I’m getting us into Oberon’s, which is more than you could do. Let’s go.” She was charged up with Emerazel’s fire, and her body burned with power.

“Not so fast. We have some preparation to do first.” He looked down at her blood-soaked dress. “Staring with getting you out of that gown.”

She arched an eyebrow. If Zee’s unconscious body weren’t a few feet away putting a damper on things, that statement might have made her blush. “And what did you have in mind?”

“Fae fashion is extremely opulent.” He walked around her, his gaze sliding down her body. “I think I know just the right look for you.”

She crossed her arms. “You’re going to dress me?”

Before she’d even got the words out, he was chanting in his magical language, and his magic caressed her skin. Her dress began to transform, the grey silk taking on a stunning grass-green hue. It floated around her legs as if on a vernal wind, the delicate fabric skimming over her thighs. Two long slits inched up the front while her neckline plunged. Gold vines snaked around her waist to just below her breasts, holding the stunning fabric in place. Silver bracelets appeared on her wrists, and a warm, white fur jacket appeared in his hands. With a graceful flourish he placed the jacket on her shoulders.

Staring at his creation, he ran a finger over his lower lip. “Now you look perfect.”

She glanced down at her ensemble. “I didn’t have you pegged as a clothing designer.”

“There’s very little I’m not good at.”

She nearly pulled a muscle rolling her eyes.