Pandora's Box (14 page)

“No.” Nix knew not to expect more. The one time he’d asked Georgie how his life would end, she’d remained mute. Her silence said everything. Lonely. Short. Above all, bloody. He took a deep breath and tried to lighten the mood. “I’ll settle for the easy chicks I pick up on the road.”

“Man-whore.” She grinned.

“Guilty.”

“So…I’m guessing you like sex?”

Imp!
Nix laughed, surprised she’d brought sex up. Her eyes were alight with devilment. Sweet baby Jesus, she could tempt a saint. And he’d sure as sin love to teach her how to enjoy sex as much as he did. The agonies of Hell might be worth the pleasure he could find with her in a bed…on the sofa…on the floor or kitchen table for all he cared. He’d take her on the front lawn if he could get away with it.

The right teacher could show her the glories of sex, but he wouldn’t volunteer for the job. She thought men weren’t desperate and craving her body? His lust proved at least one man felt that way about her. Too innocent to recognize a man’s lusty glances, she dismissed his as chaste flirtation. In the grocery store, he’d witnessed more than one male shopper show interest in her.

He would not touch her. As soon as he solved her demon problem—if he could—he’d walk out the door as he did after every hunt.

If he didn’t have to put them both down first.

He couldn’t forget she wasn’t the type a man walked out on after taking her to his bed. Did he like sex? Only an inexperienced woman would think to ask him such a question.

“Very much, Mads.” Grave implications of her possible DNA filtered through his head. “I like sex very, very much.”

And she would too, if the right man showed her the pleasures of the flesh. He just wasn’t the one for the job.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Nix placed a call to Georgie. When he couldn’t get her on the phone, he called his uncle. The banging of pots and pans told him Mads remained busy in the kitchen. The smell of a breakfast feast thick in the air forced a hungry grumble through his gut. He could fall in love with a woman who cooked for him the way she did.

“Nix, any luck?” His uncle’s idea of a ‘hello.’ Nix rolled his eyes.

“Lots of shit going down here. I need answers. Fast. And I can’t get Georgie on the phone.” He chewed on a fingernail. Honks filtered through the receiver, indicating at this early hour his uncle already pounded the streets of New York City.

“She’s probably busy.”

“I’ve been calling her for three and a half hours.”

James sighed. “I’ll try and reach her. She’s likely tied up doing a reading.”

“For three and a half hours?”

A long pause from James’s end, and when he spoke, his voice held a twinge of hesitance, “I might worry if I hadn’t talked to her right before she went in for a reading. You know she’ll get back with you when she’s free, but I’ll call her when we hang up.”

Yeah, but Nix wanted to talk now. Anxiety ticked through his system like the final seconds on the clock of a bomb. It wasn’t like Georgie to go off the radar this long.

“Tell me what’s going down.”

Nix explained everything, from the attack at the grocery store to the previous night’s finale, all possible revelations included.

“Kings, huh? So, Georgie was right.”

“Yeah.”

James’s whistle came through the phone loud and clear.

“Did you miss the succubus and half-demon kid part?”

“No.” The scuffling on the other end sounded like his uncle shook his head. “I’m catching the next flight out.”

The line went dead. James wasn’t known for his tender side.

“Yeah, good-bye, and love you, too.” Nix rolled his eyes, pressed the end button, and tapped the phone to his chin. It’d take time for his uncle to get there, and he wouldn’t rest easy until he talked to Georgie.

The doorbell rang, yanking him from his murky thoughts.

“Nix, will you get the door?” Mads called from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he said, pushing out of the chair. He tucked the phone into his pocket, ruffled Amos’s hair and studied the picture the child worked on. Nothing special this time, just an airplane with a stick figure showcased in the small window.

He moved to the door and opened it. “Georgie.” The best sight he’d seen in a long time. “I’ve been calling you for over three hours. Where the hell have you been?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” She winked at him. “Headed here. It’s a long flight from California. I took the redeye. I’m tired, and I’d love to come in.”

“Not until you spray this in your mouth.” He pulled out his breath freshener and handed it over. Filled with holy water, any demon would show some physical reaction to the substance.

Georgie snatched the bottle from his hand and sprayed the liquid on her tongue. She shoved it back into his hands and breezed past him into Madison’s home, proving she wasn’t a Mimicker, since no one had invited her inside.

“Where is she?” Georgie asked, scanning the room. “Ah,” she said, her eyes landing on Amos. “You must be Amos?”

She approached the boy. Amos smiled at her. “I drew this for you.” He held the picture he’d been drawing toward her.

“Thank you, precious.” Georgie chuckled. “Knew I was coming, huh?”

He nodded, picked up his Matchbox cars, and pushed them across the floor, making vroom, vroom noises. Georgie knelt beside Amos, and all his kiddish noises came to a halt.

“Do you realize you were given a choice last night?” Wide-eyed, he blinked at her, but said nothing. “A new, much different path was laid. You must choose the road. Good or evil.”

Amos went back to driving his cars. Nix thought he’d dismissed Georgie’s revelation—if he even understood the significance of what she said—but the child surprised him by saying, “I pick Momma.”

“Smart choice. Your momma is a strong woman.” She picked a car up off the floor and placed it on the table. “Someone’s going to trip over it.”

“Momma’s good,” Amos said with a nod.

Georgie agreed and rose to her feet just as Madison entered from the kitchen with a towel in her hands. Glancing between the two of them, Mads offered a weak smile.

“You must be Madison.” His aunt rushed to her, clasping her in a bear hug. Several inches shorter than Madison, she seemed tiny in comparison. “And you’re taller than I expected.”

Mads laughed and patted her back awkwardly. “Yes, tall. And you are…who?”

His aunt pulled back and touched her short brown hair. “Forgive me, I’m Georgie.”

“The Georgie? As in, psychic Georgie who sent Nix and the gang to help us?”

Georgie nodded. “You have a lot of questions, don’t you?”

Surprise flared in Mads’s eyes. “Can you answer them all?”

“We’ll see.”

“Be forewarned, Mads. My aunt answers questions with vague riddles more times than not.” Nix came up behind Georgie and wrapped a fond arm around her shoulders, hugging her small frame to his larger one.

“Mads?” Georgie quirked a startled glance at him before settling her thoughtful, psychic eye on Mads.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “You know me and my nicknames.” He winked at her. “She earned that one fighting the demon like a madwoman last night.”

Georgie canted her head to the side and considered Mads thoughtfully. A mixture of disbelief, maybe a touch of shock, and a lot of acceptance varnished his aunt’s features. He recognized her expression and guessed his new nickname indicated something of vital importance. He wouldn’t ask. Experience taught him Georgie would only give him a vague answer. At the moment, he held an encyclopedia of unanswered questions. He could do without adding to them.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Over a heavy, southern-fried breakfast, Madison charged Georgie with her first question. “Everything the demon said last night, is it true?”

Georgie dabbed at her lips with a napkin and chewed her food slowly, as if she needed the time to mull over her words.

Madison couldn’t eat for the knots twisting in her stomach. She pushed her plate aside and sipped on her coffee.

“You’re not eating?” The psychic nodded at Madison’s plate.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I’ll eat it.” Nix reached for the plate. Georgie smacked his hands. A nervous giggled welled up at Nix’s shocked expression.

“She needs to eat, keep her strength up.” Georgie pointed her fork at Madison’s plate. “Eat. Or I don’t answer questions.”

Madison glanced at Nix, and he shrugged. “I forgot to mention she mother hens everyone to death.”

“It’s a gift, you rascal.”

Irritated at having to wait to get her answers, Madison pushed her food around on her plate, cut a small bite of egg and put it in her mouth. It could have been cardboard. Her nerves were too tangled to concentrate on anything else. She needed to know if the demon spoke the truth.

“Has he tried to get in your pants yet?”

Madison choked on the direct question.

“Georgie!” Nix glanced at Amos. “Young ears.”

“He’s not stupid.” Georgie tsked them both. “He knows more than you think he does.”

To clear her throat, Madison drank a heavy swallow of orange juice. “Nix, I think you forgot to mention she’s direct, too.”

Georgie grinned. “Another gift.”

“Which leads to my succubus question.” Madison stared at the older woman. “Is it true?”

Her brain had painted a flamboyant picture of Georgie—wild hair, a couple of scarves, lots of gaudy jewelry, heavy makeup, and maybe a turban. The cinematic version of a psychic, but Georgie fit a different mold altogether. Short and modestly plump, dark brown hair cut to accentuate her pixie features, makeup light and well applied. She wore a wedding ring, a watch, discreet diamond stud earrings, and a pressed, elegant pantsuit. She would stick out like a sore thumb with the other so-called psychics at Jackson Square in New Orleans. Instead, she reminded her of a woman she could’ve bumped into in any well-to-do neighborhood or exclusive club.

Georgie sent a pointed glance at Madison’s uneaten food.

“I took a bite.” Giving the woman a mutinous glare, she pushed her plate aside. “Did the demon tell the truth about me being part succubus?” She held her breath and waited. The psychic stared at her long enough for Nix to finish chewing the food in his mouth and swallow. Even he stopped eating then, waiting for her to give her answer.

“Yes.”

The world shifted on its axis, and she’d be forever grateful she was seated when she got the news. She dropped her face into her hands. She couldn’t look at Nix. She knew he’d think differently about her now, and no way would he be capable of gazing on her without thinking her a monster. How could he not? She wouldn’t blame him.

He reached across the table, pulled her hand away from her face, and squeezed it. Comforting her? He couldn’t hide the doubt in his eyes, though, and his ambiguity would haunt her.

Georgie stared at their joined hands on the table, a deep introspection glazing her face.

Her heart beat a manic ra-tat-tat against her chest. “And the rest of what Micah said? He’s a King? And he is the man…er…demon I married?”

Nix squeezed her hand again, giving her the silent support she needed. Why couldn’t Micah have been more like him?

“What he said about himself and Amos…it’s all true.”

“Oh, my God.”

She’d thought the world shifted off its axis with the first revelation? Now, it spiraled willy-nilly out of control into the solar system on a path of destruction. Yanking her hand from Nix’s grasp, she sat back and dashed away the immediate tears. Everything in the universe had gone wrong. Nothing fit anymore; nothing made sense. She’d lived a strict Christian upbringing, with her mother a demonic entity who sold her to a King of Hell.

Amos nibbled on a piece of bacon. Oh, God, her son was half demon, or fallen angel, a quarter human, and the remainder succubus.

Madison bolted, needed some space and a little cleansing air. She jerked open the front door and stumbled onto the front porch. The railing kept her from falling off when she leaned over it, fearing she’d vomit.

Suddenly Nix arrived, tugging her around and enfolding her into his arms. The unique smell of him would be imprinted on her memory.

She shook her head, her face scrubbing against his chest. “Don’t.” She choked back a sob. “You shouldn’t be touching me.”

“Nothing’s changed, Mads.”

“Everything’s changed!” She pushed back. He refused to release her, and she remained in his arms, close enough to see gold flecks in his green eyes. The exact shade of the aura she’d seen around him last night. “My whole life…a lie! A chess game between demonic factions for what purpose? For what gain? Oh, God, let go of me, Nix.”
Before I sully you
. She couldn’t bring herself to utter those final words.

He kissed her. Surprise shot through her, but desire hit her harder. Her body hummed as if plugged into an electrical socket, awakening desires dormant before that moment.

She latched onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing her body against him. Nix stepped her back, lifted her to sit on the handrail, and settled between her open legs, pulling her snugly against him. Cradling him like he was meant to be there, she wrapped a leg around his hip and pulled him in tighter, delighting in the scrub of his jeans right where she wanted his dick.

One of his hands pressed against her lower spine, holding her tight, and the other dug in her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. His tongue lapped against hers over and over again, growing more frenzied, burning a path of desire from the hot points of her nipples to her pulsing clitoris.

He broke the kiss, but remained near, his mouth mere centimeters from hers. His breath panted against her face as his fingers worked against her scalp. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice dark and edgy.

The words were as potent as a physical slap. Planting her hands on his shoulders, she leaned back and gazed at him. Half-lidded green eyes stared at her mouth like a man in need of her breath to keep him alive.

“Proof my succubus touch affects you.” She pushed him back enough to shove off the railing. She knew he followed her into the house because she could feel his stare, not because she could hear him. Stealth must be a virtue in the Sherlock community. “You should leave, Nix.”

As fast as he could.

“Not going anywhere.”

She jerked around to face him. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he appeared terribly uncertain.

“Then X me out, or whatever the hell you call it!” A succubus had no business living among mortals.

“What!” Fists balled at his sides. “Killing you doesn’t solve a goddamn thing.”

“It rids the world of one more demon.” She wondered if she sounded as dead as she felt.