The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers (11 page)

Grandma cleared her throat. "Hunters are a different breed. Right,
Sid?"

The DIP officer nodded.

"I've heard of them," Grandma continued, "but I never saw one
before. I say keep your distance."

Sid scoured a hand over his forehead, visibly shaken. "The lady's
right. This one's dangerous and unlicensed. Ly wants to shoot him, but so far,
nobody can catch him."

Dangerous or not, I couldn't help wondering whether this "hunter"
could help me with Phil. As far as I could tell, if he was hunting succubi, he
was on our side—and doing more than the official magical establishment.
He might even be able to tell me more about Serena. I had a feeling she was
special.

"How would I find him?" I asked.

The fairy cocked an eyebrow at me.

"What's it matter to you? You've got your number."

He shot me the stink eye. "Suit yourself. His name is Max Devereux, a
real dandy boy. He hangs out at the Pure nightclub in Caesar's Palace. You'll
know him when you see him."

I nodded, hoping he was right.

Officer Fuzzlebump zipped his briefcase. "All right," he said,
backing out of the door. "I'm out of here." He paused, like he was
thinking twice about what he was about to say. "Just so you know, I'll
keep an eye out on my cab run tonight."

He shrugged, stuffing his badge into his pocket. "Six was okay.
Thirteen we could handle. But twenty-five?"

"Twenty-six," I corrected. "The Department of Intramagical
Procedures needs to address this."

He gave me a look that suggested it was my fault before he turned and
splashed down the hall, scattering schools of fish as he went.

"What are you going to do?" I called after him.

Officer Fuzzlebump cursed under his breath. "You're asking the wrong
person, demon slayer," he called back to me. "What are
you
going to do?"

Excerpt from
The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers:

All demons, no matter the breed, seem to be fond of deception. Succubi,
however, take the act of deceit to a new level by becoming their target's
fantasy. While searching for a new victim, or in their "predatory
mode," they are faceless, formless beings similar to department store
mannequins. This blank-slate approach doesn't seem to be noticed by nonslayers.
As soon as a succubus has her target in sight, she morphs to become her
victim's ideal woman and commences the seduction. Succubi prey on both humans
and magical beings. Further study seems improbable as I intend to kill the next
succubus I see
.

I couldn't believe it. Grandma decided to sleep on the issue. Sleep! As if I
could even sit still. I refused to think there was nothing we could do about it
tonight.

The Red Skulls poured themselves into their rooms shortly before midnight.
They'd had the nerve to go gambling and, from the smell of it, drinking again.
On the upside, Ant Eater and the gang had trailed a flying griffin for thirty
miles down Highway 95. That had to drive Dimitri nuts. On the down side, they
lost him somewhere.

He'd told the Red Skulls he had pressing business. "Business?" I
asked Pirate for the third time in less than a minute. "What
business?"

"Something important enough for him to go flying down Route 95. Good
thing them nonmagical folks can't see that. It'd be pan-de-monium. Like my new
word? Pan-de-monium." Pirate circled twice before curling up on the
carpet, his chin resting on his paws.

"Lovely," I said.

What kind of business could Dimitri possibly have with a succubus? Much less
a whole army of them?

We were making a big mistake. I could feel it. I paced between Dimitri's
room and my own a few dozen times. Naturally, he hadn't returned. He wasn't
answering his cell phone, and whatever he was doing certainly wasn't worth
risking his life. Jerk.

Pirate followed me, two steps behind. Luckily, he'd given up on offering
solutions.

My leather bustier itched with sweat, and I wondered for the twentieth time
why I even bothered with it since I seemed incapable of wearing it without a
T-shirt to make it more modest—or dumpy, depending on your opinion and my
mood, which was pretty rotten right now.

When I'd had enough of stomping, I decided to do something a little more
constructive. I planted myself at the writing desk by the window.

Forcing down my frustration, I tried to work on
The Dangerous Book for
Demon Slayers
with a half-dead hotel pen and a few sheets of Paradise
Hotel notepaper, but gave up almost as soon as I started. Number one—I
was done half-assing anything. Number two—I was too mad to think
straight. I yanked off my
Don't Mess with Texas
T-shirt and hurled it
into the corner near the bathroom. Then because, okay, yes it was driving me
crazy, I stalked back over, yanked it up and, hands jerking, folded it neatly.

Grandma snorted and rolled in her sleep. She'd taken the bed closest to the
door, her face smashed into the down pillow.

Instead of smothering her with it, I ripped open the curtains and stared out
at the lights of The Strip.

If I really wanted to think about it—which I didn't—I knew I
should have taken charge before this happened. We should have cut Phil's ties
to Serena immediately. Then I should have taken Phil with me and gone after
Dimitri myself. I'd had my suspicions about the wards protecting this place. I
could blame Grandma for making a bad decision, but I hadn't trusted my gut and
pushed for anything else. I stood by, like most people do when there's trouble
around, thinking Grandma knew what she was doing. But I was a demon slayer now,
and, yeah I might be on a permit, but I couldn't afford to hold back.

It wouldn't happen again.

I wound my fingers into the cool leather belt at my waist. Grandma couldn't
help. The magical bureaucracy wouldn't help. I had to start trusting myself. It
might not make life easier, but then again, I doubted demon slaying was
supposed to be a cakewalk.

A voice trilled from the hallway, dragging me out of my thoughts. "Miss
Lizzie!" A warm glow shone under the door before a bright orange Skeep
wriggled underneath.

He burned like a miniature fireball. "Meko at your service. Forgive the
intrusion," the mystical concierge said, hovering under the knob,
"but you did tell me to fetch you the minute the griffin in 1302 entered
his room."

I nodded, edging past the dead-tired dog curled at my feet, saying a quick
prayer of thanks that Dimitri made it back okay.

Meko glowed with pride. "I assume it has been a minute and a half,
roughly, since I had to fly down the hall and summon you."

"Thanks," I said, wondering how to tip an orb.

He tittered and shot back under the door. I stuffed my key card into the
back pocket of my kick-ass demon-slayer pants and hurried down the hall.

The splish-splash of the water in the hall felt cool and eerily dry against
my naked toes. And even though it was half past two in the morning, someone had
ordered pizza.

I'd barely knocked on Dimitri's door when he yanked me inside.

"Quickly," he said, closing the door behind him with the swish of
something that sounded like Velcro. Had he been expecting me? Knowing him, I
wouldn't doubt it.

Thick, dark hair tumbled onto his forehead, setting off his angled features
and giving him a deceptively GQ look. I knew better. The man was 100 percent
raw power.

I gasped as soon as I got a good look at him. Red cuts marred the taut olive
skin of his chest. "You're hurt!" He looked pale, almost gaunt, which
was impossible considering I'd given the man a thorough inspection the night
before and found him in amazing health. My body warmed at the thought.

Square jaw clenched, he turned from me, but not before I saw the crimson
stains on his jeans. He'd bled heavily, or someone else had.

"We need to talk." I followed him past the bed. "I can't
believe you ran off like that," I said to the angry purple bruises on his
back as he dug through his traveling case. "I was half out of my mind. I
didn't know if we'd find you dead or sucked dry or possessed or—" I
captured his arm. "Are you even okay? Look at me."

He whipped his head around, and I nearly fell over backward. His eyes burned
yellow like a cat's, and the skin around them had turned ashen.

Fear shot through me, and I instinctively yanked my hand away. "What in
Hades?"

I saw a flash of something vulnerable in him. Hurt?

Dimitri gripped my wrists. "Let's say succubi have an unpleasant effect
on me," he said, his voice strained.

I found myself wanting to break his grip. It's not that his grip was
painful. No, it was worse. He made me feel weak. I was powerless to move,
powerless to stop what corrupted him. He was in danger because I'd needed to
come here and there wasn't a darned thing I could do about it.

My heart sped up as pulled me toward him, slowly—deliberately.

I gasped. "When were you going to tell me?"

The side of his mouth tugged into a wry grin. "I think I just
did."

I scraped my hand down the rough stubble on his cheek. His skin felt
different, rougher almost. Part of me wanted to drag him out of Vegas and
handcuff him to the pool table at the Hairy Hog biker bar. I'd have tried it if
it had any shot of working. The other part of me was glad to have him with me
however I could.

Power radiated from him, not the warm, steady energy of the sun he usually
exuded. Something else entirely had a handle on my noble griffin. Dread settled
in my stomach. We had to break him free of the evil that was draining him of
his very self.

I dragged my thumb over his lower lip. "We'll get you out of here,
babe. Soon."

He smelled like smoke and seasoned leather. Before I knew it, he was kissing
me, hard and fast and with everything he had. He kissed me with his entire
body, his arms crushing me into him. He moved one hand up to caress the curve
of my neck, sending heat searing down my spine.

More. I let him push my head back while his other hand gripped the curve of
my butt. He showered me with hot, open, wet kisses while he forced me even
tighter against him. His chest, his legs, his thighs—everything felt
tight, warm and delicious.

And—my body chilled. Different.

I dragged my mouth away from his. "Wait," I said, refusing to give
in as he trailed scorching kisses up my neck. I squeaked as he nipped the
tender spot behind my ear. "Stop." I brought my fingers to the spot
and my heart quickened when I saw he'd drawn blood.

"I need to know. What's happening to you?"

He dragged the bustier down, exposing my breasts. "Do you like
it?" He flicked a tongue across my nipple.

"Yes," I gasped. "I mean, no."

Desire swamped my body to the point where I never felt so free, or exposed.
Like I stood on the edge of an immense chasm, teetering on the verge of
discovery—if only I had the courage to let go.

Dimitri shot me a wicked grin. Then he took turns with my breasts, licking
and sucking them until I thought I was going to melt right there. I tried to
push him away, but he was too strong.

I gripped two handfuls of his rich, dark hair as he continued his delicious
assault. "We have to get you out of here."

He kissed the tip of my nose, my cheeks, my eyes. "I'm your
protector," he said, guiding me backward. My knees hit the bed and we went
over, his powerful weight on top of me. His hard gaze rooted me in place.

I couldn't move if I wanted to.

Dimitri claimed to be my protector, but he never actually, officially…
oh heavens. He slid a hand down the front of my leather pants and found my very
core. Pleasure spiraled down my spine. I almost shot off the bed, and he
somehow used the opportunity to leave my pants in a pile somewhere. I had no
idea what happened to my underwear. He pressed against me as I gripped his shoulders,
trying to stop his—yow—roaming mouth from finding mine so I could
at least try to have some kind of conversation. This was important.

It was hard to concentrate, impossible to do anything but feel.

I gasped before giving in and tasting the saltiness of his shoulder, his
collarbone, the curve of his neck. I braced my forehead against his shoulder.
"I don't want you protecting me if it means, if it means…"

He shoved hard into me, and I nearly combusted. I felt every inch of him as
he moved inside me. God, I'd missed him. I didn't know what I would have done
if he hadn't come back.

He took my mouth in a rough kiss, his entire body pushing me, driving us to
a place we'd never been before. I gripped him tight, holding him, reveling in him.
With a shout, he drove us both to the edge and over, the pleasure coming in
wave after glorious wave.

Dimitri rolled over, nestling me in the crook of his arm. His fingers wound
through my hair in a way that would have been soothing if things hadn't been
so… different.

He felt positively toasty under my cheek. I ran a finger along one of the
cuts on his chest. It had healed amazingly fast. If I hadn't seen the gash for
myself earlier, I never would have believed it. "How?" I asked.

"My people heal quicker than most. It's a gift," he said, trailing
his fingers through my hair, "one that I've been especially grateful for
since I met you."

"Well look at that, a griffin comedian." I kept it light, knowing
that I couldn't order him away from here. No, I had to come up with a better
idea.

I shivered and snuggled closer, trying to steal some of his warmth. My body
felt like I'd gone skinny dipping with the polar bears. I closed my eyes and
invoked the girlfriend privilege, planting my icy feet in the warm spot between
his calves. Oh yes… his heat seared my frozen toes.

"Dang, Lizzie!" Dimitri yanked back, and I took the opportunity to
snuggle in up to my knees.