Wicked Pleasure (37 page)

His gaze sharpened, but he didn't say anything.

Please let her find the right words to make him understand. “I want to make love with you in my bed. No special effects. No imaginary world. Just the two of us together in the real world.”

“But I'm not part of your ‘real world.' I've never been part of it.”

The earlier happiness was gone from his voice, and she mourned its loss. “Maybe I
want
you to be part of it.” Okay, treading on dangerous ground here. “I want to wake up with you in our bed. I want to be part of your days, your nights.” Plural. She hoped he noticed the plural. Kim knew she couldn't get much more direct than that unless she uttered the
L
word. And she still didn't have the courage for that, because his rejection would hurt too much.

He smoothed her hair away from her face. “How would you handle your conscience long-term, Kim? I'm not sure what I am anymore, but if I'm a demon, you'd have to deny your duty every day for the rest of your life.”

For the rest of your life.
That sounded promising, didn't it? “What you are is a beautiful man, inside and out, no matter what label the world wants to give you.”

“Thank you.” Bending down, he covered her mouth in a deep kiss that for the time it existed pushed away all the things they hadn't said to each other, maybe would never be able to say. Like how could she grow old and die while he looked forever as he did at this moment? Would the compulsion ever return? How would they handle never knowing who or what he truly was? And what about children? Did he want any? Could he love an adopted child?
And why the hell am I worrying about children when he hasn't said he loves me?

Kim didn't know how any of this would end, but she could make one concession. “I'd like to do the spaceship fantasy with you before I leave. After we kick some alien butt, we can make love in a galaxy far, far away.” If she had to walk away once her job here was finished, she didn't want to look back on a missed chance to make love with him, in or out of a bed.

She'd never know what his reply would've been, because a shout from the base of the wall took them out of the moment.

“Ahoy, ye scurvy dogs. Captain Blood wants a word wi' ye, he does.” The rough, booming voice demanded their attention.

They both looked over the wall.

“Aye, there ye be. Ye weren't planning to escape the castle, now were ye?” The man standing on the ground below them was dressed in full pirate regalia including a hook instead of a hand and an eye patch.

His raspy laugh grated along her nerve endings. “Yer ladder came loose from the wall, it did.” He pointed to where the ladder lay curled in the grass. “ 'Twould have been a sad thing if ye'd fallen to yer death from the ladder, now wouldn't it?” His evil grin revealed several missing teeth. He didn't seem particularly unhappy at the thought of them falling to their deaths.

“Damn. Hell. Bitch. Awk!” The grouchy-looking parrot clinging to the pirate's shoulder flapped its wings and squawked.

Kim winced. “What do you want?”

“I come from the One Whose Name Cannot Be Uttered.” He cleared his throat noisily and spat.

Ick, ick, ick.
Kim glanced at Brynn. He had that fixed expression that told her he was communicating with someone. Okay, she'd keep Captain Disgusting busy.

“Why can't his name be uttered? Hey, I bet he's ashamed of it. Must be something like David Ulysses Martin Boswell. See, when you look at his initials, they spell
DUMB.
” She smiled her most insincere smile.

“Bastard. Slut. Asshole. Awk!” The parrot agreed with her.

Captain Blood scowled. “Ye be not wise to make sport of one so powerful.”

“Yeah, like I'm so scared of someone who has to send Captain Gross and Polly Pottymouth to deliver a message. So what's he want?” This time when she glanced at Brynn he nodded.

“The One Whose Name Cannot Be Uttered wants ye to know he won't destroy ye until Sunday. That will give all the Vaughns a chance to be here for the bloody massacre. Until Sunday, he'll just amuse himself by driving all yer guests from the castle.”

“Shit. Fuck. Dickhead. Awk!” The parrot thought a bloody massacre sounded pretty neat.

Kim watched as Eric and Conall eased into view, each coming from a different direction.

“Um, Kimmie, do you want me to zap the pirate and his parrot? I bet the parrot's saying all those ugly words because the demon in him is steamed. I would be, too, if I got stuck possessing a bird.”

Brynn shook his head. “It's just a projected image, Fo. Only an archdemon could get past the gargoyles.”

At that moment, Eric and Conall dove for the pirate. With a grating laugh and another string of obscenities from his parrot, Captain Blood disappeared.

Kim stepped back. “You were right. The archdemon must be creating the images, probably from inside the castle somewhere.”

Brynn nodded and headed back toward the stairs. “We have to find him and the portal before Sunday.”

Kim sighed for their lost closeness of a few minutes ago. She followed Brynn down the stairs, trying to think of an excuse to explain away her long absence to Vic. But she needn't have bothered.

She reached the great hall to find Vic lounging on a pile of large, colorful pillows in front of the fireplace and surrounded by five maidens who gave new meaning to the word
fair.
One of them was feeding him chocolates, another held a goblet that Kim suspected contained something a little stronger than water, and the other three were massaging his shoulders, brushing his hair, and stroking his chest.

When she walked up to him, he didn't look overjoyed to see her. “This is unbelievable, Kim. I'm a hero for defeating Eric the Evil. My reward is the services of these maidens for the rest of the night.” He did have the grace to look guilty. “We can still go to eat if you want?” His expression said he hoped she didn't “want.”

Kim tried not to look too relieved. “No, you enjoy your reward. I have work to do anyway.”

He didn't try to change her mind. Kim was glad. But now she had free time on her hands. And since the owner of the castle was paying her to design a few meaningful changes, she'd better earn her money. She'd spend the rest of the night working on her plans. By next week—assuming she survived the epic battle between good and evil—she'd be ready to head back to Dallas. She should be happy about that, right?
Waiting for feelings of joy, joy, joy here.
Nope. No joyous feelings. This was all Brynn's fault.

Nursing her bad temper, she stepped onto the elevator. An elderly couple got on behind her, and just as the doors were about to close, Lynsay and Deimos rushed in.

Her sister and Deimos were holding hands and staring at each other with wide, silly grins. Kim had opened her mouth to ask how things were going, when Deimos spoke.

“You've got to come to my room, Kim. We have to show you something.” Deimos's full-head blush hinted at a sexual “something” in his room.

“Yeah, you've gotta see this, Sis. It's awesome.” Lynsay actually glowed.

Uh-oh. Lynsay looked way too happy. Kim would have to talk to Deimos. Her sister had a right to know what he was. But Kim hated to be the evil sister who symbolically tore the young lovers apart.

“My, my, isn't it wonderful? Everyone here is in love. Even you, dear.” The older lady smiled sweetly at Kim. “People in love have that certain glow. Herb and I are going to be married on Saturday in that chapel Mr. Vaughn told us about. You know, the one in those brochures. Is Mr. Vaughn a friend of yours? We saw you with him in the restaurant. Such a nice man.”

Kim had to think for a minute. “Oh, you mean Ye Olde Victorian Wedding Chapel.” Glow? If she was glowing, it was from sexual frustration.

“Mary and I were sweethearts back in school, but we both married someone else and raised families.” Herb squeezed Mary's hand, and she gazed up at him with adoration in her eyes. “We never forgot each other, though. Both our partners died, and now we're going to spend the rest of our lives together.”

That was so sweet Kim felt herself tearing up. Fine, so maybe she was getting all teary because it didn't look like she'd get a shot at a rest-of-my-life with Brynn. And she'd definitely decided she wanted one.

As Kim stepped off the elevator with Lynsay and Deimos, she waved to Herb and Mary. “Congratulations, and I wish you tons of happiness.”

Once outside Deimos's room, she watched him fumble with the key until Lynsay helped him open the door.

Lynsay, her little sister who had no patience with any type of clumsiness in others, smiled lovingly at Deimos. “He's so cute when he gets all nervous and excited.”

Kim followed them into the room and over to the small table beneath the arrow slit masquerading as a window. Once there, they parted to let her see what rested on the table.

“Ohmigod!” Kim blinked and stared.

Sweetie Pie and Jessica were in full, magnificent bloom. Not only were they completely covered with small pink flowers, but the two plants had grown to the size of small bushes.

Deimos wrapped his arm around Lynsay's waist and pulled her tightly against him. “You tell her, love.”

Love?
Kim looked at Lynsay. Her sister seemed down with being called
love.
This was serious.

Lynsay blushed. She never blushed. Kim's sister bought into the belief that blushing was against the kick-butt heroine code.

“Deimos gave his virginity to me. Isn't that incredibly sweet?” Lynsay's gaze stayed fixed on Deimos.

“Incredibly sweet.” Kim backed toward the door. “I'm going to leave, because I think you want to be alone to celebrate. Oh, and Sweetie Pie and Jessica look spectacular.”

Kim didn't think they noticed when she left.

What was the most depressing fact about the last few minutes? The knowledge that if she'd kept Jessica and Sweetie Pie, every one of their little buds would be nothing but withered scraps of unfulfilled promises lying on the floor waiting for the maid to vacuum them up.

Come to think of it, that might very well describe her by the end of the week.

Brynn leaned back in Kim's armchair and watched her put Fo into her jacket pocket. “No purse tonight?”

Her stare was deadly serious. “Demons don't die if you hit them with your purse. I travel light when I hunt.”

It was Saturday night, and his universe had narrowed down to two truths—he loved Kim Vaughn, and they were going to kick some demon butt tonight. He wasn't quite sure where either of these truths would lead him.

She slipped her cell phone into her other pocket. “I hear more guests checked out today. What's our archenemy with the diabolical sense of humor been up to?” Kim had ticked off both Asima and Sparkle this morning by refusing their outfits in favor of jeans, a T-shirt, boots, and her leather jacket—demon-hunting clothes.

“The Milligans checked out after the ghost of Abraham Lincoln stood at the foot of their bed last night and recited the whole Gettysburg Address. The Santoris left this morning after the spirit of Mr. Santori's mother kept turning the lights on and off and shrieking that Mrs. Santori wasn't good enough for her baby. The Santoris have been married for thirty years, but I guess the spirit is still into deep denial. Should I go on?”

“I get the picture. Don't you find it kind of strange that our big bad archdemon hasn't tried to kill any humans, just scare them away from the castle?” She slipped a mini-recorder into her bra.

“He's amusing himself.”
And putting a big hurting on our business.
“Ordinary humans aren't his main target. He's itching for a fight with the Vaughns. The people who live or work on the island are simply hosts for his army. And he's keeping Holgarth, Eric, Conall, and me busy doing damage control. I've spent the last few days trying to calm terrified guests.”

Kim nodded. “If he distracts you guys, you won't have as much time to hunt for him. On the upside, fleeing guests leave more vacant rooms for the Vaughns to fill.” She winced. “Okay, that was insensitive. I'm sorry the Vaughns have brought this kind of trouble to your castle. But it should be over one way or another soon. Lynsay says Dirk has asked everyone to meet in the lobby at midnight. I don't think all the Vaughns have ever gathered in one spot before. It should be quite a sight.”

Brynn made a mental note to be far away from the lobby at midnight, even though he was starting to lean toward the I'm-not-a-demon theory. “What's with the recorder?”

“It's an exorcism ritual. I'm not a priest, so the words by themselves won't cast out a demon, but they'll annoy him to death. Anything that sidetracks a demon is a good thing.” She stuffed a few tissues into her jeans pocket. “Demon ash makes my nose run.”

Brynn nodded. “Funny, but today was pretty quiet. Our archdemon gave everyone a break. I wonder why?” There was some important clue just out of reach.

Kim shrugged. “Maybe he had something else important to do.” She walked over, knelt in front of him, and put her hand on his knee.

Damn. Physical contact. Major distraction.
He forced his attention away from her touch and back to what she was saying.

“The Vaughns are set to go. I had a hard time convincing them to wait until midnight, but they finally saw the wisdom of striking when most ordinary people—read: those not possessed—are in their homes. The fewer uninvolved witnesses to the battle the better. Besides, they need Eric's help, so they had to wait until dark anyway.” She met his gaze, and he saw the fear there.