Crystal Jordan - Demon's Caress

“Food.” She hated to agree with anything they said, but she didn’t want breakfast either. It was the end of her day, dinnertime. But like most of the evil creeps they hunted down, demons had to keep night hours. Plus, mortals tended to dismiss the strange things they saw in the dark as figments of their imagination, which helped demons catch their prey. “Nothing sweet. Just regular food.”

A rare grin flashed over the sharp features of his face. “I think I can manage that.”

She kicked herself for smiling back at him. She’d decided long ago to turn away from relationships and focus on her work, which wouldn’t leave her raw and stripped bare. When she was on a hunt, she was in control. She had a mission. She had a purpose. In a bond, there was no control—there was only pain and suffering and insecurity. Bonds could make her feel more alone than being single ever had. And no one was going to save her when a soul got so evil it almost sucked her into the vortex prison. She’d be tangled with that darkness for eternity.

Horror curdled in her gut. It was good reminder of why she didn’t want a Triad, no matter how attractive or interesting she found these two demons.

“This is it.” Raum held the door open for her, motioning her into the apartment, which was three floors above hers.

She blinked when she stepped over the threshold. It was nice. Masculine and comfortable. The furnishings were straight lines and warm wood. The walls were medium blue, unlike her blank white walls. “This is pretty.”

It was nothing like she’d expected from them. In fact, she hadn’t thought much about demons decorating their apartments to make them more inviting. Lilim’s place had been wild, with her own graffiti spray painted on the walls and hanging aluminum street signs she’d stolen, which had just made Maron shake her head and roll her eyes the few times she’d been there. But the men’s space was…somewhere to relax. She could feel her muscles unkinking as she walked around the open space, the kitchen, dining room and living room flowing together.

“Mid-century, modern Danish style.” Kobal gestured to the furniture, then pulled out a chair at the dining room table. “I’ve collected the pieces here and there over the decades. It’s comfortable. Have a seat.”

“I like it.” The longer she stood there, the more she could see how it fit them. Understated and not fussy, like Raum, but still eye-catching and compelling, like Kobal. That she was even thinking this way made her frown. It didn’t matter where or how they lived, so long as they did their jobs. She was never coming back to their place anyway.

The bonus of eating here was that she could leave whenever she wanted. There was no way to force her to stay—she could evaporate through a wall if she needed to. If they’d stayed in her apartment, she couldn’t have kicked them out if they’d decided to hang around. This worked out much better, and not because she liked the feel of their place.

She slid into the chair Kobal held out for her, crossing her legs under the table. Best to get this cozy scene of domesticity over with as quickly as possible and return to her solitary reality. “So, what’s for dinner?”

“Steak. That all right with you?” Raum moved around the kitchen with the same quiet efficiency that he did everything else. He stopped for a moment to kiss Kobal. It was over in a moment, but the sight of their mouths meshing made her remember the night they spent in a cheap motel somewhere in New Mexico. They’d kissed then too. And they’d kissed her. They liked to touch. A lot. Heat bloomed inside her and she pressed her thighs together to quell the ache between them.

“Yeah.” She coughed and glanced away. “I like steak.”

“Sounds good to me.” Kobal sauntered over and parked himself next to her, his shoulder and thigh crowding against hers. She almost swallowed her tongue as lust slammed into her. There was nothing sexual in the way he touched her, but it didn’t matter. No matter how she sliced it, she wanted him. Them. Hell, Raum didn’t even have to lay a finger on her to rev her up. It was hot to watch him.

There was no safe place to look at this point. They were there, big and hot and far too sexy for her peace of mind. She shifted in her seat, which just rubbed her up against Kobal, and sent anticipation zinging through her system. She pulled in a deep breath, and her awareness expanded. She could feel the heat of them, smell them, sense the very essence of them. It was like when she hunted a dark soul, only far more pleasurable.

“Give me a hand with this, would you, Kobal?”

She startled when Raum’s deep voice rumbled from the kitchen, and sighed in relief at the momentary reprieve when his partner got up to help. The relief was short lived when Raum took Kobal’s seat beside her, his side plastered against her. Kobal sat across from her, offering her a smile that would entice an angel to fall.

The men set three plates on the table, each one loaded with steak, steaming vegetables and rice. It smelled delicious. Her stomach rumbled, yet another need from her body demanding attention.

“Thank you,” she said, pulling her plate toward her.

“No problem. Enjoy.” Raum flashed a quiet smile when he watched them dig into the food.

She shifted in her seat, biting back a moan when she rubbed against his broad shoulder and muscled thigh. Her breasts grew heavy, the crests drawing to tight points. The lips of her sex went slick with juices. It was too much—she wanted to scream, to punch something, to drag both men to the floor and fuck their brains out. Anything to release some of the tension that gripped her rebellious body. She stared down at her meal, eating mechanically. It was tasty, but she didn’t care. This was, without a doubt, the most carnally frustrating day of her life.

Kobal’s sensual voice flowed over her, but she was doing anything to keep her focus off of them. Just put the food in her mouth and chew. Just finish this meal and get the hell out of there before she did something stupid. She choked when Raum’s big hand slid up her shoulder to get her attention. Tingles broke over her skin, and she shivered, her sex clenching in helpless desire.

“Do we have your attention?” Kobal’s blue eyes twinkled, inviting her to join in the fun with him. “How long have you been working with Samael?”

She swallowed the bite of food in her mouth. “A hundred and five years…and a couple of weeks, give or take.”

Raum’s fingers moved to massage the back of her neck while Kobal nodded and kept talking. “We were in the Buenos Aires silo for the last couple of centuries, before we transferred here.”

There were silos like theirs all over the world, one for every hellmouth, each headed by a high demon like Samael. Of course, operatives could be sent anywhere in the world. It wasn’t a jurisdictional thing. Whoever’s watchers identified the evil first was responsible for bringing in the soul, no matter how far the hunters had to go to make that happen.

“What made you transfer?” She forced the words out passed the knot of lust that squeezed her chest. Raum’s hands continued to work the nape of her neck, and it was all she could do not to drop her head forward and give in to his touch.

“Who doesn’t want to work with Samael? We’d caught some serious nasties after we bonded, and we figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask if he wanted some new blood.” His white teeth flashed in a grin. “Besides, we figured—what’s the worst he could do? Roast us alive?”

She chuckled. Their boss had an exacting reputation, but that was what made him the best. “Nah, he’ll just send you after an evil housewife soccer mom. One who’s more worried about getting in your pants than being soul sucked.”