Page 13 of Something Wicked


  “She’s not kidding about that,” Darrak said. “She never leaves. Sad, really.”

  Leena shot another death ray at the demon before her gaze returned to Lucas and she noticed the small bag he held.

  “What are those?” she asked.

  “Marbles,” Eden interjected. “For his students. Lucas is a teacher. You know, I could use a shiny, lucky marble myself.”

  “That could be arranged.” Lucas smiled. “But first, please answer this question to the best of your ability. Where’s the best place for coffee around here?”

  “There’s a Starbucks just north of here on Yonge Street. Five minute walk. Lots of parking if you take your car.”

  “Excellent answer.” He handed her a marble he pulled from the bag. It had a green twisty center set into the clear glass ball. “See? Positive reinforcement for quality results. I have no idea why some of my students hate me so much.”

  “Kids hate everyone.” It was so nice to talk to someone totally normal. It helped ease her tension a little. He wouldn’t be able to tell her many problems at a glance. It was encouraging.

  He closed her hand over the marble. “Keep that safe. Maybe it’ll bring you some good luck.”

  “I could use some of that today.”

  With a last appreciative look in their new neighbor’s direction, Leena went back into the apartment and Lucas, Eden, and Darrak took the elevator downstairs.

  “So . . . what do you do, Darrak?” Lucas asked.

  “I leech off the charity of others,” he replied smoothly.

  Eden slapped his arm. She really wanted to appear completely normal to Lucas if she could. “Darrak is an . . . entrepreneur of sorts. And an aspiring comedian, obviously.”

  “I see.” Lucas nodded. “And how did you luck out enough to live with two beautiful women?”

  “It’s my cologne. I have to beat the ladies off with a stick.”

  How long was this elevator ride? Darrak was in a strange mood, and she really wanted to get him away from anyone he might scare off.

  “You’re a funny guy,” Lucas observed.

  “Humor helps to mask the pain. It’s my thing.”

  “Are you two married?” Lucas asked.

  Eden managed to choke on a gulp of air. Darrak slapped her lightly on her back.

  “No,” he replied for her. “But we’re together. So feel free to hit on Leena, but Eden’s off the market, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Lucas’s smile widened. “I think I understand.”

  Eden waited until she reached her car, got in, and started driving before she turned to the demon. She scanned the area to make sure no Malleus members were around but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  “What was that?” she demanded.

  “What?”

  “‘Eden’s off the market’?” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she pulled onto the road. “We’re not together that way, Darrak.”

  “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

  “Oh, boy. You’re delusional, you know that?”

  “He gave you a marble.”

  “So what?”

  He shrugged and fiddled with the radio. “In some cultures, the giving of a marble might mean you’re engaged.”

  “Lucas is right. You are funny.” But she wasn’t smiling. “Listen . . . what happened last night—”

  “Oh, so now you want to talk about it.”

  “I don’t want it to be awkward between us.”

  He reached for her, and she froze, not knowing what to expect. He drew his index finger over the surface of her medium gray amulet before his ice blue eyes flicked to hers.

  “It can’t happen again,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “Then you’re going to have to help me a little bit. Because last night . . . well, let’s just say it was really close. This curse of mine is dangerous. I have to be close to you to survive, but the closer I get, the more I . . .” He swallowed. “Things just aren’t as simple as I’d like them to be.”

  That was true for both of them. Eden tried to concentrate on the road, but then Darrak took her hand in his and kissed it. His lips felt so warm against her skin, and desire swirled inside of her.

  “And that’s helping?” she asked.

  “Probably not.” Then he grinned. “What can I say? I’m a demon.”

  He was. Sometimes it was a bit too easy to forget that.

  TWELVE

  Theo was waiting for them at Opa’s, the Greek restaurant next to Luxuria.

  The demon had ordered a flatbread and hummus appetizer.

  Eden eyed him warily as they approached. His hair was black, even darker than Darrak’s. Darrak’s hair was usually an unruly mess in need of a comb, but the other demon’s hair was sleek and shiny and pulled back at the nape of his neck. He had hooded eyes and an easy smile and skin that looked naturally tanned. He made Eden think of someone who lived in Hawaii and might consider surfing a way of life.

  He was handsome. Then again, she hadn’t expected him to be ugly. Whatever his demon form might look like, it was practically a guarantee that his human form would be appealing. Made him all the more dangerous to unsuspecting prey.

  Therefore, the prospect of having lunch with two attractive demons didn’t exactly ease her mind.

  Theo smiled and stood up as Darrak and Eden reached the table.

  “Darrak,” he said. “Good to see you in one piece again.”

  Eden waited to see a tightness in his expression, something to betray the fact Theo was waiting to shift form and attack both of them. But there was nothing.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have had three coffees at Triple-A that morning as they waited for their appointment with destiny. She was seriously jittery and more on edge than normal.

  Darrak grinned at his friend. “Good to see you, too. This . . . this is Eden.”

  Theo’s black-eyed gaze swept over her. “A pleasure. Please, have a seat. Take a menu.”

  Her arm brushed against a faux Greek pillar. The entire restaurant had a Greek pantheon feel to it. A painting of Zeus on top of Mount Olympus stared down at them from the ceiling.

  Zeus’s eyes were a bit buggy. It only helped to make her feel more paranoid.

  She sat down cautiously next to Darrak, every muscle tense. She didn’t even glance at the menu.

  “I know Darrak met you the other night,” she said. “In my body. So let’s not pretend the reason we’re here is to partake in the chicken souvlaki special, okay?”

  Theo took a sip from the glass of wine in front of him. “She’s direct.”

  “She is,” Darrak confirmed.

  “But very ungrateful.”

  Eden bristled. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “No? Storming in here unpleasantly, not even giving me a smile. And yet, if you’re here, you obviously expect me to help you.”

  He maintained his slightly amused expression. She didn’t appreciate it very much.

  “You’re helping Darrak, not me.”

  “By helping Darrak I am helping you. So try to behave.”

  Wow, that was condescending. A wave of dislike moved through her, bringing with it an edge of magic that she felt at the surface of her skin. Instinctively, she felt threatened by this demon and wanted to protect herself. He wasn’t infused with humanity like Darrak was. He was a threat.

  But . . . he was right. She hated to admit it, but he was. If this demon helped Darrak, it would be helping her as well, wouldn’t it?

  What would Theo think of the fact she was a nephilim?

  She still wasn’t convinced of that. Mild psychic skills were not conclusive enough to make her blindly believe everything Oliver had told her last night.

  One problem at a time, she thought.

  She clasped her hands in front of her on the white tablecloth. “All I’m saying is that Darrak’s your friend, right? So obviously you want to help him. Anything you do for me will be a side effect only.”
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  Theo glanced at Darrak. “Does she win many friends this way?”

  Darrak shrugged. “It’s been a difficult couple of weeks for her. For both of us. She’s normally quite adorable.”

  “I’m sure.” Theo’s lips stretched into a fresh smile. “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant, Eden. I’m the same as Darrak, after all. And you feel comfortable enough with him, don’t you? You can feel the same about me.”

  That was unlikely. She tried to push away any ill feelings or fear or distrust. “If you say so.”

  She took a sip of the water in front of her, hoping Theo hadn’t poisoned it.

  “So . . .” Theo began. “Darrak tells me you’re a black witch.”

  She choked and the water almost came through her nose. “He did?”

  Darrak cleared his throat. “It was relevant at the time.”

  The waitress, dressed in a knee-length toga and a gold laurel in her hair, came to their table. “I should let you know we have lamb gyros on special today. And for dessert, the baklava is extra specially delicious and a dollar off, now until one o’clock. Get it while it’s hot! Have I tantalized your taste buds with Opa’s food—fit for the gods themselves?”

  Darrak had told Theo she was a black witch. She’d seen firsthand what happened when Oliver found out that little fact about her—she’d nearly been killed. And now Darrak was announcing it to every old buddy he came across?

  There would be words.

  “Where’s your restroom?” she asked the waitress, feeling the desperate need to escape and gain control of herself before she allowed her black magic to fry Darrak where he sat.

  The waitress pointed to her left. “Just along that hallway.”

  “Is it less than a hundred feet from here?”

  That earned a frown. “Uh . . . I think so. Why?”

  “Just because.” Eden stood up, shot Darrak a dirty look for broadcasting her secrets, and left the table.

  “I think she might need a little extra Tsatsiki,” Darrak told the waitress tensely from behind her.

  That put it mildly.

  “So she seems like fun,” Theo said dryly.

  “Like I said, it’s been a difficult couple of weeks.”

  “I understand that. But she’s kind of high maintenance, huh?” Theo stared off in the direction Eden had escaped. “I mean, great body, cute face. Long hair I’d love to wrap around my di—”

  Darrak glared at him. “Watch it.”

  “—digits.” Theo held up his right hand and wiggled his fingers. He grinned. “So what is this? Are you gone on her, or something?”

  “Define gone.”

  “Emotionally attached.”

  Darrak shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t know.”

  Theo laughed and downed his glass of wine. “You’re reminding me of what happened with me and Kristina. Also high maintenance. And you remember how that turned out, right?”

  Darrak cringed. “All too well.”

  Kristina had been a human Theo had become involved with in the seventeenth century. He’d been sent to take the young virgin’s soul just as she’d been about to become a nun. Along the way, he’d been trapped by a wizard, and Kristina had rescued him thinking he was an angel sent from God to watch over her.

  Theo was no angel.

  However, he’d fallen in love with her and refused to take her soul. Darrak had thought it humorous and rather pathetic at the time. Theo had changed into a puddle of very humanlike emotion, if only for a brief time. When news reached Lucifer of Theo refusing to follow through with a direct order, he’d sent another demon to finish the job.

  Theo had had a choice—fight the demon and Lucifer’s orders and risk being destroyed, or let Kristina’s soul perish.

  It hadn’t been pretty.

  Theo ultimately chose self-protection. Kristina was destroyed, and her soul was consumed by hellfire. And Theo had become very focused when it came to getting ahead in his career as a demon. He never mentioned Kristina again. Not until now, anyway.

  He might hate Lucifer even more than Darrak did.

  “Feeling anything toward a human is a bad idea,” Theo said. “It’s a risk we take in this business, but one that must be controlled.”

  Darrak’s jaw was tight. “All I feel is pathetically dependent on her in my time of neediness. If I feel anything else, it is because of my curse, and as you said before, it will disappear once we take care of it.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Of course.” It was the truth.

  “Good.” Theo indicated to the waitress that he wanted another drink. “You know, she doesn’t seem like a black witch to me. She’s so . . . uptight. Witches I’ve dealt with are always ready for a party.”

  “Eden’s different.”

  “So I’m gathering.” The waitress returned with two glasses of wine, which she placed in front of either demon.

  Darrak tried not to worry, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy. He wanted to trust Theo, but he had some questions that needed answers.

  “I want to know what the plan is today,” he said. “Where are we going to get this weapon you told me about?”

  “It’s not far from here.”

  Still vague. Deliberately, it seemed. “And you promise this will bring no harm to Eden.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of hurting your delicate little witchypoo.” Theo leaned closer. “What I want to know is if you’re still interested in being a part of my master plan and taking over Hell, starting with Lucifer’s throne?” When Darrak didn’t jump up and down with glee right away, he continued. “Come on. Netherworld dominion. Seven lords. Seven thrones. Two demons with ambition. Sound good?”

  He wouldn’t speak so freely if Lucifer had any chance of hearing. Luckily for everyone involved, the Prince of Hell didn’t come to the human world since he had no power here. His power had been blocked here after his fall from Heaven because of his timeless hatred of humans.

  That was why he needed demons like Darrak and Theo to do his dirty work. The dirtier the better.

  In Hell, Lucifer was all-powerful. But here? Not so much.

  It was the only thing that helped relax Darrak when it came to the subject of his former boss’s demise.

  “Is there a problem?” Theo asked. “You seem . . . distracted.”

  Darrak shook his head. “Something happened last night that I’m having a hard time getting out of my mind. A problem with the Malleus.”

  “The Malleus,” Theo replied distastefully. “What is that human scum up to now?”

  “Eden knows someone . . . he’s a new recruit, apparently. He almost got her killed last night.”

  “And that would be so bad?” At Darrak’s sharp look, Theo laughed. “What’s this do-gooder’s name?”

  “Ben Hanson. He’s a cop, too. Thinks he’s Mr. Perfect.”

  “Somebody sounds jealous.”

  “Oh, I am. Insanely. I could never have hair that perfect and blond. He’s like a Ken doll.”

  Theo blinked and ran his finger over the edge of his wineglass. “Huh?”

  “Barbie’s boyfriend,” Darrak clarified.

  “Still not understanding.”

  “Teenage model.”

  Another blink.

  Darrak sighed. “In any case, I can’t compete.”

  “Why would you even want to?”

  Darrak pushed the menu away from him, feeling anger toward the cop welling up inside of him again. “That son of a bitch is going to make the wrong decision in his quest to fight evil, and it’s going to hurt Eden.” Realizing how that sounded after his claims of disinterest, he clarified, “Which would affect me, of course.”

  Theo leaned back in his chair. “Sounds like an angel to me.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? All self-righteous, squeaky clean, and self-centered.”

  Theo’s expression turned thoughtful. “The best way to deal with an angel is to rip his wings off and enjoy his screams of agony. Remember
that time in Paris during the plague?”

  It had seemed like a fun afternoon at the time when they’d cornered an unsuspecting angel minding his own business. Now, the memory made Darrak cringe. Damn humanity bringing with it an unhealthy dose of guilt. “Good times.”

  “Totally.” Theo downed his second glass of wine. “This Ben guy is only human, right?”

  “He is. But now that he’s with the Malleus, he’s probably all supercharged and ready for a good fight.”

  Theo waved a hand. “An insect waiting to be squashed.”

  “The guy’s a serious pain in my ass. If I was half the demon I used to be, I’d hunt him down and gut him like a fish. That would keep him away, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would indeed.”

  Darrak shook his head to clear it of thoughts of the cop. “Enough about him, let’s get back to your plan. Destruction to Lucifer?”

  “Can I get a hallelujah?”

  Darrak snorted. “Hallelujah.”

  The plan sounded good centuries ago. Even worth risking his very existence for. Power, endless power. The chance to have anything he wanted, whenever he wanted it.

  Lucifer was a bastard. Not literally, of course—much like Darrak, he didn’t have a mother and a father as a human would. He was the original angel cast out of Heaven because his pride refused to allow him to bow at the feet of humans. He’d become the ruler of Hell. The head honcho. The numero uno. The six other lords had nothing on him, power-wise.

  Lucifer was no angel anymore. He was a sadistic, selfish demon who could torture another—demon, human, or angel—with a mere thought.

  He owned Darrak. He’d created him and could destroy him at will. Darrak had worked for him for centuries as an incubus, helping to stock Lucifer’s harem. As the Lord of Pride, he didn’t have a particularly lustful nature. It only occurred to Darrak later that the human souls probably weren’t all meant for sex. Human souls also made for a tasty, high-protein snack for a hungry demon. And the Lords of Hell had very big appetites.

  Beings like Lucifer made archdemons like Darrak in his prime look like big, friendly, fluffy bunnies.

  Despite Darrak’s loyal—if occasionally conspiratorial—service to the Prince of Hell, Lucifer had removed his protection over him at the first sign of disloyalty with Asmodeus. And it hadn’t even been true. Had he not done this, Darrak never would have been summoned by Selina. He wouldn’t have been cursed by her, and he wouldn’t have needed to possess humans for the past three hundred years.