City of Demons (10 page)

“But you said you have kinks. Maybe you're avoiding her and don't realize you're avoiding her.”

“No, I don't think so . . .”

“Oh? Well, then, what are these kinks? You guys have trouble talking to each other? Not much in common?”

“Nothing like that,” he assured me. “We have lots in common.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Sex?”

His mouth opened to form a protest, but he stumbled on it.

“Ah,” I said sagely. “I see.”

“No,” he said firmly. “It's not what you think . . .”

I studied him—face and body—and made it very obvious that I was doing so. I nodded with appreciation, liking what I saw.

“Well,” I finally said. “It must be on her end. Nothing wrong with you. And here I'd had this image of this slim, gorgeous model with great genes.”

“She
is
gorgeous,” said Seth. I was happy to see him come to my defense.

I frowned. “Then . . . wait. Do
you
, like, have problems . . .”

The faintest flush showed in Seth's cheeks. It was a rare phenomenon, one I would have found adorable under other conditions.

“No,” he said. “No problems like that.”

“Then . . . will she not . . . ?”

Again, he took too long to answer.

“Oh,” I said.

Silence fell. I could hear the ticking of a shiny, silver-rimmed clock on the wall. Eleven-oh-seven.

At last, I spoke. “I don't want to be harsh here or overstep my limits . . . but well, she's an idiot.”

He shook his head. “It's complicated.”

“Is it? I mean, you say you guys have stuff in common. You're gorgeous. She allegedly is. You want to do it . . . I mean, if she's got some hang-up . . .”

“It's not that, not exactly.”

I sighed. “Look, I won't lie. I like you. I
really
like you. But even if I wasn't interested in you like this, I'd still be telling you you're crazy. You shouldn't waste your life on someone like that, shouldn't waste your sex life . . .”

Again, he shook his head. “It's about more than sex.”

I shifted closer and put my hand on his bare arm, trailing my fingers along his skin. He jumped but didn't stop me.

“When was the last time?” I asked.

“The last time what?”

“You know.”

No answer.

“Seth,” I said in exasperation, still touching him. “This is crazy. Do you hear yourself? You make it sound like you can go without sex for the rest of your life. Can you? Can you go without being kissed? Can you go without having someone's hands slide up your chest? Can you go without touching a woman? Can you go without throwing her down and peeling her clothes off? Can you go without being wrapped up with—
in
—another person? Having that union? That passion?”

Seth was staring at me like he had no clue who I was. That was reasonable since I was pretty sure I'd slipped out of Beth's personality and into my own. At the same time, I think my words and the lust in my voice had kindled something in him. I could see it in his face—a doubt over what he'd been trying so hard to believe all this time and a yearning for what he'd wanted.

That was all I needed to see. I made my move.

Pushing myself over him, so a leg draped over his lap, I kissed him. In the fraction of a second before our lips touched, I realized it was fully possible Kurtis had screwed with me this whole time and that I was about to suck away part of Seth's life.

But I didn't.

There was no rush of power, no flow of his thoughts or energy into me. It was just a kiss, an ordinary kiss like any two mortals might have. Well . . . except that it wasn't ordinary. Not for me at least. It was
Seth
. Me kissing Seth. And so help me, he was kissing me—Beth—back. His lips were as warm and soft as they'd been every other time we'd had our brief kisses, but this time we didn't pull back. It was ... amazing. And that was when I learned that whatever shyness Seth might show in conversation did
not
translate to physical actions.

He returned the kiss with intensity, lips and tongue caressing my own, filled with an untamed energy that just barely managed to keep control. I pulled myself completely onto his lap, straddling him, and wrapped my arms around his neck. His own arms encircled my waist.

“How long?” I asked between kisses, my voice breathy. “How long since anyone's kissed you like this? Been on you like this?”

He didn't answer, but the hands on the small of my back caught the edge of my shirt and lifted it over my head. I'd dressed casual tonight—plain black T-shirt—but the bra underneath was red, and the hourglass figure made it look great.

I yanked his own shirt off and felt the heat in my own body increase as I took in the smooth, lightly tanned skin of his chest. I'd seen it many times, of course, but now—being able to kiss it and
really
touch it—I looked at in a totally different way. I leaned in and kissed him harder, pressing my breasts up to his chest. His hands were on my back again, but when they didn't unfasten my bra, I did the honors.

I saw his gaze travel from my face to my breasts, instinctual male desire filling his face. Pushing him over, I forced him to lie back as I crawled on top and continued straddling him. My hands found the edge of his jeans and unbuttoned them. Then, I took a hold of his hands and placed them on my stomach.

“Don't you want me?” I asked. “Don't you want to touch me?”

I didn't know who exactly I was speaking for anymore, Beth or Georgina, but it didn't matter. I'd forgotten the whole reason for this. All I knew was that we were going to do it. Seth and I were going to have sex. I had about forty-five minutes—forty-five precious, golden minutes—in which we could do anything we wanted with no consequences.

And what
I
wanted right now was for Seth to run his hands over me. He wasn't, though I could still see the longing all over him. And when I laid down on top of him and ground our hips together, I could
feel
the longing. I kissed him again, furiously, and then pulled my mouth back just a breath so that I could speak.

“We're going to do this . . . and it's going to be good. Very good. You . . . inside me. Good, so very—what?”

Seth suddenly struggled up, pushing me—not harshly—off of him. Once he was free, he stood up and backed away from the couch. He ran a hand over his eyes.

“Oh, God. I can't believe this is happening.”

“It's happening,” I told him, practically panting. “Come back—”

“No.” He shook his head. “I can't.”

“But you—you started to—”

“I know, I know,” he groaned. He buttoned his pants. “I got caught up.”

“You wanted me,” I growled. “You still do.” I stood up too and wriggled out of the jeans I wore, pulling my panties off in the process. Standing before him naked, I fixed him with a challenging glare. “Tell me you don't. Tell me you don't want to have sex with me.”

Those serious brown eyes swept the length of me, of all my curves and smooth skin. The desire was still written all over him, but a hard glint in the depths of his eyes showed he was fighting it. The flesh was willing, but the spirit was weak—or rather, the spirit was strong.

“I'm sorry,” he said, reaching for his shirt. “You're very beautiful.
Very
beautiful. And hanging out with you is fun. There's something about you—it's almost like—well.” He shrugged the thought away, though I had a good feeling what it had been. “But I can't. I can't do this. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here tonight.”

“But . . .” My lower lip trembled as I attempted confusion while still looking sexy. “She won't . . . she won't give you what you want . . .”

“I want
her
. I want to be with her.”

“You can still have her,” I argued. “And tonight you can have me. Then you can go back, and she'll never know. She probably wouldn't even mind.”

“
I
would know,” he said. He pulled the T-shirt on and smoothed it. “That's what matters.”

“I don't . . . I don't understand . . . there are no strings attached. . .”

“I love her,” he told me, moving toward the door. “I can't explain it any better than that. I'm sorry.” He turned away. The door opened, then closed.

I stood there in the living room, naked, staring at where he'd last been. Kurtis materialized beside me.

“Well, well,” he said, following my gaze to the door.

“Was I convincing enough?” I asked. Part of the conditions had been that I couldn't do a half-ass seduction job.

“Very,” he said wryly. “So much so that I'm guessing there wasn't actually a lot of acting going on.”

I tore my gaze from the door and looked at the demon. Clothing and my Georgina shape materialized onto me. “But he did it. He resisted and held to his beliefs.”

Kurtis smiled. “Disappointed?”

I thought about it, thought how it had felt—however briefly—to have complete access to Seth. The possibility of actually having sex was tantalizing and bittersweet. Of course, if we'd done it, it wouldn't have really been
me
and Seth. It would have been him and . . . an illusion. That wasn't how I wanted sex to be with us.

“A little,” I answered. “But not enough.” I sighed. “This was stupid of me. Testing him like that. I never doubted him . . . not really. I don't know why I had to prove it.”

“People do stupid things for love,” he told me. I'd said the exact same thing to Starla. “They do stupider things when they're jealous.”

“What are you, a shrink?”

“Just an observer of humankind.”

I sighed again. “I wasted a once-in-a-lifetime chance tonight.”

He cut me a look, and I noticed then how agitated he appeared. “Maybe not.”

I glanced back. “What do you mean?”

“I told you, I always keep my promises.” With a resigned sigh, he extended his hand. “Ready to look inside?”

Chapter Twelve

I jerked back, suddenly uncertain. This whole bet, just to satisfy my curiosity over whether or not Kurtis really had killed Anthony, had paled somewhat in my eyes. I'd proven he was wrong about Seth . . . but what did that really matter when compared to how stupid I'd been in the first place about Seth?

Kurtis' eyes widened. “What's this? Cold feet? After everything you went through?” He shook his head, amused. “What is it with you? Don't you accept any rewards?”

“I don't know . . . I'm just so . . . I shouldn't have done this tonight . . .”

“Oh, good grief,” he groaned. He was playing lax and silly, but I could see how the idea of me looking inside scared him. “After I braced myself for this all night?” He made a big show of looking at the clock. “Well, decide fast because I don't want to miss the main event.”

My anger kindled once more at being reminded of poor Starla and Clyde meeting a potentially undeserved fate. “Okay. Let's do this.”

He attempted his cocky smile, but I could see the sweat on his neck and along his hair. His pupils were large. Wow. He was afraid. Really afraid. I wondered if I should be too. Closing his eyes, he held out his hand again. I grabbed hold of it and . . .

I was in.

I was in a place of white light, dizzying and blinding. It was filled with something—something I simply couldn't perceive. It was like a blind person staring at the color red. I could not comprehend what I was missing because it appealed to a sense I didn't have. In a flash, that surreal moment was over, and I stood on familiar territory, with sights and sounds I could comprehend.

I was on a battlefield at night, mud and bodies lit by a full moon and a star-clustered sky that had never seen city lights. Scraps of fighting still lingered around me, on the periphery of the battlefield. Groans of the dying filled the air. I looked around, disgusted.

Then I was in a city, an ancient city I didn't recognize, a city that had existed ages before my mortal life. I watched the town's life unfold, watched as the tyrant who ruled it trampled the citizens and abused them for their labor, denying them food and life when it was convenient. In the end, it didn't matter because a raiding army eventually came and destroyed the town, killing, raping, and enslaving its residents.

Scene after horrible scene flew past me in fast-forward. It was like the proverbial life flashing before your eyes. Humanity suffered, and I watched it through Kurtis' eyes, felt his pain and frustration, until finally he couldn't take it anymore. Then the white screen was back, the whiteness that meant nothing to me and everything to him. He tore it asunder, and it was like tearing himself in half. Then, there was no more light, only blackness and a hole in his soul.

After that, Kurtis' demonic career unfolded before my eyes, and I watched him commit atrocity after atrocity—some worse than the ones he'd broken with Heaven over— simply because he didn't care anymore. I felt his pain, felt his emptiness, felt his apathy. The events blinked past me in seconds, an abridged version of a timeless life.

I saw his time with Anthony, saw the tortures that had been described in the courtroom. And as the present tumbled forward, I felt Kurtis' anger toward his former employee cool—and I felt his surprise when other demons hauled him off to the trial. I felt his frustration and fear, his desperate attempts to lobby and bribe for his innocence. His relief when Clyde and Starla took the fall.

And then, it was all over, and we were standing together in the condo.

Kurtis hadn't killed Anthony. He'd been telling the truth.

I broke contact and reeled from what I'd seen. I understood then why this wasn't done very often, even to prove a point. It was enough to live with the power of your own soul—or, in my case, of your leased soul—but to experience the emotion and intensity of another's was too much. The fact that I was a lesser immortal viewing a higher immortal made it that much more powerful.

I staggered backward and fell to my knees, arms wrapped around me. Kurtis grabbed an exquisite blue glass bowl, veined in gold, and held it to me.

“You gonna be sick?”

It certainly felt that way. I leaned over, feeling the bile rise in my throat as I squeezed my eyes shut. The room spun. I carried a lot of pain with me, almost a millennium and a half's worth. But I knew then, knew without a doubt that it was nothing compared to the scope of what angels and demons went through. Even the shadow of what he felt was wreaking havoc with me.

Swallowing, I pushed the nausea down and looked back up at Kurtis. His long face was serious, his eyes infinite and knowing, even as he shuddered and tried to master his own reaction. The experience had been rough on him too. Rougher.

Looking away, I breathed a grateful sigh that the sensations were already fading, that horrible loss of an angel who'd turned his back on Heaven because he was angry at the way the powers-that-be let humanity suffer.

“I'm sorry,” I gasped out.

“For what?” he asked, a sardonic smile on his lips. There was a tight set to his face that said even if he had a chipper persona, he would still feel the effects of me reading him for some time.

“I don't know.” I could have been apologizing for anything. For making him open up. For what he'd given up in anger millennia ago. For what he'd had to do in the intervening time. For being accused of a crime he didn't commit.

Kurtis seemed to understand. He set the bowl down and helped me up, even though he was a bit unsteady himself. “Will you be all right?”

“I think so.”

“Look at that,” he told me. “Eleven-thirty. You have time to go back to your guy.”

He was right. I had thirty minutes, thirty minutes in which to go back to Seth as myself and share a few precious moments with no treachery or subterfuge. Now that I knew Kurtis was innocent, the sting of his bribe had faded.

Suddenly, I frowned. The memories of looking in his head were disappearing rapidly, but while inside of him, I'd seen the events of the trial through his eyes. I'd seen him approaching other jurors, making his offers.

“Monaco,” I exclaimed.

“What?”

“You didn't offer Monaco.”

He tilted his head and studied me. “You might have gotten hit harder than I thought.”

“No! When you offered people bribes, you didn't offer to transfer that guy to Monaco. Clyde said you didn't have the power.”

“Of course not,” snorted Kurtis. “You think I'd be in Belgium if I could arrange that?”

“Who did then? Who offered bribes to acquit you and convict Clyde and Starla? Someone else was working with you. But, I mean, not
with
you.” I could say that with some conviction because I knew for sure now he'd had no ally that he'd been aware of.

Kurtis frowned, face lost in thought, then it cleared. “Noelle.”

“She's powerful enough?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Makes sense too. There wasn't enough evidence to have a clear decision, so she pushed for a quick ending and got her cathartic revenge. Punished two people who were pissing her off in the process. Very neat. Nice way to do it if you can't nail the right suspect.”

It made sense. Starla and Luis had confirmed the same ideas. And yet . . . something wasn't making sense . . .

I blinked. “That's because the right suspect wasn't up there.”

Kurtis' face registered mild surprise. “Oh?”

“It was Noelle. Noelle killed Anthony.”

“Her own employee?” he scoffed. “Not likely. Especially since, as his supervisor, she could legally inflict any number of punishments.” He grinned. “I of all people know the loopholes there. Besides, she had the hots for Anthony.”

“So did Starla. A lot more than the hots, actually. Yet everyone thinks casting her as a murderer makes sense.”

“Okay, you get points for that, but what else have you got, Sherlock? You can't just go accuse a major archdemon of murder.” He made a face. “Unless it's one who's been sentenced to Belgium.”

Scraps of conversation from the last few days began fitting together in my head. “Noelle was jealous of Anthony and Starla. He'd refused her advances, and it must have driven Noelle crazy that he preferred a new, weak demoness over her. She tried to split them up, right? Said it was interfering with his work. And that's when he lashed back. Starla told me how he wanted to transfer. Probably figured he could still date or whatever Starla without work problems. But Noelle said she was going to fight it—she didn't want to lose him. She loved him. And they had this huge, horrible blowout that made them both really mad. Clyde passed Anthony on his way out, and Anthony was furious. Then Clyde talked to Noelle, and she was livid too.”

“So she kills Anthony over an argument?”

“No,” I said. “Well, yes. More than that. The argument was the culmination of a lot of things. His rejection of her. The fact that she was likely going to lose him. Remember Margo's comment? ‘If I can't have him . . .' That was Noelle's line of thinking.”

Kurtis let out a low whistle. “That's quite a theory, little one. And a lot of circumstantial evidence.”

“It's why she's been so angry over all this. It's not revenge. It's anger at herself for what she did—and fear to close this up fast and cover her own tracks. That's also why she didn't push to look inside any of you guys. She made it sound like she didn't want to violate you, but really, it was because she knew you'd all be proven innocent.”

“Well, you've made some good leaps, I'll give you that.” He pointed at the clock. Twenty minutes until midnight. “But there's nothing to be done for it, even if it's true. It's almost time. That group's in a frenzy by now, waiting for the torture. They're probably selling balloons and hot dogs. No one's going to listen.”

I stared blankly at the window. “Luis would.”

“
Maybe
he would.” When I didn't answer, Kurtis laid an almost friendly hand on my shoulder. “Look, you really might be on to something, but it's too late. You're burning up time. At the very least, get in one kiss with your guy. Chase after this theory, and you blow any moment you have with him.”

Kurtis was right. And I had already blown most of what time I could have had with Seth. I'd wasted it in the guise of another woman. But if I acted soon, I could have him now as me. I could have him, and Starla and Clyde would suffer. I'd noted before that they'd probably committed enough other crimes to deserve punishment, but it occurred to me that like Kurtis, they might have initially fallen from grace for more than just selfish reasons.

I looked up and met Kurtis' penetrating gaze. “Will you transport me back to the hotel?”

* * *

He was right about the spectacle. The ballroom-turned-conference-room was packed. The whole gang was there from the first day: imps, vampires, incubi, and demons. Kurtis and I pushed our way through the excited crowd. People slapped him on the back in congratulations as we passed. They made lewd comments to me.

Near the front of the room, a demon in black sharpened long, bladed instruments. Near him stood Starla and Clyde. The two “guilty” demons didn't move, though no visible bonds held them. They were frozen, trapped through some magical means. I averted my eyes from them.

“Help me,” I told Kurtis. “Help me find Luis.”

It was an impossible task. There were too many bodies mingling and moving. Luis was a big guy. I'd hoped I might find him simply by virtue of him being taller than others, but that seemed unlikely now.

Kurtis stopped walking. “He's not here.”

I stopped too, nearly running into an annoyed vampire. “How do you know?”

“He's one of the strongest here, stronger even than Noelle. If he were in this room, we'd feel him, even above all this.”

He was right, I realized. We fought our way back out. Once outside, Kurtis stood and looked around like a hound sniffing the wind. “Got him.”

We found Luis sitting in the bar, stirring his bourbon over ice. He appeared to be the only one of the demonic congregation who wasn't in the other room making balloon animals or getting face tattoos. Feeling us enter, he looked up in surprise.

“You have to help us,” I said. Immediately, I sat down and spilled the whole story, laying out the evidence—circumstantial though it was—about why I believed Noelle was the killer.

Luis listened with an unreadable face. When I finished, he pretty much said the same thing Kurtis had. “There's no way to prove it.”

“But it makes sense! Luis, they're five minutes away from punishing the wrong people.”

“Georgina.” Luis sighed. “Unfair things happen every day in the universe whether you live on Earth, in Heaven, or in Hell. If you're right, it's unfortunate, but well . . . that's that.”

“I thought you wanted the truth,” I accused.

“Then I have it. Your idea makes sense. Noelle did it.”

“But it's not justice!”

“I didn't come for justice.” He gave me a kind, sad smile. “I'm not the one with ‘an annoying yet adorable sense of right and wrong.'”

“I don't believe that! You must still have
something
.”

“Look, I'm not happy that Noelle could get away with this, but it's too late. And this isn't a Christmas special where I suddenly see the error of my ways. I'm a fucking demon. I spread evil in the world. I
am
evil.”

I figured fighting that would just get me accused of more cheery good will. And honestly, I did believe Luis still had a sense of right and wrong . . . but if his life had been like Kurtis', he had good reason for apathy.