City of Demons (9 page)

The demon who'd lit a cigarette yesterday lunged for me. “Why, you little—”

Peanut Butter caught him. “Don't.”

Another demon took up the cause. “But you heard her! She—”

“Yeah!” interrupted another. “Some succubus slut isn't going to keep me from being a lieutenant in Monaco—”

“Quiet,” snapped Magenta Lips. Silence descended. Her eyes fell on me, and it was like frost spreading along my flesh. Her immortal signature swirled around me, cloying and fetid. Like greenhouse flowers starting to rot. “She's not convinced yet.” Her voice was very calm, very steady.

“I'll convince her,” growled the restrained demon.

The demoness gestured slightly to Weak Chin. “Explain our logic again, please.”

He did. There was an edge of annoyance to his words as he spoke, but otherwise he wound through the whole string of bullshit reasons that they'd contrived yesterday. When he finished, he looked at me expectantly.

Seth, Seth,
my inner voice whispered.
What are you doing?

I trembled as I started to speak. “I—that is—”

The demoness cut me off with a raised palm. “No, don't answer yet. Just think about what we said. Let's break for lunch, and meet back in half an hour.”

I gaped. The others shared my surprise. Lunch? We'd been here for fifteen minutes. But this group, as impatient as they were for me to succumb, also welcomed the opportunity for a break. They scurried out or simply vanished. As they went, I expected someone to hold me back and issue a few threatening words, but none of them did.

I headed downstairs alone, uneasy and perplexed. I didn't feel hungry, but I hadn't eaten all day, so I figured I should at least have coffee and a doughnut. In the elevator, I found Clyde waiting for me.

“Don't talk to me,” I said wearily.

His face was hard. “I've heard what's going on. They're setting us up. Starla and me.”

“Yeah, I kind of know that,” I snapped. “I've had to put up with twelve demons yelling at me over it for two days now.”

“We didn't do it,” he said fiercely.

“I know, I know. No one did it.” God, I wanted to be anywhere else. A warm beach or my bed would have been optimal, but honestly, I wasn't picky at this point.

“You can't let them convict us. It isn't fair.” Fear and desperation hung in his voice, surprising me. He always seemed so tough, like a five-century disembowelment wouldn't faze him at all.

“Fair? Fair?”

We stepped out of the elevator. On the other side of the lobby, I saw Seth about to leave for the day. He'd paused to talk to the concierge and caught my eye. I held up a hand to tell him to hang on, and then I turned back to Clyde.

“I'll tell you what isn't fair,” I said. “You see that guy over there? That's my boyfriend. He has nothing to do with any of this. He just came here to keep me company. But since I decided to take the high ground with your case, those bastards on the jury are threatening to kill him if I don't vote their way.
That's
not fair.”

Clyde's face grew less angry. A sober, grim look took over. “They wouldn't do it.”

“Wouldn't they? And anyway, even if they don't and I still manage to keep up with this nobility, I'm never going to sway them. This'll just keep going. Kurtis's bribes are too good. He offered me . . . well, something I've always wanted. And he apparently promised to make some other demon a lieutenant demon in Monaco. God only knows what else is on the table.”

Clyde snorted. “He's lying then. Kurt's powerful, but he can't do that. You think he'd still be in Belgium if he could pull strings for a Monaco transfer?”

Great. Fake bribes. As if this thing wasn't bad enough.

“Well, even so,” I argued, “that demon on the jury sure believed it. That's all that matters.”

“So . . . you've given up.”

“You act like you're shocked by that!” I exclaimed. “Why is it okay for everyone around here to have black souls, yet somehow
I'm
held up to a higher standard?”

He'd grown solemn again. “Because there's something in you that isn't gone yet. A glimmer of goodness.”

“A glimmer of goodness?”

“Yes. And around here, that means some—”

That's when the chandelier fell without warning.

There was no shaking, no trembling. No sign that it was starting to slip.
Bam!
The same chandelier hanging over the lobby that I'd mocked for cheapness came crashing down and hit the hard floor in a spectacular explosion of glass. Shards of all sizes spread out in a glittering radius throughout the room. Apparently it wasn't plastic after all. It was like watching a production of
Phantom of the Opera
, except with better special effects.

We couldn't suffer any real injuries, but Clyde grabbed my arm instinctively and jerked me back. We stared at the mess, stunned. People were shouting. Somehow, inexplicably, no one had actually been directly under it. It was a miracle—ironic, considering most of the hotel's current guests. The spraying glass had done a fair amount of bodily damage, however, and almost everyone around the lobby had sustained some kind of cut.

Including Seth.

I broke out of Clyde's grasp and tore off across the room, circling around the wreckage. Seth still stood by the concierge's desk. He'd dropped his messenger bag and held a two-inch shard of glass in his hand. Blood coated one end of it, and I saw the complementary slash in his cheek.

“Oh my God,” I gasped. “Are you okay?”

He grimaced. “I think so. Are there any more? It doesn't feel like it.”

Tiny pieces of glass and a fine crystalline powder covered a lot of his clothing, but I saw no more stuck in his skin, fortunately. It was warm out, but undoubtedly out of habit from Seattle, he'd headed out today with a flannel shirt over his Lynda Carter T-Shirt. The long sleeves had protected him, as had the thick fabric.

I studied the cut on his face with dismay, resisting the urge to touch it.

“You should get that looked at.” Clyde had walked up behind me.

Seth shook his head. “It's not going to need stitches or anything. Lots of people worse off than me here.”

“You're so lucky that's all you got,” I breathed, looking around the lobby at others who'd undoubtedly need medical attention. No one seemed to be dead or anything, just scratched up. This whole trip's increasing rate of awfulness was astounding, but Seth being hospitalized because of a falling chandelier would have defied belief. “I can't believe—”

I stopped. My eyes had fallen on four people standing directly opposite me. Four people who hadn't been injured at all. Four demons. Four jurors.

They watched me, malice in their eyes. Magenta-colored lips twitched into a knowing smile. Suddenly . . . suddenly I knew.

I turned back to Seth, my heart turning to lead as I squeezed his hand. Clyde, having noticed what I'd seen, looked at me with widened eyes.

“Georgina—”

I shook my head. “I'm sorry,” I said, meaning it. “But glimmers of goodness really don't mean anything at all.”

Chapter Eleven

Kurtis found me in my room later that day, after the jury had turned in its unanimous vote. He simply appeared out of nowhere. I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling while on TV, Oprah gave away a car to someone in need.

“I can't wait to go home,” I told him nastily. “At least then I'll get some privacy. No one seems to respect it around here.”

He leaned against the desk and tossed his messy hair out of his face. “That's why I brought you these.” He reached into his pocket and produced a set of keys. He threw them over, and I caught them. The keychain's tag had an address on it.

“What are these?” I asked.

“Condo by the beach,” he said. “I snagged it for you. Figured you'd want someplace nicer than this for your big night tonight.”

I closed my eyes and groaned. “No. I don't want it.”

“You earned it. I keep my promises.”

I remembered what Clyde had said about Monaco. “Not all of them. You promise things you can't deliver on.”

He frowned. “No. I keep my promises. All of them.”

I shook my head.
“Whatever. It doesn't matter. I don't want your blood money.”

“You might as well get something for selling out your principles,” he said cheerfully. “Besides, you're never going to get this chance again. And you can save your crumbling romance at the same time.”

“It's not crumbling. Seth told me—er, her, that he couldn't do anything that made him feel guilty about us. We don't need to have sex for me to keep him around.” But oh, good God, did I
want
to have sex. It was hard to lie there and tell Kurtis I was throwing his gift back in his face.

“I don't believe it. If that waitress offered—if he was in a position where he really
could
do it with her—he'd do it. That is, he'd do it if he still wasn't getting any from you.”

“He doesn't believe in cheap sex. Staying faithful to me is part of his morals, and unlike everyone else around here, there are still some people in the universe who hold to their beliefs and actually have a sense of right and wrong.”

Kurtis straightened up. “Sweetheart, everyone sells themselves out in the end. Keep the keys. The reward's still yours, whether you waste it or not. But—be warned. The clock's ticking, Cinderella. Offer expires at midnight. Of course, then you'll be just in time to see the show.”

Ack. There was going to be a public display back at the hotel of Clyde and Starla's first round of punishment. I had no idea what exactly that would be, but it was going to be horrible and disgusting. After that, they'd be sent off to somewhere in Hell for the remainder of the sentence. The spectacle tonight would satisfy the sadistic and sensationalist natures of those who had journeyed to the trial. The perfect encore. I had absolutely no interest in going.

Thinking of that horrific display—as well as Kurtis's smug condescension—suddenly made something inside me snap. It made me sick that he could do this, sick that he could bribe and flatter others into getting whatever he wanted. I jerked myself upright from my defeatist sprawl.

“You don't think he could do that? Resist? Well, here's a deal for you. What if I can prove you're wrong? What if I can prove that Seth really does hold to his standards in the face of temptation?”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“You see?” I said, attempting the same smugness he managed so well. “You
aren't
sure. You're not the great judge of human nature you claim to be.”

Those laughing eyes suddenly hardened. It was never a good idea to mock a demon. “Careful, little succubus. You don't want to go down this road. Take your boon, fuck your guy, and leave it at that.”

I lay back against the pillows. “Okay. I get it.”

“Get what?”

“That you're all talk. You really don't know for sure that Seth would succumb.”

“In the face of that woman half-naked and going after him? Yes, darling. He'd succumb.”

“Then let's bet on it.”

“What do you want?” he asked warily.

“The truth. I want the truth from you about whether you really killed Anthony.”

He shook his head. “I've told you a hundred times I didn't.”

“Yeah, and you promised Julius a house in Monaco.” Kurtis blinked. “I don't believe anything you tell me. When I say I want the truth, I want
the truth
. You know what I'm talking about. I want to see inside you.”

“What's that going to accomplish? Even if you found out I'd done it—and I didn't—it wouldn't hold as evidence.”

“I know. But
I
just want to know, once and for all, the truth about just one thing in this whole tangled mess. Let me look inside. Just to be certain about
something
.”

He stared, actually caught off guard. As I've noted before, to look inside another immortal was no small thing. It was traumatic, for both parties. Powerful. I honestly didn't know the full extent of what I was asking, but I liked the shock on his face, and honestly, after days of deceit, I just wanted something
real
.

“I'm not letting a succubus look inside me.”

“Doesn't matter if the whole thing is a moot point.”

He glowered. “What do I get if you're wrong about him?”

“What do you want?”

He considered, then a slow smile swept over his face. “I want you to fuck him.”

“I—what?” My growing confidence promptly withered into confusion. I jingled the keys. “Isn't that what I'm already supposed to do?”

“No. I mean, fuck him after the gift expires. In all your power. Break that kindly naive notion you have of sparing his life and soul.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. Sex with Seth? With no protective promise? No. No way could I do it. I'd promised myself that the instant this relationship started. I couldn't steal his energy for my own gain, couldn't shave off part of his life to feed my immortality. The thought made me queasy, and Kurtis could see that.

“Guess
you're
not so confident about him after all,” he chuckled.

My heart hardened. I was angry about this trial, furious about what I'd been forced to do. And I was pissed as hell at Kurtis and his high-handed, arrogant attitude. Just once, I wanted to make some demon uncomfortable.

“It's a deal,” I said.

“Really?”

I sat up. “Yup. Let's work out the details.”

You couldn't ever make an open-ended or vague deal with a demon. Otherwise, they'd find any loophole possible to wiggle out of their end. So, Kurtis and I hashed out exactly what would be required to win the bet, what I'd have to do, and how each of us would have to pay up. By the time I was done, I felt like I'd done a pretty good job at covering all the contingencies. Probably not as good as if I'd had an imp present . . . but I felt certain it would suffice.

When we finished, Kurtis and I shook hands. Power crackled around us, sealing the deal. He vanished.

I climbed out of bed then and glanced at the clock to see how much longer I had succubus freedom.

It was time to go seduce my boyfriend.

* * *

The cold insanity of what I was going to do hit me a little while later. I was a total hypocrite. I'd made all these claims about the honesty and goodness between Seth and me, yet here I was about to entangle him up in a web of trickery which involved me deceiving him in order to test his fidelity—fidelity, by the way, which he wasn't even really forced to adhere to.

But I'd made my deal with Kurtis, and now I was in. So, I tried not to dwell on my guilt and instead attempted to focus in on how I would win this bet. After all, if I did, almost everything else would become irrelevant. Seth would prove faithful, I wouldn't have to sleep with him (how wrong did
that
sound?), and Kurtis would have to suck it up and do something he didn't want.

Still, I felt kind of bad blowing off Seth for the night. To make matters worse, I even did it a little coldly. I wasn't mean or anything, but I was definitely brusque with him in the hopes that my attitude would make him accept another Beth invitation.

It did. Of course, who could say? Maybe he still would have accepted if I'd been perfectly nice. Regardless, after “Georgina” took off for another party, “Beth” called Seth with an offer to come watch a movie we'd talked about at the carnival.

“Look,” I said on the phone, “if it's too weird . . . I understand. I mean, I got what you were saying last night, and really . . . I don't want to cause trouble for you or anything. I mean you and your girlfriend probably already have plans, but I thought I'd check since my roommate actually just rented it . . .”

There was a long pause, and I could perfectly picture the look on Seth's face. “I don't have any plans . . .” More silence. I held my breath. “Okay. What's the address?”

I gave it to him, rented the movie, and got to the condo ten minutes before he did. That turned out to be a good thing because it took me about that long to recover from the shock of the place. Maybe Kurtis hadn't been bullshitting. When he delivered on his promises, he
delivered
. The condo had two floors and sat right on the edge of a stretch of gorgeous, private beach. Wood floors and leather furniture gave the place a swanky, sexy feel, and a fully stocked bar completed the image of a pimped-out bachelor pad—or in my case, bachelorette pad.

Of course, I realized the problem right as I let Seth inside. He stared around at the luxurious accommodations, at the six-figure sculptures and teak end tables.

“I thought you were short on money?” he asked in amazement.

“Er, I am,” I replied. “This is my roommate's . . . place. Her family pays for it, and I rent a room from her.” I didn't add that that room would technically have to be the bathroom since there was only one bedroom in the place. I had checked it out in my initial examination. The room had a round bed and mirrors on the ceiling. Honestly, Kurtis might have been trying too hard.

Seth looked a little skeptical, but I distracted him by asking about the cut on his face. Later, I found popcorn and tea in the fully stocked kitchen, and we settled down on one of the sleek black sofas to watch the movie. It was an independent film I'd seen several years ago and thought was amazing. I'd wanted him to see it for a while now; I never thought it'd be under these circumstances.

As we watched, I covertly maneuvered myself nearer and nearer to him. I used reaching for the popcorn as my excuse and pulled off the moves like a pro—because, well, I was a pro. Eyes on the screen, he didn't even realize what I'd done until the lights came up and we were sitting thigh to thigh and arm to arm. We weren't exactly groping, but we'd clearly moved past something platonic.

Seth noticed then, and he shifted himself away a little—but not too far away.

“What'd you think?” I asked.

He leaned his head back against the couch. Those long-lashed, amber-brown eyes stared off thoughtfully as he processed his opinions. In some ways, it wasn't hard playing Beth. Seth made both of us melt.

“Pretentious,” he finally said. “But it had some good points.”

“Pretentious?” I exclaimed.

We launched off into a critical analysis of the movie, very much like the ones we usually got into. I became so consumed that I didn't even notice the time passing until my eyes ran over the clock on the DVD player. Ten-twenty-seven.

I hastily wrapped up the movie discussion, even conceding a few points to him. Moving on to the next stage, I brought us into personal matters.

“I'm really glad you could come over tonight,” I told him, leaning against the couch in a way that made the space between us more intimate. “I was really afraid to call after last night . . . I mean, not that it was bad . . . but well . . .”

“Yeah, I know. But I'm glad you did call. Nothing else was going on.”

Seth's eyes studied me in an appraising way. Then, as though realizing what he was doing, he averted them in a way common to him.

“You keep saying you've got a girlfriend,” I teased, “but I'm starting to wonder if that's just a line to keep me away. You always seem to be free.”

He flinched, undoubtedly reminded of the way I'd abandoned him tonight.

“Oh, she's real . . . mostly. She's just been really, um, busy.”

“Is she, like, working tonight?”

His brow furrowed slightly. “She might very well be,” he muttered in a dry tone.

“What's she do?” I asked innocently.

“Um . . . she's in . . . customer service . . .”

“Wow. I didn't know jobs like that ran so late.”

“Well, it's a conference kind of thing . . .”

“Oh, yeah. That's right. So, she's, like, schmoozing. Like . . . working the room?”

“Something like that.”

“Why aren't you with her? Seems like you could go to parties with her, even at a work function.”

“I'm not much of a party type,” he said. “Especially these parties.”

I tilted my head and met his eyes with a knowing look. “Is that really the truth?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know. With the way you keep seeing me . . . and the way you talk. It just kind of sounds like you're avoiding her.”

“Er, no, no,” he said. “It's not that . . .”