She stepped into the elevator and tugged at her gray pencil skirt with fingers beringed in lapis lazuli (for truth), amethyst (for grounding and balance) and bloodstone (for healing). The elevator moved laboriously up two floors. Shed left her reading glasses on, and she now tucked them into her purse. They were fabulous cats-eye frames bespangled with rhinestones at the corners of each eye. She was into the rockabilly look and was pleased it was actually making a style comeback with the humans. Easier to fit in when she resembled others.
On the other hand, she never wanted to conform. That was for uninteresting people who didnt know themselves.
Once out of the elevator, she nodded goodbye to the hirsute night guard, who she suspected was a werewolf, but he never seemed to want to converse, barely looking up from his handheld television as she passed and never offering a vocal au revoir or even a confirming nod.
Ah well, she couldnt befriend them all. And he was a shapeshifter, so yeah, nix that.
Located on the Right Bank in the 11th arrondissement, the Council headquarters opened into a dreary alleyway that was far from parking or any Métro station. Out of the way and unassuming. Tamatha could do without the ten-minute walk to the closest subway. She lived across the river in the 6th, near the Luxembourg Gardens. It was a fine walk on a sunny day, when she remembered to bring along walking flats. Not tonight, though, with the promise of rain thickening the air.
Muttering the words to the demon binding spell, she delighted in how easily she remembered things like Latin spells or even long ingredient lists for poultices and charms. If only her luck with men could be so simple and long lasting.
The curious thing about the family curse was that no one was really sure how it had originated, nor had anyone tried to vanquish it. Sure, the Bellerose women were independent and much preferred lovers to a more permanent husband. But Tamatha had already had her share of lost lovers since shed started dating in her late teens in the 1930s. She was ready for some permanence. For a good old-fashioned love affair that might result in something more promising than death to the male party.
Warm summer raindrops spattered her cheek and she picked up into a sort-of run. The fastest she could manage in four-inch heels and with a tight skirt was a penguin waddle.
Touching her middle fingers together to ask for a rain-parting spell, she dodged left into a cobblestoned alleyway she knew was sheltered with close-spaced roof ledgesand she ran right into a man. He had been walking swiftly as well, and when they collided he let out an ouff and gripped her by the shoulders.
The first thing Tamatha noticed in the moon-shielded darkness was the glint of something shiny and black at his temples, beneath the hairline, and the barest scent of sulfur. Demon? A brief red glow ignited in his eyes.
She reacted. Scatura, demonicus, vold!
Wait
It was too late for his protest. The man dropped her, his arms slapping to his sides and his body going rigid. He wore half gloves on his hands, and his exposed fingers crooked into ridged claws. His feet stiffened within his boots and he teetered, falling backward, his shoulders and head hitting the brick wall of the building but a foot behind him.
His eyes glowed red and he growled at her through tight jaws. Witch!
Chapter 2
Edamite Thrash had been minding his own business, racing against the rain to get home, when he collided with a deliciously scented female with skin like ivory, hair the color of silvered snow and wide green eyes. It was as if entering another realm when hed touched her and she had surrounded him with citrus, sensuality and softness, and then
Damn it. He couldnt move his limbs. And his veins felt as if ice flowed through them. The chill was moving down his thighs and toward his calves. Every muscle strung tightly. The witch had bound him.
Get this...off me, he hissed, thankful he could still speak. Though he clenched his jaw tighter. And his body leaned against the wall. How soon before his boots would slide on the wet pavement and he toppled? Damn you! Witch!
Oh my goddess, it really worked! she said with more enthusiasm than he thought appropriate.
The witch peered into his eyes as if looking for something shed lost. Even in the darkness her giddy thrill showed in the gemstone gleam of her gaze. Stepping back, she looked him up and down. From the top of his slicked-back black hair, down his black suit and trousers, to his leather boots. Ed had never felt more humiliated. So inadequate. If he could lift a hand he would make her regret it. In his trouser pocket he felt his mobile phone vibrate. No one would call him at his private number unless it was important.
Ive always wanted to bind a demon, she offered with a gleeful clasp of hands before her. Many crystal rings flashed in the moonlight and he noted the small tattoos on the midjoints of each of her fingers. Sigils of some sort. Nasty witch business, no doubt. And I did it!
Against my will, he snarled. Take this binding...off me, or... To make the sounds leave his mouth was a monumental task. I will kill you, witch!
Her happiness flattened to curious concern as she tilted her head and tapped her lower lip. A plump pink lip that looked all too tempting even in his bound, defenseless state.
What was he thinking? Witches were disgusting.
You actually think that threatening to kill me will convince me to release you? she prompted.
Probably not. But hed been speaking reactively not rationally.
Fine. Please, witch Oh, how he hated to condescend to her sort.
My name is Tamatha. She offered her hand to shake, and when he could but look at it, a pitiful statue tilted against the wall, she dropped her hand. Sorry. My bad. I learned the demon binding spell this evening. Must be the full moon. Its magical, isnt it?
Ed inhaled a deep breath to calm his anger. He had to do something if he was going to talk his way out of this one. How about I promise not to harm a hair on your witchy head if you remove the binding? I mean, what are you going to do with a stiff demon anyway?
Her lips curled to an expectant smirk, and her eyes brightened as they strolled down the front of his torso to just there.
And Ed realized what hed said. Really? Her mind went there? Well, he could entertain a few lascivious thoughts about those lips No! This situation was embarrassing and ridiculous. And never would he entertain anything with a witch. Been there, done that. Learned his lesson well.
Please, Tamatha? Right, appeal to her personally. Befriend the enemy.
Before I release the binding, tell me your name, she entreated, and what breed of demon you are. Im studying diabology. Im very interested in your species.
Yikes. The woman was some kind of fangirl. That creeped him out. Just his luck with women, though. They either wanted to marvel over his oddities or run screaming from them.
If I give you my name, youve control over me, he said tightly. His jaw muscles felt like stretched iron. Not going to happen.
Oh, but I Oh, yes, I see what you mean. Witches can control demons with their full names. Could you maybe tell me what kind of demon you are? Ill release you then. Cross my heart.
The gesture of crossing her heart disturbed Ed. He would have flinched if he wasnt bound. Hed once been told about the witchs crossed heart but couldnt recall what it meant. A wicked gesture with malefic intent?
He didnt want to give her anything, but her knowing his breed wasnt going to hurt him any more than this wicked chill icing his veins. Corax demon, he said. And then, to keep it light and perhaps her mood light as well, he offered, Such fortune that I run into a witch who is practicing her spells this ugly moonlit night.
Oh, its not ugly out. You think it is? Rain is cleansing and it washes away the icky city smells.
What I think is that we are done conversing. The cold. It took all his effort to curl his fingers upward into an ineffectual claw. Its icing in my veins.
Oh! Really? That must be a side effect of the spell. Yes, I think I recall the binding, if left on too long, will paralyze. There was also the side effect of chilblains, headaches and possible extended, er Her eyes dropped to his crotch again.
Ed gritted his jaws. Really? His cock was hard, now he noticed. Even more humiliation. Gorgeous as she was, this chick was one wacky witch. Who smelled like something he wanted to bury his nose in and suck down wholedamn it!
Vold, demonicis, scaratus, she recited.
With but a sweep of her hand before his chest, the chill exited Eds veins downward, seeming to sluice out the soles of his boots. His shoulders relaxed, as did his legs. He started to go down. The witch reached to help him, and in her sudden panic, she grabbed him by the head. Her palms slapped warmly against his temples. The horn nubs that jutted up but millimeters through his hair heated and glowed beneath her touch.
He never let anyone touch his horns. Mercy, but that felt too good. The contact provided enough energy transfer to allow him to straighten his legs and catch himself before sprawling on the ground.
Coming upright before her, he matched her height, which was a surprise, but then he decided she must have been wearing high heels. Excellent. That would make it difficult for her to run when he strangled her.
Ed gripped her by the neck, squeezing as hard as his anger would allow him to squeeze, and
* * *
The demon kissed her.
When Tamatha had expected him to hit her, to bruise her with his terrible clutch about her neck in retaliation for the binding shed put on him, he instead...kissed her.
And he was still kissing her.
Her pink leather shoe heels backed up against the brick wall and she wobbled, but he caught her about the waist with a sure and guiding hand, not breaking the incredible, shockingly hot kiss.
This kiss was the furthest thing from retaliation. So she surrendered to the weird moment and even forgot about the rain spell, reveling in the spill of warm summer rain down her neck and cheeks.
This man kissed her as if he knew her. Had tasted her lips before. His mouth was firm and demanding, intent. Nothing about him being a demon repelled her. Everything about him made her want to get closer, dive deeper and seek his insides. To study him for more reason than that he was demon. If she could run her hands over his skin, she would. She must.
She dropped her shoulder bag and pushed her hands over his shoulders and teased the short, dark hair at the back of his neck, gripping it to hold him at her mouth. And then she glided up the back of his scalp and forward. Her forefingers glanced over the adamant growths at his temples she suspected were horns. Interesting. And he answered her greedy coax by dashing his tongue against hers and daring her to meet him as he deepened the kiss. Which she did.
The sulfur shed originally scented was no longer noticeable. The crisp, cool tang of his aftershave filled her senses with ice and cedar. She would never forget this mans scent.
What was his name? Sure, she could control him with his name, but she wouldnt. Maybe. The binding had been an unintended reaction. But what joy that it had worked! Of course, then he had called her a witch with such vitriol she had tasted his hatred for her as if it were acid on her tongue.
If he would stop kissing her she could step back and be wary.
On the other hand, right now, lack of wariness suited her fine.
He muttered an appreciative moan against her mouth, and then as suddenly as hed kissed her, he pulled away and wiped his lips. Wha? He winced and shook his head. What the hell? Why did I...? I did not just kiss a witch.
Uh, yes, you did. And it was awesome.
Not awesome. No! Witches are...vile. Again he wiped his lips, and Tamatha cringed. He admonished her with a wagging finger before her face. You made me do that.
No, I
He snapped his fingers, abruptly cutting her off as if she were a child being scolded by a rude teacher. If you want to keep breathing, stay away from me, witch.
And he stalked off, glancing over his shoulder at her once. He slapped his hand against a thigh, tugging a phone out of his pocket, and stomped away.
Tamatha offered a wave. Silly. And stupid. Hed been offended by kissing her? She hadnt made him do a thing. Hed wanted to kiss her.
Vile?
Not so pleased about kissing you, either, she muttered.
But she couldnt quite bring herself to wipe off his kiss. Instead, she tapped her mouth and decided to stick with the good memory of his demanding and sensual lips against hers.
I kissed a demon, she said in wonder. And for as much as he had been repulsed, she could not summon a tendril of disgust. A smile curled her rain-sprinkled lips. And I liked it.
* * *
He clicked to answer the ringing cell phone as he stalked away from the repulsive witch. She had tastedwell, not vile, but rather sweet. Though hed not admit that out loud.
Thrash! You gotta help. Theyre getting closer. I cant get out of here!
It was his friend Laurent LaVolliere, a fellow demon whom he considered family, for their grand-relations had once formed the Libre denizen centuries earlier here in the very heart of Paris. Laurent sounded out of breath and frightened. The man was a strife demon; it took a lot to frighten him.
Tell me where you are, Laurent.
The Montparnasse!
Where in...the cemetery?
Their skin... Ed, its falling from their faces. And...stuff is oozing from their mouths. Theres so many of them. I can feel their dark magic. So...powerful. I cant move!
The terror in his friends voice sent a shiver down his spine. Ill be right there. Hold on.
Ed shoved the phone into his pocket. Yet something compelled him to glance over his shoulder. The witch was nowhere to be seen. Talk about tormenting demons under the full moon.
But he couldnt bother with a silly witch and that ridiculously hot kiss. Laurent was in trouble.
He spread back his arms and tilted back his head. The sensation of feathered barbs piercing his flesh always hurt like a mother. The price he had to pay for shifting. His molecules rearranged and did their own thing and his form separated into dozens of soot-winged ravens. As one entity the conspiracy of ravens swooped upward and soared in the direction of the cemetery. Beyond a vast city garden, the graveyard marked a dark blot amid the roofed and pavement-tangled city.
When he came to human form with a shiver of his body to gather in his energy and shake off a feather or two, he stood in a dark graveyard packed with tombstones, mausoleums, crumbling stone crosses and moss-frosted angels. Fully clothed, a phenomenon beyond his explanation, he wore no trace of his previous form. He could smell the anomaly immediately and felt its presence as a tightening in his horn nubs. And the witch ward on his forearm burned as it had not previously in the alley.