Chapter 7
Damn. Still here.
Ava tried to convince herself that the events of yesterday had been a bizarre nightmare. One quick glance at the mural of erotic decadence on the ceiling shattered that illusion. Sunlight streamed through the window, its rays piercing her tired eyes like tiny lasers.
She rubbed her eyes and stretched, trying to alleviate the tightness in her still-aching muscles. A sense of dread crept over her as she pondered her situation. After sitting on the bed for several minutes, she replayed her conversation from the night before.
According to Carman, she should still have her duty powers. In theory, using her duty powers might make her stronger.
Might. No guarantee.
Now all she needed to do was find a bunch of sexually frustrated women to confide in her so she could hold a midnight court and pass judgment on their sexually deficient lovers, thereby compelling them to satisfy their women.
Piece of cake.
Ava laughed bitterly. How the hell could she pull that off? Holding a midnight court would be one monumental task.
Twenty-first century women didn’t even know she existed. Using her powers of compulsion to get insensitive or abusive men to appear for judgment would be impossible unless they confessed to neglecting their lovers first.
The odds of an ice storm in July are more likely.
In an act of frustration, she flung her pillow against the wall. It clipped the shade of the lamp on the nightstand. She cringed as it crashed to the floor. Cursing her clumsiness, she rose from the bed. A tentative knock sounded at the door.
“I’ll be right there.” She strode to the door and yanked it open with enough force to throw her a little off balance. Ahlma stood before her sporting a quizzical look on her pixyish face. She had a pile of clothes in her arms.
“Is everything okay in here?” Ahlma’s eyes fixed on the lamp resting on the floor.
“Sorry about the lamp. Waking up in a strange place must have left me a little disoriented.” Her face burned with embarrassment. Ahlma must think her a complete moron.
“No worries. You slept so late, I wanted to make sure you weren’t sick or anything.” She handed Ava the clothes and grinned. “Did the mural on the ceiling keep you awake?”
“Not as long as I kept a pillow over my head,” she said. “Sorry to have worried you. I’m used to sleeping pretty late.” In the palace, she had no reason to get up early. Every day played out pretty much like the day before.
“We thought you might need a change of clothes or two. I hoped that between the three of us we’d find some things in your size. The leather halter and dog collar belong to Carman.” She giggled, her eyes filled with playfulness. “I put a few more conservative things in if that’s not your style.”
Ava looked down at the barely-there tank and mini she still wore, shaking her head at the ridiculous outfit.
“I owe you one, Ahlma. Thanks.” She graciously took the stack of clothes and smiled at her new friend.
“The shower is across the hall,” Ahlma said, motioning to a door. “We’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” She turned and scampered down the stairs without looking back, her feet making a whisper of sound.
The bathroom was a study in feminine excess with its pink tile, floral shower curtain, and matching window treatments. The soap dish, toothbrush holder, and tissue box were all embellished with sweet-faced cherubs gazing up at the heavens.
At least they weren’t pleasuring each other like the mural in her bedroom.
She stepped into the shower, felt the warm water glide down her body, and let her troubles go down the drain. Gently massaging her shoulders and neck, she moved her head from side to side and imagined how nice it would be to have someone there to do it for her. A certain dragon-shifter came to mind.
Maybe I should rethink the whole swearing off men thing.
Fantasies of scorching, volcanic sex filled her thoughts. Duncan had a raw sexuality that Ava couldn’t deny, but she also sensed there was more to him—a softer side hidden beneath his gruff exterior—perhaps a side that yearned for her as much as she yearned for him.
In an attempt to get the sexy dragon-shifter out of her head, she twisted the handle to cold, and the resulting cascade of icy water felt like needles against her heated skin. Hopefully, the freezing water would extinguish her desire until she could act upon it.
Once finished, Ava stepped out and took a pink floral towel off a hook on the wall. Selecting a lime V-necked T-shirt, faded jeans and a pair of flip-flops, she quickly dressed.
Unable to see herself through the fog on the mirror, she wiped the steam away with her towel. A gasp escaped her lips as she leapt back in shock. Trayan’s face stared back at her.
Surprise faded and rage flared. His appearance made her feel dirty and exposed. If she could’ve had her way, she would’ve turned him into a rat and fed him to a python. Without powers, she couldn’t make that happen.
“Hello, darling.” Trayan’s sickeningly sweet voice further sparked her fury. “Having fun yet?”
“Bastard!” She rubbed the towel over the mirror trying to rid it of Trayan’s pompous expression. He continued to sneer at her, eyebrows raised and lips pursed together in a condescending smile.
“That’s no way to greet an old friend, Ava. Be nice.” He pointed his index finger at her and shook it as if he were admonishing a small child. “Maybe I’ll put in a good word for you with the Mother Goddess.”
“Your words are what got me exiled in the first place.” Ava snapped the towel against the mirror, wishing with all her heart that Trayan’s face could feel the sting. “I would be an idiot to trust a lying snake like you.”
“You shouldn’t have rejected me when I only wanted to give you the best sex ever in your long, dreary existence.”
Trayan’s gaze locked with hers, his glare unwavering and filled with disdain.
“I don’t take rejection lightly.” His lips curved into a lascivious grin. “Perhaps you will change your mind now that you have fallen so low.”
“Dream on, Trayan. You’re a parasite, living off the Mother Goddess. I wouldn’t touch you if you were the only male in the universe.” For emphasis she draped the towel over the mirror obscuring his annoying face. The towel disintegrated to dust before her eyes.
“I’ll come back when you’re in a better mood. Soon, you’ll beg for my assistance.”
Ava grabbed a tube of toothpaste, squeezed and drew a circle with a big slash over his face.
“I’d die first.”
“You just might. The Mortal Realm can be a dangerous place for a goddess without her powers. You’ll need my protection.”
“I’ve had enough of your help, you pompous toad. Now, get the hell out of here and leave me alone.”
“Watch your back, Ava. You never know what may be lurking behind you.” Trayan blew her a kiss as his face faded from view.
A sick feeling welled in the pit of her stomach. Not only would she have to learn to survive in this world, but until she regained her powers, she would have to dodge the sleazy god’s advances as well.
~ ~ ~
Duncan watched as two young women crossed the street toward a trio of men who looked as if they’d just been released on parole. Between the wife-beater T’s, the shoulder-to-wrist tattoos, and shaved heads, it didn’t take a genius to tell these guys were bad news.
His gut clenched with a grinding disdain as he detected the sweet, pungent scent of an incubus. The women were headed to an encounter sure to be degrading and painful, and they had no control over their actions. A low growl rumbled deep in his throat.
As expected, when he approached the group, he heard the details of a transaction taking place. A petite redhead turned toward him. One look at her pale blue eyes and he knew her mind was controlled by another. Disgust surged through his veins. Vulnerable and unable to think for themselves, the girls didn’t know what they were doing.
The thrall that captured their free will could only be broken by the destruction of their master, and Duncan vowed to complete this task by night’s end.
Placing his body between the young women and their potential clients, he stared the men down and pulled out his sword, extending the blade.
“Get the hell out of here and leave these ladies alone.”
“Fuck you. These ladies are willing to spread their legs for a few twenties.” The largest of the men stepped toward Duncan, fingering his goatee. One hand slid to his back pocket, implying he carried a weapon.
“These girls want to party. Go get your own whore.” The other two men circled Duncan, each drawing a blade from their belts.
Before either of the two could react, Duncan grabbed one man’s wrist and twisted, slamming the men together. Their heads connected with a loud crack. Both men crumpled to the pavement, moaning and holding their heads. Goatee Man quickly lost his bravado, turned, and ran into the shadows.
Duncan shook his head. Biker wannabes—all bark, no bite, unless taking on young women half their size. A small hand rested on his arm.
“Wanna party, big guy?” The petite redhead couldn’t have been more than twenty. Dressed in a striped green tank top and a pair of ragged denim shorts, she looked much the same as the other one, like she should be going to class instead of selling her body on the streets. Smiling seductively, she moved close enough to rub her body against his. Duncan gently pushed her away.
“Don’t you want me?” Her voice sounded robotic, almost like a programmed response. Still intent on scoring a client she attempted to move toward him once again, but he placed his hands on the young woman’s shoulders, keeping the two of them separated.
“I can make you very, very happy,” she said. “I haven’t made my quota for the night, so I’ll make you a deal. Loads of pleasure for a little cash. I promise you’ll be more than satisfied.”
The blonde moved in behind him, sliding her arms around his waist. Duncan quickly untangled her and held both women at arm’s length.
“Who is your master?”
“King Deritus is our lord, master, and protector.”
“Protector my ass,” Duncan muttered under his breath. “Deritus is dead. Try again.”
“Oh, no, he isn’t.” The blonde shook her head. “He graced us with his presence just this evening.”
The adoration in her soft voice sickened him. Deritus was a snail needing a healthy dose of salt dumped on him.
“We were most grateful for his attention,” the redhead cooed seductively. “Now we will be grateful for yours.”
“Where is he now?” His voice filled with rage.
“Right there.” The blonde used her index finger to point across the street.
Deritus stood there, leaning against the side of a rundown storefront. His demonic lips curved in a smile as he issued a kiss-my-ass salute.
Duncan released the girls and charged across the street, only to have the demon fade away right before his eyes.
“Dammit!” He slammed his fist into the wall, oblivious to the pain and blood that began oozing from his knuckles. Deritus could be ten feet away or ten miles away, and he wouldn’t know the difference.
Duncan could hear his voice, taunting him from somewhere close by. “Maybe I’ll find Ava and take up where we left off.” The laughing voice faded into the atmosphere.
Enraged, Duncan punched the brick wall again. Scraped skin and bloodstained knuckles aside, it felt good to let off some steam. How many times would he have to kill the sentient incubus before he stayed dead?
The girls under Deritus’s thrall had already found new johns and were getting into a Ford Expedition. No way would Duncan let that happen. Before the driver had a chance to pull away from the curb, he yanked open the passenger door and pulled the women out of the vehicle.
One look at Duncan, with his slithering dragon tattoos, tree-trunk arms, and don’t-fuck-with-me expression and the men drove off.
The girls stood before him once again, protesting that they hadn’t made their quota and they didn’t want to displease their master. Duncan considered his options. He couldn’t break the thrall, but he could compel the young women to go home.
Placing his hands on the shoulders of the redhead, he looked directly into her eyes. “No more tricking this night. You will go home and stay there. Understand?” She nodded, and he repeated the same process with the blonde.
Frustrated that was all he could do for them, Duncan shook his head and watched them leave. His compulsion would keep them safe only until Deritus called them back to him. Hopefully that wouldn’t be for a while. In the meantime, he needed to find a way to track Deritus down and kill the son of a bitch again. Fear for Ava’s safety twisted his gut, further igniting his sense of urgency.