I hadn’t seen or spoken to Samuel Rose in several days when Luiz dropped a fat manila envelope on my desk.
I expected it to be information on the Parr file, but was pleasantly surprised to find that it was photos of the incubus that had somehow wormed his way into my cold little heart.
“What's this?” I asked as I spread the photos out on my desk. Luiz took the chair which was typically reserved for clients.
Each of the photographs showed a woman. The same woman. In different locations. That was strange.
“Is she human?” I asked.
Luiz nodded as he watched my fingers hover over the glossy paper.
I tapped my bottom lip in deep thought. “That is rare.”
Luiz's brow furrowed. “How so? Incubi need to feed often.”
“Yes.” I agreed. “But from the same human? Proximity to Incubi can be deadly to humans. Especially if there is prolonged skin to skin contact.” I tapped the first photograph which showed the two of them arm in arm. I quashed the pang of jealousy down until it dispersed like ink in water.
“By all rights, if they are sleeping together as much as they seem to be touching in these photos then this woman should be dead.” I mused.
“She could be the one mentioned in the prophecy. That woman has been around the Rose brothers several times. She can withstand an incubuses touch.”
I collected the photos and slipped them back into the envelope. I refused to meet Luiz's hazel eyes as I dropped the evidence into my desk drawer.
“When did you get so wise?” I joked but my words had a bite.
If Luiz sensed my anger, then he didn’t show it. There was no way for him to know how much the notion of a human woman hurt me. The rage that came with an unknown entity getting everything that I had ever wanted. What made the woman who would bare Lucifer’s child more worthy than me?
I had been created from his very existence. I had been by his side. No one could rile me like Lucifer. No one could sooth the burning ache of loneliness like he could. He had been my everything.
I gripped the pencil in my hand so tightly that it snapped. I jolted from my reverie.
“Do you want me to continue to watch the woman?” Luiz asked.
“I want every ounce of information. Nothing is too small. I want to know the woman’s shoe size. How she takes her coffee. I want it all.” I hissed, slamming my palm down on the wood of my desk with a thud.
Luiz scurried from my office as I fixed my hair. I reapplied my lipstick as well and decided to hone my anger into something productive.
“Are you angry because Samuel’s with another woman, or because that woman could be the potential mother of the antichrist?” Luiz asked gently.
I mulled it over with pursed lips. “Can it be both?”
Luiz's lip quirked into a smile. “And they say gay men have all the drama.”
“Whoever said that has never spent a day in hell.” I frowned, as I sat up and brushed the invisible wrinkles from my skin-tight skirt, I perched myself on the edge of my desk.
“Are you still in with the Bleeders?”
“The what?” Luiz asked, confused.
“Humans that drink Daemon blood. We've always called them Bleeders. It seems to ebb and wane every few years.” I shrugged.
“The Rose Family seems to be behind the recent surge in Daemon blood-drinking humans.” Luiz allowed.
“I want to meet that woman,” I gestured to the photos. “I need an 'in'.”
“I can get you in, if you shield your demonic presence.” Luiz said, not too eagerly.
“Done.”
Dartmouth House in Mayfair was visible from my own balcony. A large Georgian house on Charles Street, it was a behemoth of history on one of the most expensive streets in London.
It was early evening and the air was balmy. I could feel the static that came before a thunderstorm. It made the hairs on my arms stand to attention. Even though I was disconnected from Hell, I felt the tell-tale signs of Seventh Circle magic around the mansion. Incubi and Succubae were notoriously easy to spot, if you knew what to look for. They sucked up residual energy from the air leaving behind a stark and dry atmosphere.
Walking up the concrete steps, I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear as I waited for my host to open the door.
Even with my demonic abilities tapered down, I could smell the coppery tang of blood mixed with the kinship of Hell magic. A human in a black suit opened the door and gestured for me to enter the house with the tilt of his chin. He did not introduce himself so I did not ask. I was led past a black and white chequered tile floor and down a thin corridor. I heard the erratic heartbeats of dozens of humans.
The man servant led me to a dark games room. Low pulsating music filtered through the air and the energy was hazy as if the room was full of smoke.
There were no daemons in the vicinity. I walked over to a young blonde woman with long hair that tickled her waist. She wore Alexander McQueen and her cloying perfume tickled my nose.
“Exciting, isn’t it?” the girl said, her voice held the taint of a public-school education.
“Oh yes.” I cooed in faux-excitement even though I had no idea what she was talking about.
“Sarah-Belle Ferringham.” She smiled demurely and offered a limp hand for me to shake. I took it and introduced myself.
“So, you're a Bleeder?” Sarah-Belle quirked her head to the side. Her crystal blue eyes gave the appearance of air-headed stupidity. I did not know if it was calculated or real.
“Yes.” I replied, but did not elaborate.
“D is such a high. You'll love it. I can tell that you’re new here.” The blonde said smugly. “Stay away from the twins though. I've heard they’re rough.”
I nodded in agreement. Between Samuel’s cruel and calculating nature and Vincent’s barely tapered mad-hatter insanity, I could imagine that it was not fortuitous to enter a bloody or sexual relationship with either of them.
Keep telling yourself that, Dahlia, you know Samuel affects you. Admit it.
Sarah-Belle jumped to attention and straightened her back. She pressed her hand on my chest and forced me to her side. It quickly became apparent that we were to stand in a line.
Herded, like cattle, I stood and waited in formation like a good little human. I heard their footsteps before the others did and turned to the closed Oak doors that were hidden away in the corner.
The handle depressed downwards and the first person though was my Hellhound, Luiz. His chocolate coloured eyes met mine, but as discussed, no recognition sparked between us. A few of the scantily dressed woman shifted from side to side in appreciation. Luiz certainly was good looking with his curly raven black hair and olive skin. As expected, he chose one of the men and walked back out of the door.
One by one, daemons came and went but I recognised none of the others. I stood at the end of the line but I was not chosen until there were five of us left from the original two dozen.
I felt his warm energy on the air before I saw him. Quickly followed by the crackling embers of his brother, Vincent. They entered the room together.
Vincent eyed me in surprise but ignored me in favour of Sarah-Belle, who giggled like a child. Samuel walked behind him, entering the room with an air of ownership and confidence that I had never known an Elite Daemon to possess.
His self-assurance would have been expected from One of the Original Seven, but not from someone that had once been human.
A leather strap was secured around his clasped fist. My eyes followed the line of material until it became apparent that I was witnessing something private. Samuel held a leash and on the other end of it. It was the human woman that I believed to be the future mother of Luc's child.
Samuel’s emerald eyes snapped to mine, his face was impassive. Giving nothing away. He licked his bottom lip as he sashayed past the other Bleeders until he stood in front of me.
The human woman crawled on her hands and knees like a pet. Her movements were leonine and graceful with a practised ease that implied that she was used to being on the end of a leash.
She wore no clothing. Her brunette hair was in a high ponytail, no doubt for easy grasping. I was no stranger to BDSM culture, but the way her body spoke of complete trust in her Dom caused me to do a double take.
“Dahlia Clark, I did not expect to see you at my home.” Samuel clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
How was I going to play the situation? I wondered. I certainly hadn’t expected to see the future mother of the Devil’s spawn on her hands and knees.
“I didn’t know you had a pet,” I spoke softly, my eyes never leaving his.
Samuel did not look down to the woman in all fours. “She passes the time.” He shrugged with a smirk.
“Does she have a name?” I asked.
“Jealous, little human?” Samuel licked his bottom lip, his hand tightened on the leash. He seemed on edge. Aggravated by my presence.
“What’s her name?” I asked again through clenched teeth.
Samuel’s brow furrowed as he tried to decode my expression. I did not know if he could see the murderous glint in my eyes. If he did, he would never truly know why.
“Her name is Nora. She thrives on being controlled.” Samuel reached down and ran his hand down her spine affectionately. She arched like a cat.
I was conflicted between confusion and jealousy that I did not understand. Nora wore a blindfold and was on all fours like a dog. Why did I feel so unnerved by her?
“Don’t you want me?” I asked in a weak voice. It was hard to tell if I was acting anymore as my insecurities came through.
“She’s food.” Samuel shrugged with a glint in his eye. He leant forward and tilted my chin with his free hand. My eyes met his again and I felt the energy between us grow electrified.
“Food?” I asked, playing dumb.
Samuel laughed darkly, his eyes narrowed at me in a way that implied that he thought I was either incredibly stupid or terribly naive.
I was a Treachery Demon. I lived and breathed lies. My mask was infallible.
“I am an incubus, little lie detector.” He leant forward and placed a chaste kiss on my closed lips. “Surely you have felt the pull of my magic. The weakness in your knees. The wetness between your legs?”
I shook my head as if in disbelief, when obviously, he did not know that his magic did not affect me.
“No,” I whispered. My inner Hellion cackled in laughter.
“Does that scare you, Ms Dahlia?” Samuel purred. His voice was sex and smooth honey. “That I could push my cock to the hilt inside of you and drain your life away with an orgasm?”
I painted my face is disbelief as I staggered back and flew to the door.
And the academy award goes to...