Envy

here.

Then again, she didn’t care what her minions’ opinions were, and her souls . . . oh, her lovely souls . . . well, they had other things on their minds.

Tilting her head back, she looked up at the miles of shiny black walls that rose up from the stone floor. The tortured damned writhed against the confines of their viscous prison, faces and hips and knees and elbows straining for a freedom that they would never attain, their woeful voices multi-layered and muffled.

“How do I look?” she shouted upward.

The chorus of moans rose in reply, but told her absolutely nothing.

For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she get a witness somewhere? Anywhere?

After a last double-check of herself, she granted access to Jim, summoning him forth. And as she waited, her heart beat triple-time, a flush charging every inch of her skin with an electric sizzle. But she was not going to show it. Cool. Keep it cool.

Jim arrived in a swirl of mist, and her breath caught.

The chosen savior was the very best of the male sex. Built big and lethal, his body was an instrument of warfare, but it was also made for fucking. Raw, pounding . . .

“You want me,” she said in a low voice.

His eyes narrowed, and the hatred in them did more for her libido than the best plate of oysters anyone had ever served up. “Not like that, sweetheart.”

Oh, how he lied.

Swaying her hips, she went over to the worktable and trailed her fingertips across the pitted, discolored surface. Memories of him tied down naked, his legs spread and his sex glistening from use, made her breathe deep.

“No?” she said. “You called me. Not the other way around.”

“I want you to tell me who the next soul is.”

Interesting. “So Nigel turned you down when you asked him, did he.”

“Didn’t say that.”

“Well, I find it hard to believe you’d come to me first,” she muttered bitterly. “And you think I’m going to tell you?”

“Yeah, I do.”

She laughed in a violent burst. “You should know what I’m like by now.”

“And you’re going to tell me.”

“Why in the world would I . . .”

His hand lifted to his heavy chest and slowly, oh, so slowly, drifted down his stomach. . . .

Devina swallowed hard. And then her mouth went totally dry as he cupped himself between his legs.

“I have something you want,” he said roughly. “And vice versa.”

Well, well, well . . . She wanted to be with him, yes, but this was even better than voluntary coupling. He was going to have to force himself to have sex with her, sacrificing his flesh to her for information . . . in front of his dear, sweet Sissy.

Devina looked up to her wall and found the soul he was so goddamned concerned with. Willing the girl downward, she leaned back against the table.

“Exactly what are you proposing.”

“Tell me who it is and I’ll fuck you.”

“Make love to me.”

“It’ll be fucking. Trust me.”

“A rose by any other name . . . But I’m not sure.” What a lie. “That’s very valuable information.”

“And you know what I’m like.”

Oh, she did, and she wanted him again. Wanted him always.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll tell you who it is, and in return, you will give yourself to me whenever I want you. You will be at my beck and call.”

His eyes narrowed again in that way they did, turning into slits that made him look like a predator.

And then there was only silence. As the quiet stretched out, she held tight. He was going to come around, and oddly enough, she had Nigel, the tight-ass rule abider, to thank for it. If that archangel had breathed the name of the soul, this wonderful sacrifice wouldn’t be getting made.

“Done.”

Devina began to smile—

“With a caveat.” As she froze the expression, he said, “I’ll be with you now and you give me the name. Then we’ll see if it’s the right one. At the end of this round, if you didn’t lie . . . you’ve got me. Whenever you want me.”

Devina growled. Fucking piece of shit free will. If she could just own him properly, he wouldn’t get a vote at all. But that was not the way it worked.

Although there were still loopholes to be had, she told herself. Ways to shade this so that she didn’t give too much away and yet managed to have him regardless.

“Do we have a deal,” he demanded.

Walking forward to him, she focused over his shoulder at the small shape in the wall that she had called down for a close, ringside seat at what was going to happen.

As Devina stepped into that hard body and rose up onto her tiptoes, she reveled in the utterly rigid flesh she brushed against. Into Heron’s ear, she whispered, “Take off your pants.”

“Deal or no deal, demon.”

He was unbending before her, perfectly capable of denying her, not just now but in the future: Even though he was right in front of her, he was completely untouchable.

Except as he’d said, they both had something the other wanted.

“Take off your pants.” She stepped back, ready to enjoy the show. “Do it slowly—and we have a deal.”

“What the hell is he doing up there?”

As Adrian barked out the rhetorical, he didn’t expect a response from his roommate. Then again, you could drop a Lexus on Eddie’s combat boot and maybe you got an ow. More likely the angel would just blink and kick the sedan off his big toe.

Frankly, the strong-and-silent bullshit got to be annoying.

“It’s been two hours.” He stopped at the foot of the bed Eddie was sprawled out on. “Hello? You tracking at all? Or were you planning on sleeping through this round.”

The lids on that red stare lifted. “I’m not sleeping.”

“Meditating. Whatever.”

“I wasn’t meditating.”

“Fine. Psychically manipulating energy fields—”

“You make me dizzy when you pace. It’s vertigo diversion.”

He didn’t buy that for a second. “Would it kill you to get worried once in a while.”

“Who says I’m not.”

“I do.” Adrian ran his eyeballs down his buddy’s long, still body. “I feel like rolling in a defibrillator and paddling your ass.”

“What am I going to do, Ad? He’s going to come back when he does.”

Images of Nigel, the dandy, going galactically stoopid all over Jim came to mind, and made Adrian wonder if they’d need to plan a memorial service. That archangel up there might pass his time playing croquet and polo, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t rip into a guy—and Jim had left here with a whole lot of throw-down on his mind.

Maybe the bastard had gotten what he was looking for.

Adrian started up with the pacing again, but the hotel room didn’t offer much in terms of floor space. He supposed he could go down to the bar—

Next door, there was a creaking sound. Like someone had sat down on the bed. Or opened and closed something.

Reaching behind to the small of his back, Ad withdrew his crystal knife. If it was just some human breaking in