Demons Like It Hot Read online

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2011 by Sidney Ayers

  Cover and internal design © 2011 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design and illustration by Jamie Warren

  Cover image © Laurie and Charles/Getty Images

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

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  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  An excerpt from Demons Prefer Blondes

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  For my grandmother.

  You were always there

  to help me recognize my dreams

  and always made me smile

  with your own fascinating stories.

  I know you’re smiling from above.

  Love you always!

  Prologue

  “So you’ve finally decided to join us?”

  The loud voice boomed in Matthias Ambrose’s ears. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his camouflage cargoes and paced along the dais. The council, consisting of the Paladin’s oldest and fiercest demon warriors and delegates, looked down their noses at him.

  He felt inferior, weak, and little. A common occurrence as of late… ever since his last job. A job he wished he never took. He deserved whatever hellish mission the Fore-Demons had in store for him.

  “I have.” In the seven hundred and fifty plus years since he’d been demonized, he’d learned one thing. The less he talked, the better. Short and simple. End of story. The less he opened up, the less he’d show his weakness. And that was the last thing he wanted at this moment.

  “Very well, Ambrose. Step forward.” The high-demon stood and clapped his hands. “I need to summon your handler.”

  Matthias rolled his eyes. Of course the Fore-Demons controlled their assets just like the CIA did. “Summon away, my lord.”

  “Do I sense some sarcasm in your tone, Ambrose?” The demon clucked his tongue. “I can always reassign you to another mission. How does Siberia sound?”

  Knowing the Fore-Demons and their nonexistent sense of humor, he wasn’t kidding. Might as well play along. “Cold.”

  “Ahh, still as witty as ever.” The elder demon scraped a withered hand through his white beard. “Unfortunately, now is not the time for jokes. We have serious problems on Earth and we need all the help we can get—including yours.” There was no mistaking the contempt in his voice.

  He controlled the snort that threatened. As if he was the truly evil one. If they only knew the truth. Maybe then the almighty Fore-Demons Council and their ever-so-virtuous Paladin wouldn’t be so quick to make assumptions.

  What in Hades had he gotten himself into? He had never needed to prove his worth to anyone before. Now it was the only thing that drove him. He wanted to belong. He wanted to help. It unnerved him.

  And it was all her fault. How could one simple job cause him to doubt his own existence?

  He was a paid mercenary. He’d never chosen a side. Now he was ready to jump on the Paladin bandwagon. Why now?

  The answer was simple. Serah SanGermano.

  The moment his eyes had met hers, his world had spun out of control. And when he saw the mark on her hand, he knew exactly why the Infernati wanted Serah SanGermano. The two dots separated by a long slash showed him all he needed to know. She was a Pure-Blood. Despite his fear at the discovery, other emotions roared inside him. The scar only accentuated her beauty. Because of her, he’d almost failed his last mission. The only comfort was that when it was all done and over, Miss SanGermano wouldn’t remember a thing. He’d made certain of it.

  The curse of his demonic existence—the ability to remove all memories and thoughts. He could swoop in, do his business, and no one, not even one of those blasted slayers, would remember a thing. Part of his heart constricted at the thought. Why would he want her to remember him? He’d nearly sent her to her death.

  From the fight she and her chimp of an imp put him through, he was lucky to make it out alive. She was a spitfire for sure. That sort of fight would only get her in trouble—especially in the Infernati’s clutches.

  Infernati. He hated them more than ever. They were evil. They had taken advantage of him. They had found a weakness.

  Never again. He’d not let his guard down. But then there was Serah. Her curly brown hair that framed her face. Bright eyes that sparkled like the most vibrant sapphires left him entranced. Steamy sexuality rolled from her every move, yet still an aura of purity surrounded her. Confusing and intoxicating. Dangerous.

  He had to stay away from her, yet she needed protection. An imp, no matter how feisty he was, would not do. Not with the battle he could feel brewing. Then again, with Rafael Deleon and the bevy of demons in Connolly Park, Serah would be well protected.

  Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? He hadn’t thought about a woman in that way since that fateful day over eight hundred years ago. He drew his lips tight. Now was definitely not the time to draw up the past. He wanted to concentrate on his future. A future where he could fight evil… preferably on his own. Alone.

  “Are you done brooding, Ambrose?” The dark, rich tone prickled in his ears.

  Matthias’s head snapped up. He ground his teeth and clenched his fists tighter. If he was here it could mean only one thing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Ambrose, you will respect your fellow Paladins if you wish to join us,” the only female of the Fore-Demon council admonished. To iterate her point, she threw back her arm and launched a warning fireball whizzing just past his shoulder.

  Rafael Deleon shrugged and leaned against the marble dais. “No worries, Councilwoman Astra. He has his reasons, I’m sure.” He turned back to Matthias. “As for your question, Ambrose, I could ask you the same thing.”

  Taking in Rafael’s counten
ance, Matthias blinked. Was this the same man? Where he had once been brutally formal and uptight, his aura now remained peaceful and serene. He could try to mask it behind all his pomp and arrogance, but Matthias knew better. The rumors were true. He’d fallen in love with the half succubus he’d been sent to protect. Blasted odd; he’d always thought love a weakness in demons. Yet here stood Rafael Deleon, as proud and strong as ever.

  Matthias raised his chin. “I don’t need to answer to you, Deleon.”

  Rafael snorted. “I beg to differ.”

  “Are you a member of the Fore-Demon Council now?”

  “No.”

  “I only answer to them or who they choose for my handler.”

  Raking a hand through dark hair, Rafael turned to the council. “So you haven’t told him yet?”

  “We were just about to, Deleon,” Astra said with a flick of her barbed wings. “He seemed too deep in thought.”

  Rafael nodded. “I might as well do the honors.” With a devilish smirk he turned to Matthias. “Ambrose, you will answer to me because I—much to my chagrin, I assure you—am your handler.”

  Handler? Deleon? Why? This couldn’t be. He needed a mission somewhere far away from Connolly Park and Serah SanGermano. With her best friend’s demon lover as his handler, all his hopes slipped away. “I cannot agree to this.”

  “Why ever not?” asked the elder demon. “Deleon is a one of the finest Paladins and he needs your help.”

  “My reasons have nothing to do with Deleon and are personal in nature.”

  “If you let your personal grievances sway your decisions, then you will never succeed as a Paladin. If you want to prove yourself to the cause, you will accept Deleon as your handler.”

  Exactly what mission was he signing up for? What was so urgent that the great Paladin Rafael Deleon needed his help? After all, wasn’t he the one that was prophesied? “Fine. I accept Rafael Deleon as my handler.” As soon as he muttered the words, he was certain he’d regret it.

  As if reading his mind—which he was certain they were—the Paladin council stood and nodded to him.

  An indiscernible smile crept across Astra’s lips. “Very wise decision, Ambrose. Now it is time to hear your mission. Deleon, do the honors.”

  Rafael nodded in return. “Thank you, my lieges.” With stony silver eyes he glared at Matthias. “Your mission is this: You will guard my fiancée’s best friend: Serah SanGermano.”

  The frozen tundra of Siberia sounded better after all.

  Chapter 1

  “Mon Dieu! The fondue!”

  “What?” Serah SanGermano clutched her grandmother’s watch, its warmth flooding her body, and spun around. Flames shot out from the burners, flickering and taunting. Heat continued to flood her every pore. Her cheeks, fingers, and toes tingled. Every receptor fired in her body. She sucked in a breath. Would it ever stop?

  “The stove broke!” Edie, her sous-chef shouted, her French accent thickening. She fumbled with the knobs, twisting and turning each direction. “Merde…” she mumbled beneath her breath.

  Flames licked, flicked and taunted. More pans bubbled, threatening to spew their contents.

  Oh God, not the vichyssoise too!

  Serah shook her head to clear her jumbled thoughts. What in the hell was going on?—and she did mean hell. She had her reasons. But there was something different about this. Something unnatural, yet no evil lingered. She had a nose for it—literally.

  She’d always believed in the netherworld and the occult. She never knew just how close it was—until now. Now those demons wouldn’t leave her alone. An imp here, a ghoul there. Nothing terribly harmful. They mostly just liked to stir up trouble. More or less just a nuisance in her busy life. Thankfully, she had Lucy, her half-succubus friend, and Lucy’s demon fiancé, Rafe, to help her. Who would have guessed that not all demons are bad?

  More energy pounded its way through her body, filling her with intense heat—a heat she didn’t need or want. She shook her wrist, the silver band with its tiny diamonds sparkling and flashing.

  Stupid watch. Nonni told her to wear it at all times, that she’d be there to help Serah claim her destiny. Well, where was Nonni now? Gone, and it was all her fault. Serah shuddered as she stifled a sigh. She’d always love her grandmother, but she couldn’t bear it anymore.

  “You do something, Ms. SanGermano!” Edie flailed her arms back and forth, words so colorful they could only mean something she shouldn’t dare repeat spewing from her mouth.

  More heat shot into Serah’s wrist and her head buzzed. Something wasn’t right, but she had a business to run. People were counting on her. She had customers to take care of. She couldn’t let them down.

  A giant bubble of chocolate popped in the air, coating Edie and her purple, custom-made chef’s jacket in gooey chocolate. With that, another gush of chocolate erupted. Chocolate sprayed in every direction, all over the floors, the walls and ceiling… everywhere. Serah reached for a towel and lunged for the fondue pot, her Jimmy Choos slipping across the slimy chocolate coating the floor. Bad choice in shoes, she knew, but she had a client to meet with.

  “Aiee!” Serah shouted as her legs slipped beneath her. Pitching forward, she threw her arms out in a futile attempt to catch herself. She only slipped more. With an unceremonious plop, Serah landed face first in the ocean of chocolate. Who knew one pot could hold so much chocolate? She loved the decadent treat, but this much and she’d end up in a diabetic coma.

  “Damn it,” she muttered beneath her breath. What the hell was going on? Swiping the sticky sweet liquid from her face, she crawled toward the counter. She gripped the edge and pulled herself up. Without thinking, Serah swiped chocolate-coated fingers through her curls. Ugh! The rich sweet scent of cocoa clung to the air. She rubbed her nose, her fingers smushing into more sticky warmth. It certainly gave new meaning to brownnosing.

  Chocolate continued to gush in the air like Old Faithful. More pots rumbled and shook, threatening to spill their contents. Serah sniffed the air, hoping to catch a whiff of evil demon. Not a rotten egg in the vicinity. Just great. She didn’t need this. Not now. Not ever.

  Serah glanced down at the watch, the diamonds sparkling—taunting her, its unmerciful warmth spreading everywhere, down to the tips of her toes.

  Sorry, Nonni, but I just can’t wear it anymore.

  With that, Serah ripped off the watch and shoved it into the pocket of her jacket, where it would be safe—for now. After all, it was her grandmother’s watch. She had wanted her to have it. Serah couldn’t disrespect her memory. Not after everything she’d given up for her.

  Edie shook her head, chocolate drops flinging from her chef’s hat and normally red hair. “I no sign on for zis, but I see you need help.” She stomped toward the utility closet and threw open the door. “Ve must clean now. Before Health Department cloze uz down.” With a smile, she wheeled out the bucket and mop. “I did not think people used zeez s’ings no more.”

  “Mop’s always been good to me. I just can’t part with him.”

  “After this mess, he might be the one who parts company.” The thick voice wafted through the air, along with the faint hint of lemon. Kalli Corapolous sauntered in, her tall, buckle-down boots squishing in the chocolaty layer coating the floor. Flinging a purple dreadlock to the side, she scanned the kitchen. What in the hell was she doing here?

  “I’ve come to clean,” she said on a whispered breath. “I noticed a spike in otherworldly powers and came as soon as I could.”

  “Do you mind?” Serah asked, her voice taking on a tinge of irritation. Her best friend, Lucy, told her all about Kalli’s demonic gifts.

  “Mind what? The look on your face said it all. No mind reading necessary.” Kalli smiled, a warm smile despite the Goth getup she chose to wear. “Lucy’s on her way too.”

  Great. Just what she needed. Everyone meddling in her life. She didn’t need help. Nothing was wrong. So she had a few unfortunate mishaps with a few minor imps and w
raiths. Big deal. They’d seen worse.

  “Just a little mishap with the fondue pot.” Serah smiled, twisting a finger in a chocolaty curl. “I was experimenting. I read somewhere that chocolate and its antioxidants were good for your face and hair.”

  Serah popped a fingertip in her mouth and smacked her lips. The rich chocolate exploded on her tongue. Damn, Edie made a killer fondue. Too bad it was now sprayed across the kitchen. What a waste of fine chocolate.

  Kalli’s gaze narrowed and she pursed her lips, the silver loop in her lower lip jutting out. “I’ll have to ask Lucy about that. I’m still getting refreshed with my hairstyling skills.”

  Well this was an excellent way to change the subject.

  “So has Lucy actually let you style hair yet?” Serah leaned against the counter, her arm landing in yet another puddle of chocolate. “Ick.”

  Her question apparently fell on deaf ears. With a wary eye, Kalli continued to scan the shop. “Where’s Edie?”

  “In the back room filling a bucket. Something tells me we may need more than a mop though?” Serah forced a chuckle.

  Kalli nodded, her expression stern and stony. “What happened, Serah? And tell me the truth. I can smell bullshit a mile away.”

  “Nothing happened. The fondue got a little too hot and boiled over. No imps, demons, or wraiths around.”

  “There might not be demons, but something strange is going on.” Kalli turned to her, her amethyst eyes sparking. She grabbed her by the shoulders. “You and I both know this isn’t normal. You need help.”

  A huff escaped Serah’s lips and she placed her hands on her hips. “The only thing I have going on is a rehearsal dinner and if I don’t get everything done, then my business is shot.”

  She spun away from the counter and plodded to the sink. A quick turn from Serah, and the faucets roared to life. Squirting some soap into her hand, Serah lathered up. With a splash of water to her face, she scrubbed away the chocolate. She’d probably have blackheads for months now. She scrubbed her face harder.

  “If you scrub any harder, your skin will fall off.” Her best friend’s normally smooth and silky voice grated in her eardrums. Now that Kalli had her reinforcements, she was due for an earful.