Dar helped his foster sister become the ruler of Hel, and helped her free the enslaved humans from the elves. It’s about time he helped himself – to a fun week of mayhem in the Windy City. Collapsing a few buildings and corrupting politicians is an ideal vacation for a demon in Chicago, but Dar didn’t count on a beautiful angel sabotaging his fun and putting him to work.
Asta is an angelic enforcer, scanning for demons in her assigned territory and sending them to an early grave. Unfortunately, the latest trespasser from Hel has diplomatic immunity – but immunity doesn’t mean she can’t coerce him into helping her track and dispatch the powerful demon that’s been cycling in and out of her radar for the last few days.
Demons are the sworn enemies of every angel, but Asta must learn to trust Dar or the dark presence that is growing in Chicago will spread – and this particular enemy has the skills and knowledge to send human civilization back to the dark ages.
She has one week left as an enforcer before she returns to her heavenly home – one week to catch an elusive monster, and one week to safeguard her heart from the demon who is determined to seduce her to sin.
The demon shed his rat form, rising to his feet and shooing the rats away from Asta. They fled obediently, darting into nooks and crannies in the building wall and along the fence line until the only two beings in the alleyway were Asta and the demon.
She should have blown him to bits, should have dove at him, wrestled him to the ground and ripped his head from his neck, but all she could do was try to catch her breath and keep from bursting into tears. Some angel she was, some powerful enforcer. A century of exemplary service wiped out in one evening.
“Get out of my city and stay out. If I catch you here again, I’ll kill you.” Her voice wavered, giving the ultimatum an edge of desperation.
The demon cocked his head to the side, a surprised look on his face. “Oh now, surely you’re not giving up so quickly. We’ve got all night, and I’d hoped you’d play a bit longer. No more rats. I promise.”
Play? She’d freaked out, dancing around like a junkie on crack. She’d probably killed several of those rats. Tonight had to have been the worst night of her two-and-a-half-million-year life, and she wasn’t about to compound the damage by playing his game. She was done. He’d won.
And he’s naked. That stupid, snarky voice inside her head teased her.
He was. Asta got an eyeful of what had been under that expensive suit. The gray eyes were shadowed, glinting with red lights. Full lips curved into a smile that was both mocking and bold. Her eyes roved downward over broad shoulders and muscular arms. Not the slim form that usually appeared to advantage in suits — this demon was ripped. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his toned stomach and narrow hips. She looked lower, down to . . . hmmm. He hadn’t needed those tube socks at all.
Oh no. Not going there. Not going there at all.
“Like what you see?”
Asta felt her face heat up. “Do you lack the basic skills to make clothing, or are you making some futile attempt to seduce me? Because, I assure you, your efforts are wasted.”
Well, not totally wasted. How warm was his skin? How smooth? If she tasted . . . nope. Time to end that line of thinking right there.
He shrugged, keeping his distance. “I lack the skill to make clothing. Although I make up for it in other areas. Want me to demonstrate?”
Yes. No. “Put your clothes back on.” She gestured to the neat pile.
“No way. I like the way you look at me when I’m naked.”
Argh, she was ready to punch him, even though he was right. She couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting downward to his. .. It wasn’t like seeing a human naked. He was a demon, and the presence of that spirit-being inside made the flesh all the more appealing.
“Besides,” he continued. “I get the feeling you’re going to smash my face in or rip one of my arms off. No sense in getting my clothes all bloody. You should probably get naked too, although I think those pants are beyond salvage. Pity. I like the way they hug your ass.”
The reminder of her ruined clothing irked her even more than his comment about her backside. This demon had to go before she did something drastic, like rip his head off or…. No, not going there at all, no matter how nice he was from the neck down. The neck up, too. Sheesh, what was wrong with her? Perhaps the coffee was a gateway sin, leading her recklessly down the slippery slope of damnation?
Or she just hadn’t been intimate in a very long time. Yeah, that was it. Desperation was making this demon appear a viable partner.
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