Chapter 1

“Shit,” I growl as my car sputters into my narrow driveway. I barely manage to avoid hitting my trash cans by mere inches. Ominous white smoke curls from the hood like a burial shroud, declaring its demise. I groan and let my forehead fall against the wheel, trying desperately to stifle the sob growing in my chest.

As if my day couldn’t get any worse. Apparently, it wasn’t funny enough to the universe that I lost my job, my wallet—with both my debit card and licenses still in it—ripped my favorite—and quite expensive—pair of jeans, and found out my boyfriend of six months was already cheating on me, all in one day. Oh no. The universe was a bitch from the ninth level of hell, and she was not done with me. There was no mercy in her non-existent soul for Myra Daniels.

My poor car. He had never hurt anyone. Trusty and faithful, old Blue had stood the test of time with me. From his infancy with me in high school, through college, and then into my twenties. It wasn’t his fault he had been doomed to be owned by me, a thirty-year-old widow who had been planning to use the extra thousand dollars she had in savings to tune his engine up, but had to spend it instead on her son’s braces.

I sigh and lean back in my ripped cloth seat, fighting back tears. Thank God Elijah was with his grandmother. If he were here, I know the universe would not have spared my son from its morbid humor.

Roughly, I rub my hands up and down my face, trying to prevent the tears from coming. No crying. That sorry son of a bitch was not worth crying over. And my job…well, I had been daydreaming about quitting for quite some time now anyway. God, I need a drink.

I grab my purse, climb out of my car, and drag myself up to my front porch. At least the house was paid in full. That meant Elijah and I wouldn’t have to move in with my mom and dad, which was a less than pleasant thought. Having to go to their house, licking my wounds for a second time in my adult life, was more than my already battered pride could handle.

I pause on my tiny back porch, taking in my quaint little cottage-style house with its arched windows, tan stucco, and deep brown trim. It had been love at first sight for me, resembling Belle’s cottage from *Beauty and the Beast*. It was a rare style in this area and had been unbelievably below my budget, despite its roomy five acres and remote location. According to the realtor, it had been abandoned for nearly two years, which was part of the low asking price. I snort and make my way up to my large red door. Maybe sometimes the universe showed a little mercy on me.

I freeze and glare at the Christmas wreath hanging on my door despite it being mid-July. Scowling, I rip it from its hook and toss it onto the iron chair on my porch, vowing to use it for kindling for the bonfire tonight. It had been a gift from him, and it would burn with anything I had of his in my house. That was one nice benefit of being out in the middle of nowhere.

I fish my keys from my purse and shove them into the sticking lock. Pulling the door handle towards me, I jiggle them three times back and forth before the bolt clicks and the door opens. Okay, so the house was a fixer-upper, but really, how could I pass up Belle’s cottage paid for in full?

“Echo,” I call as I hang my purse on the coat hook in the mudroom and kick off my high heels, relieving the pain in my feet. Those too would be added to the bonfire, and it would be the last time I wear heels, ever. In fact, I think every heel I own will be subject to my cathartic fire.

“Echo,” I call again, wondering where my cat was, and peel my jeans off. Elijah wasn’t home, and the rip showed one cheek of my ass completely anyway. Shit, perhaps I would just dance around the bonfire in my underwear while drinking myself into a wine-soaked stupor. That sounded like an appropriate cap to this otherwise shitty evening.

Clicking my tongue, I toss the jeans to the side and pad from the mudroom into the kitchen. Biting my lip, I rummage through my cabinets for a wine glass and grab the large bottle of Merlot I had been saving for this evening. So much for birthday celebrations for two. Just another kick in the teeth from the bitchy universe. Happy birthday, Myra, here’s your boyfriend plowing some fake-tit, blonde bombshell in the middle of his living room. It was the universe paying me back for being so eager to see him and deciding to arrive earlier than I had originally told him.

“Echo! Where are you, boy?” I call while running my fingers through my long, sandy-blonde hair. Truth be told, I could really use some vanilla-scented cat cuddles right about now. Echo’s thick white fur was always a pick-me-up.

It was odd though. Echo—seemingly more dog than cat—always greeted me or Elijah at the door when we came home. Or, at the least, would meow like mad from the living room, demanding his lap time. A purebred Maine Coon, he was twenty pounds of white, fluffy, loving fur who adored his humans and his food bowl. He had been a pleasant surprise that came with the house.

A faint, contented meow calls from the living room. “There you are,” I say as I uncork the bottle of Merlot and take it with me, abandoning my glass altogether.

I pause in my move to take a swig when the sound of a strange, strangled meow echoes, Echo. My heart leaps into my throat, and I silently pray that the universe has not done something to my cat. “Echo?” I call as I dart into the living room.

I halt in the entryway and scream a scream worthy of a horror film. I nearly drop the bottle of wine until my frantic, panic-stricken mind remembers it could be used as a weapon, and I hurriedly back up to the wall behind me.

There, sitting in the middle of my small living room, petting my cat, was a large, partially clothed man. Hair the color of pure gold draped down his broad, drooping shoulders, pooling on the floor around him like an ocean of gleaming metal. He sat listless except for his hand stroking Echo’s fur. Black leather pants worthy of a rock star hugged long legs bent Indian-style, while only thick golden bands around his biceps, wrists, and throat adorned his bare upper body. The taut muscles of his forearms, arms, and bare chest moved beneath tawny skin as he coursed his long fingers through Echo’s fur.

The traitorous cat purred with delight at each stroke, while the man echoed the cat’s noises, somehow copying them perfectly. “Who…who the fuck are you!?” I stammer at the strange man. My breath goes ragged, and my hands now clutch the bottle of wine, ready to toss it at any moment.

The man rolls his head to face me, as if it were connected by a loose hinge. I suck in a sharp breath. Eyes as red as blood stare back at me with glazed anger. My hands begin to sweat around the bottle of wine. Contacts, they had to be contacts. Eyes like that were not natural. “Who are you?” the man slurs back, a crooked smile playing across his full lips and flashing teeth that look more like a shark’s than a man’s.

My hand begins to tremble around the bottle. “This…this is my house, damn it!” I declare while my eyes jump to the long, corkscrewing horns that curl from beneath a white cloth wrapped around his head and underneath his chin. Black tattoos that look like crudely drawn runes and symbols adorn his forehead, collarbone, and hips.

What was this man? A drunk cosplayer? But how did he stumble into my living room!? The door hadn’t been broken, and I was well over a hundred miles from the nearest convention center. Shit. I was fifty miles from the nearest store or the nearest police station.

The man’s regal brow furrows, and his glazed red eyes observe my living room before falling back to me. His smug smile grows. “You mean my home,” he points a long black fingernail that would have been a manicurist’s dream to his chest. Maybe a goth cosplayer?

“No!” I growl, “My home! Now answer me! Who the fuck are you? How did you get in here?”

“Who are you?” the man echoes in an imitation of my raised voice, then laughs darkly. All the while, he continues to stroke his long fingers through Echo’s fur. “Who are we all but the refuse of our father’s passions?”

My teeth grind. I should dash for my phone and call the police. Right now. But this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I am done letting this bitchy universe push me around.

Still brandishing the wine bottle in my hand, I stomp up to the man and loom over him. “Answer me now or I will call the police!” A golden brow rises, and his red eyes rake me up and down, stopping at my hips. A lurid grin spreads across his lips.

I glance down at myself, having forgotten completely that I’m not wearing any pants. Heat burns my cheeks, and I hurriedly pull my t-shirt hem down to cover at least my lacy, black boyshort underwear. “I am your lord and master, Beleth,” the man purrs, “King of Hell and commander of eighty-five legions of our lord Beelzebub’s armies, and devourer of lace.”

I squeal as the man’s hand shoots up like lightning and clamps around my wrists. His long nails shackle them like manacles. And before I can pull away, he tugs me down into his lap. Echo moves quickly, meowing his displeasure at being extradited from his perch. “Let me go!” I screech and move to smash the bottle into his head.

With another dark laugh, he catches the bottle with his other hand and wrestles it from my grasp. Well, that didn’t go as planned. “I thank you for the spirits, but tell me, succubus, how did you gain entrance to my lair? Were you sent by our lord to tend to me?”

“Succubus? Tend to you?” I scoff. Holy cow, this man was really drunk and totally into his character. And I am a goddamn moron. Why didn’t I go for my phone and call the police like any sane person would when they found some drunk man in their living room? With my five-foot-six inches against this man’s six feet, how had I ever thought I stood a chance?

“Yes. It is a well-known fact that succubus kisses can heal any ailment,” Beleth slurs.

With a growl, I try to wrench from his lap and back to my feet. Laughing, Beleth throws the bottle back, gulping down its contents while easily pulling me back down into his lap. His grip on my wrist feels like banded steel being cinched down on my skin. I immediately stop struggling at the unspoken threat of breaking it if I move again. The strength in his single hand belies his lean, athletic frame.

He shakes his head, making his golden locks brush against my bare legs like silk and tickling my thigh. He rests the bottle on his knee, and his hazed red eyes now hold a hint of bawdiness as they lock on my face. “Nay, succubus, I did not grant you leave.”

“What the fuck? This is my house!” I roar into his face. “Now let me go, or…or I will scream, and the neighbors will hear me!”

It was a lie. I had no neighbors. It had been one of the selling features of the house for me but was now a safety point I was rethinking.

“I have no neighbors but my fellow Kings and Dukes, and should they hear you scream, succubus, they will merely assume it is the usual.”

I am afraid to ask, but my mouth moves on its own. “The usual?”

Beleth throws the wine bottle back to his lips. Wine trails from his lips, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he sucks down the last of the bottle. Though it is far from what I should be thinking right now, I thank my foresight in buying two more bottles. “You know, the screams of hell,” Beleth says with a laugh as he tosses the empty wine bottle across the room. I let out a sigh of relief as it just skids across the living room floor rather than shattering. “Now, succubus, did you bring more spirits, or is that the only bottle you have?”

My mouth goes dry. Screams of Hell? Maybe this man wasn’t drunk. Maybe he was high or on drugs? My skin goes cold, and I can feel the color drain from my face. Great, just great. A cokehead has wandered into my house and is now holding me hostage on his lap.

Beleth’s red eyes narrow down at me, displeasure in my non-answer apparent. “Well? Have you more spirits? Answer your lord. I do not repeat myself. I warn you I am already in a foul temper, so be quick about it.”

My brows raise. “More wine?”

“Yes. Wine, succubus. What else would spirits be?”

Ignoring his slurred, yet still haughty tone, I use the opportunity the universe has seen fit to give me in a rare show of mercy. “Yes, I have more. It’s just in the kitchen. If you let me go, I will fetch it for you.”

I work to make my voice sound sweet and compliant. It comes out more like a growl between my teeth. Beleth doesn’t seem to notice. In one swift motion, he rises to his feet, depositing me roughly on my ass, and heads toward Elijah’s bedroom door, swaying from side to side as if he were walking on a ship. Oh yeah, definitely this man was on something.

“Good! I need more spirits to drown out this horrid pain,” his hand rubs against the bandage covering his angular jaw.

He swings open the door and freezes in the doorway, gaping at the green room of my six-year-old, decorated in monster trucks and Ninja Turtles. His shoulders are straight and stiff, while his hand makes the door handle groan. “This is not the kitchen,” he murmurs.

Seeing Beleth is not moving, I rush to my feet and toward the kitchen and mudroom. My heart races in my ears, filling it with that awful thrum that drowns out all the other noises around you. I will not waste this second chance. This man is crazy!

A powerful arm loops around my waist and hauls me to his lean frame. His body against my back feels like hard, hot steel. “What is this, succubus?” Beleth growls in my ear, any mirth he had held before gone; replaced by hot, palpable anger.

Heat like a roaring fire sears me along my arms and hands where his skin meets mine, and I suck in a breath of pain. He now feels like being pressed against hot coals. “What—” I stammer, but I go silent as his arm tightens around me. My eyes burn now, but I work to keep them dry. Crying and getting hysterical at this moment will not save me. I thank God again that Elijah is with his grandmother.

“No lies, succubus,” Beleth’s breath is scorching against my bare skin as he brushes my hair back to open my bare neck to his lips. “Is he mine?”

I freeze, utterly dumbfounded by his question. “What?”

“There are trappings of a boy in my lair,” Beleth growls against my throat, sending a simmering heat and tingles along my skin, “I would permit only mine to reside within my dwelling. So either this is a trick, a horrid prank orchestrated by one of the Kings or Dukes while I’m in my weakened state, or I sired a spawn with you.”

My voice literally catches in my throat. I blink down at my taupe carpet, not knowing what to say at all. Wow. This man was really, really high. “You are silent,” Beleth whispers while his long nails from his free hand trail up my trembling arm and up to the flesh of my throat. “Speak, seductress. You can tell your master the truth. If you were coerced by the others to play this prank, I shall not whip you. But if the boy is mine…”

His voice is low, rasped, and filled with trepidation. It is as if the man fears hearing that the boy is his. “His name is Elijah,” I manage to whisper.

Beleth tenses around me. “Elijah,” he voices the name with reverence, “as in the prophet?”

“Yes, but he’s not your son,” I whisper, “and I am not tricking you either,” I quickly amend and steel myself for the man’s rage. Sweat rolls down my brow. Perhaps, just maybe, he could be reasoned with?

“If this is so,” he whispers, brushing his lips to my ear, “how did you and your son gain entrance to my dwelling?”

“I told you this is my house.”

“Nay, this is my lair and has been so for nearly a hundred years. I visit here in the summers when the bowls of hell are too hot even for a demon. That,” Beleth points a long nail at Echo, who had perched all three-plus feet of himself in front of us, watching us with his bright blue eyes, “is my guardian beast, Apollyon. He guards this dwelling and lets none enter unless I bid him.”

I can’t help it. The stress, fear, and overall absurdity of the situation crack me. I start laughing hysterically. “You are saying this is your summer home from Hell and that the cat,” I point to Echo, “is your guardian beast?”

Beleth nods, nuzzling his lips against the soft skin just below my ear. I squirm in his arms, his lips sending tingles to places that have felt them in a very long time, but continue to laugh like I have gone mad, because I’m sure this man is.

“Wow, buddy, you must be on some strong shit. That is impossible. I bought this house just last year. Sure, the cat was already here, but—”

“I am in my right faculties, I assure you,” Beleth’s voice grows low, hot, and utterly serious, “mostly anyway. The potion Agamemnon fed me to soothe the loss of my fangs was rather strong, but it did not rob me completely of my sense. I know who I am, where I am, and this is my dwelling.”

I stop laughing. “You really believe all that, don’t you?”

Beleth’s arm muscles flex around me. He now holds me completely in a bear hug from behind, as if he owns me and it is the most natural position in the world for him. I shiver again with the feel of him against my back. He is lean but powerful, and his muscles move with a latent violence that frightens yet tantalizes me at the same time. He smells of smoke and, surprisingly, rose petals.

“It is the truth. Though I am a King in Hell, it doesn’t mean I’m the King of Lies,” he huffs indignantly. “That title is reserved for my brother, Belail.”

Fear begins to chill over my prior hysteria. That clammy numbness overrides the furnace of the man behind me. What if this man isn’t high or drunk, but just well and truly crazy? What would he do to me if he really believed me to be trespassing? Other fears assail me as I feel something long and hard press firmly against the curve of my ass. I swallow hard and my hands tighten around his forearm curled around my waist.

“I bought this house from the real estate agent, Beatrice Berith. She…she works for Brad Morgan Real Estate.” I stammer, hoping against hope he is local and knows the agent or agency.

“That doesn’t explain why you are in my dwelling, succubus,” Beleth purrs as his long nails brush against my cheek. “I punish those who enter without my permission, especially in my prized summer home. And I have never permitted one of my prior consorts to take residence here.”

I begin to tremble, and my heart roars in my ears. Shit, shit, shit. I go to open my mouth to further argue or plead with the man, whichever will get him to let me go, when Echo opens his first. “Stop it, Beleth, you are scaring the woman. You put this house on the market with Berith two days ago from Hell, don’t you remember? Or did getting your fangs ripped out from your skull by Lucifer make you forget that and me? Because you sold me with the house, you bastard.” Echo’s voice is smooth and regal but filled with indignant fury. “My…my cat just spoke,” I stutter. The man at my back becomes suddenly very irrelevant. Then my eyes roll into the back of my head, and I do something I have never done before: I faint.

Chapter 2

“Hey, succubus,” Beleth huffs above me as he smacks my cheek none too gently. “Wake. I didn’t say you could sleep. I need tending.”

I groan and realize that I’m lying flat on my living room floor. I wave his hands away and brush at my aching cheeks. His hands feel like they have been shoved into hot fires, and add a scalding sensation that trails with the sharp pain.

“This is a terrible succubus,” Beleth whines to Echo, who sits beside my head, swishing his tail. “First, she invades my dwelling, insults me, then falls asleep when she should be tending to me. And not once has she put my cock in her mouth or even tried to undress me in the least.”

“That’s because she is a human, Beleth, and not a whorish one. Can’t you smell her? Honestly, what did Agamemnon feed you?”

Beleth makes a sour face but then returns his gaze to me. His red eyes narrow. My head still spins with the sound of my cat’s voice. Well, at least he’s complimenting me, right?

“She’s human? She can’t be. She’s chested like a succubus and smells…different,” Beleth pokes a sharp fingernail into my boob, spurring me back to alertness. I swat his hand away and cover myself.

“Don’t touch me!” I hiss.

“While I can’t deny that she is human, Beleth,” Echo sighs heavily.

“Hmmm,” Beleth falls back on his heels as if considering me. He rubs absently at his bandaged jaw, then shrugs. “I have never had a human before.”

I go stiff at his words. Shit. I suddenly wish my parents had been more religious and sent me to Sunday school. What were demons believed to do? Eat souls or people? Beleth’s wicked smile grows as I can feel the color drain from my face.

“You cannot eat her, Beleth,” Echo chastises.

“Oh, there are more than one way to eat a woman,” Beleth grins lewdly and leans back over me. His hands fall on either side of my head, pinning me to the floor.

“Why is my cat still talking?” I stutter, trying to divert his attention to anything else but me. I’m also genuinely curious why Echo is talking.

“That is because, human, Apollyon has a voice, and what has a voice often speaks,” Beleth chuckles, sounding a bit more sloshed than he did before. With an inquisitive look, he rakes his eyes over my face, and I squirm beneath him. His glare is intense and not like others I have experienced before. Of course, I have never experienced a demon’s gaze before. Everywhere his eyes drift feels warm.

“I…I need a drink,” I stammer, unable to withstand his look.

Sweltering hands grip my arms and hoist me to my feet, then hold me until I stand on my own. My world spins, but I’m thankful when Beleth removes his hands.

“Yes! Spirits!” Beleth commands and turns to the kitchen doorway. “I am to always be greeted with more spirits!”

I barrel past him, rubbing the bridge of my nose. Like hell I’m letting him get to the bottle of wine I have left first. Wine sounds amazing right now.

In the kitchen, I yank the second bottle of Merlot from the counter, uncork it, then toss it back, taking several large gulps. Beleth makes a choking sound and yanks the bottle from my hands, looking affronted at its now half-empty state.

“There is a special place in Hell for those with avarice, greedy little succubus,” he scoffs as he tosses the bottle back himself and in several long gulps finishes it off.

Hell. My eyes take in the long spiraling, coal-black horns atop Beleth’s head, and my world feels unstable again. The wine settles uncomfortably into the pit of my stomach and threatens to come back up. I grip my kitchen counter for support.

“So, are you really a demon?” I ask in a raspy voice that doesn’t sound like me at all.

Beleth glances down at the bottle of wine, as if he were surprised by its now-empty state.

“Yes. What else have I been saying since you barged into my dwelling? Do your ears work?”

“But…but how?”

Beleth’s golden brow raises and he smiles with a dark, smug expression.

“How else are demons made? We are angels who fall from heaven. Or, more accurately, in mine and my brothers’ case, shoved from heaven.” He waves his hand dismissively and tosses the empty bottle into the sink. “Now, succubus, more wine. I will expire from thirst, and my jaw is still throbbing. That damned potion Agamemnon gave me is wearing off.”

“Human,” Echo corrects while jumping atop the counter. Normally I would move to shoo him off it, but I stand frozen in place, gaping at his moving mouth instead, still dumbstruck that my cat is talking. “And it serves you right. Lucifer stripped you of your fangs. I warned you to leave that particular succubus alone, but name one century where you have ever listened to me.”

I gape at Beleth, who nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders with half-lidded eyes and a grin. The wine has to be going to his head as he seems drunker than he did before. But he is a demon. Can demons get drunk?

“She had the biggest tits I had seen in a few centuries and a nice ass,” I grip the counter harder as his eyes fall back to me, “of course, this human vastly outdoes her. I wish now I had simply come here first.”

I fling my arms around me to cover my breasts and give him a warning glare.

“She is not that kind of human, Beleth.”

I beam internally. Though bizarre, he could talk in the first place, Echo was defending me. I go to pet the top of his head.

“She is a prude and not your type.”

My hand freezes mid-air and I scowl at the cat.

“Prude?” I murmur. The single word slices me as it echoes exactly what my ex had yelled after me merely hours before. While I wouldn’t consider myself a wanton, sexual deviant, I abhor being called a prude.

“She hardly looks it,” Beleth grins at me appreciatively.

“Thank you,” I say to him while still covering my breasts.

“How could you sell this place with me in it?” Echo smacks his tail harshly atop the counter, drawing Beleth’s attention back to him. “I expected more from you, Beleth, just like Lucifer’s concubine did. Tell me, Beleth, was her tits and ass worth the price of your fangs?”

Indignant anger flashes to Beleth’s face, flushing his golden skin a scalding red. In a swift motion, he takes the empty bottle back up from the sink and begins to wield it like a bat, swinging it toward Echo.

“Why you—”

“Wait!” I interrupt, throwing my hands up and somehow catching the bottle mid-air. “You will not kill my cat in my own house!”

Beleth blinks down at me, apparently just as shocked as I am that I managed to catch the bottle, then clicks his tongue and lowers it.

“He is not feline,” Beleth huffs and tosses the bottle back into the sink. “And this is not your dwelling. Which means if you are not going to tend to my every need, you should leave.”

“No, this is my home. I bought this place fair and square and in cash. So that means you are trespassing.” I growl while crossing my arms beneath my breasts. Like hell I was going to abandon the only home that Elijah and I had left now. With no job, it was going to be my best means of survival until I could find a new one.

Beleth flashes his teeth in an exasperated snarl, and for the first time, I notice he is missing teeth where upper canines should be.

“I did nothing of the sort, human. This is my dwelling and has been for hundreds of years. So, either kneel before me or march that lace-covered ass right out.”

“Fuck off. I am doing nothing of the sort!” I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the counter. “You can either leave now or I’ll call the police.”

“Police,” Beleth scoffs, “I am a King of Hell, woman, and commander of eighty-five of our Lord Lucifer’s legions. Your puny police would not be able to hold me.”

“That’s eighty legions,” Echo corrects while brushing lovingly against my back and purring.

Beleth’s face turns another shade of red.

“It’s eighty-five! And I will not be commanded by this woman in my own dwelling! She holds no power here!”

“Yes, she does. She signed the contract and paid the negotiated price that you had listed with Berith. That means this place is hers, and, by even demonic law, she can banish you.”

Beleth narrows his eyes at Echo, who peeks around my shoulder. It doesn’t go unnoticed that my own cat is using me as a human shield.

“I accepted no payment.”

“You should have received the payment converted into gold not two weeks ago, hell time, of course. Berith himself should have delivered it.”

Beleth’s mouth works wordlessly for a moment while his eyes widen in surprise. Then he thrusts an angry finger toward Echo.

“It was sold on a human contract. This place was bartered for via a demonic one. It doesn’t count. The terms and conditions are completely different, and the title was paid for.”

“She signed with Berith, on a binding contract, and in blood,” Echo purrs haughtily. “Thus, she has met the terms.”

I shiver at the conversation and the chill it sends down my spine. The man was arguing with my cat. My cat! And about a demonic contract! What did I sign? Worse, Echo was right. I had signed with blood, in a way. I had gotten a papercut that day, and it had smeared all over the paperwork where I had signed. The agent had insisted it was fine, rather than reprint.

“I need more wine for this,” I declare while resuming rubbing the bridge of my nose. I move away and begin searching through my pantry for a third bottle I’m sure—I pray—I have hidden away from myself somewhere.

“I…I…” Beleth stutters behind me, his voice rising with each utterance. Then he goes silent and glares at Echo menacingly. His mouth clacks shut audibly, and his lips curl into a wicked smile. He walks up to Echo and seizes him by the scruff of his neck.

“Fuck the house. You are still my underling, so you will get me back to Hell and retrieve my fangs. Then we will fix…this horrid misunderstanding about the house.”

I swirl back to them, a bottle of Cabernet in my hand.

“You can’t take the house back.”

“Like hell I can’t.” Beleth huffs.

“I need this house. You can’t take it back.” My hand squeezes the wine bottle.

“Exactly, you can’t take it back, Beleth,” Echo says smugly.

“Watch me,” Beleth grinds back into the cat’s face.

I suppress another hysterical laugh as I glare at them both. Beleth’s face flushed red, adding contrast to his black horns and nails, while Echo glares back at him defiantly. This is not happening.

“I am not that anymore either. I am her underling now, as per the terms and conditions of the contract signed.” If cats could grin, I am certain Echo would be grinning.

“What?” Beleth growls, “I would never—”

“See section four, article A of the fine print,” Echo purrs, his tail swishing smugly in the air.

“Wait, you mean, you were included in the addendum of the purchase contract?” I chuckle and open the bottle of wine. Again, I forgo glasses and take a long, deep swig. Maybe I’m drunk and this is all a crazy hallucination.

Both their eyes turn to me, and my laughter dies as the situation hits me more completely.

“Shit, you mean I signed a contract with a demon?”

Beleth sighs and releases Echo, roughly dropping him with a thud to the floor.

“That is exactly what it means. You offered up payment for the house and signed in blood, though I’m truly amazed Berith settled for human money alone.”

“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT!” My chest begins to rise and fall heavily, “You mean I signed a contract with a demon!?”

“Yes,” Echo purrs as he saunters across the counter and resumes rubbing his large head against my shoulder.

“Shit,” I fall back against the counter and fight to hold myself up, dropping the bottle of wine.

Beleth curses under his breath and dives for the bottle, catching it just before it could connect with the floor.

“Addled human! How dare you waste spirits!” he bellows as he rises back to his full, towering height, then begins gulping it down.

“What… what did I promise? Did…did I sell my soul?” Hands shaking, I rake them up and down my face. “My…son, what about my son?”

“He was not a part of the contract, and no, you did not sell your soul,” Echo assures, “not all demonic contracts are so…severe. You just bartered away some of your…luck, nothing more.”

I turn to face my cat, confused.

“Luck?”

Echo nods his big head.

“Luck is what humans call it, but it’s a divine essence, an aura that surrounds all humans in varying degrees. It is a portion of your spark, your piece of divine grace that grants positive occurrences in your life. It can be bartered to a demon and used to….” Beleth begins to explain absently, then trails off. His eyes fly wide and his hand flies to his jaw. “Lucifer be damned—the potion.”

Echo nods his head again.

“It’s a good thing you included that in the addendum. It’s what’s keeping you together right now.”

“Hold the phone here,” I say, holding my hand up to stop them both. They both turn to glare at me. “So, I gave my luck to him?”

“Yes.” Echo and Beleth answer in unison.

Hands still shaking, I snatch the half-empty bottle of wine from Beleth’s hands and take several long, deep gulps. Then I let out another hysterical laugh.

“It makes sense now,” they both frown at me quizzically. I let out a very tired sigh. “This past year has been absolute dog shit for me. One disaster after another. First, my boyfriend cheats on me, my car dies, and,” my eyes begin to sting, “And I lost my job today.”

I sniffle and take another long swig of wine.

“I mean, I thought it was just the universe shitting on me, but it was you this whole time,” I scoff between a choked sob while pointing a finger at Beleth. His blonde brows rise, and that wicked smile of his returns. Not an ounce of remorse on that face.

“Yes, it would seem so. Boyfriend, you say?”

I gasp as he is suddenly in front of me. That hazy look draws his eyes to a lighter red, and his hands clasp the counters on either side of me. My heart stutters. His broad chest fills my view, and his golden hair shimmers in the kitchen light. Small strands brush against my arms, sending goosebumps along my skin with its silky texture. Butterflies flash alive in my stomach, fluttering in wild, wine-soaked patterns.

“You speak of him in the past tense.”

I nod, surprisingly rendered speechless. This is a demon, a demon! But my lady parts don’t seem to recognize that. Was the wine just getting to my head? Or was this a glamour? Demons aren’t beautiful. They shouldn’t be. But maybe that was a part of the catch? Come to think of it, that agent had been breathtaking too. Was that why I had failed to read all the fine print on that damn contract? Am I really that lonely now, that desperate, that I melt at the sight of a hauntingly beautiful man? Oh Michael, how far have I fallen. Pathetic.

“He was cheating on me,” I manage to grit through my teeth. Suddenly, I’m clutching the bottle of wine between us in anger, the sight of Roger pumping into some blonde who looked like an aerobics instructor flashing before my eyes again. I didn’t love him, but I thought I could possibly start to. Still, the betrayal hurt all the same.

“Perfect,” Beleth purrs as he lowers his face closer to mine.

“What?” I say with a swallow.

“There is no one to get in the way. You will add me to the addendum of the contract and help me get my fangs back as well.”

“Oh no!” I shove the bottle of wine into his chest, pushing him back away from me. “No more contracts. No more signing anything. I will not put any more of my luck or… divine aura up for auction. I will need every drop I can get to get mine and my son’s life back on track. I can’t have some succubus demon sucking it all down! Now, you will get out of my house.”

I march through the kitchen and toward the back door.

“I am not a succubus. Those are only women. Incubi are men. I am not that either. I am a King of Demons,” Beleth says with a chill in his voice. “And you, little human, do not have the power to exercise me. Thus, I am going nowhere.”

I turn on my heels, my hands planted on my hips. Pursing my lips, I give Beleth a level gaze, then turn it to Echo. Hadn’t they both said the cat was a demon of some kind too and that he was under my control?

“Echo, get rid of him,” I command.

Beleth’s eyes bulge, and he spits out the wine he had just gulped.

I shiver at the sound of Echo laughing as he waltzes down the counter toward Beleth. “She has you there, Beleth,” Echo smirks as he sits on his hind legs next to Beleth. “I am at her command, and as the guardian of the dwelling, I can extradite you easily.”

“You wouldn’t.” Beleth flashes his teeth in outrage.

Echo gives me another long look, as if confirming my order.

Done with this whole scenario, I open my mouth to speak again, but Beleth jumps at me. The wine bottle clanks against the tile floor as his large, very hot hand covers my mouth.

“Do not speak it, succubus!” Beleth hisses into my ear as he laces his other arm around me and crushes me to him, keeping me from running backward and locking my fists at my sides. I roar against his hand and look to Echo for help.

Echo lets out another laugh and plops to lay on his side atop the counter, not lifting a paw in my aid. Apparently, my cat finds this all very amusing.

“Now, hold your tongue, succubus, and hear me out. You need this house for you and your spawn, do you not?”

I growl against his palm, refusing to answer. Like hell I was making a deal with a demon knowingly this time. Lord knows what kind of hell points I had already racked up signing the first one, much less for talking to Beleth now.

“Well, we can aid each other then,” Beleth continues, choosing to take my growl as a yes rather than the fuck you it was meant for. “You can aid me in getting my fangs back from Lucifer, and in exchange, I will allow you to keep this house. I will even pay you if that is what you wish.”

I laugh into Beleth’s hand and shake my head. He frowns.

“Is that a yes, succubus?”

I laugh even harder, tears now starting to form in my eyes.

Beleth drops his hand from my mouth but now wraps it around my body.

“Man, you have some major screws loose if you think I’m going to help you get something from Lucifer. The Lucifer!” I chuckle. “And the house is already mine, so you have no right to offer it in the first place. I don’t need your money either. Echo—”

Beleth’s hand covers my mouth again.

“To banish me is a mistake, human,” his voice is low and hot in my ear. The laughter dies in my throat as his hand trails across my hip and over to caress my inner thigh. Involuntarily, I suck in a breath as his long, hot fingers trail up to the lace of my panties. “There are other things I can give you. Pleasures I’m sure you have never felt in your life, all at my fingertips.”

I squirm while heat flushes my cheeks, and parts that haven’t felt that way in a long time begin to ache. Beleth cups me with his large hand, and I suck in a shocked breath. His hand is hot and still against me, but my core pulses with its presence as I fall still against him, too afraid to move or to encourage him to move. My god, it has been forever since I had been touched there. Not even my ex had touched me there.

Like a predator who can sense his prey, Beleth smiles.

“I see I have caught your attention,” he whispers while his palm presses more firmly against me. I breathe in deep through my nose. My god, this is a demon. A bona fide, horned, fanged-toothed demon. I should be pulling away, thrashing, fighting for the very sanctity of my soul! But the scent of rose petals fills the air around me, and my blood is rushing beneath my skin, heating where his hand trails against me.

“Do you know what I am the demon of?” he whispers as he slowly drops his other hand from my mouth and trails it down my throat.

I swallow and shake my head, feeling suddenly like a quivering rabbit trapped by the hungry wolf as his long nails trail my skin.

“I am the demon of love.” His hot lips press against my neck, and a thrill shivers down my spine. Then I still. Wait, the demon of love?

Unable to help myself, I snort back laughter.

Beleth pauses with his lips against the tendon at my throat and shoulder.

“You find something amusing, human?”

I squeal as his teeth nip at my flesh, then burst into laughter, realizing this is my out to this situation.

“The demon of love? Really? That’s your pickup line? Not the demon of pleasure or lust or fornication, but love?”

Beleth’s hand squeezes my core, and I gasp.

“Yes, love,” his voice grows tight, irritated, “and it’s not a…pickup line. That is what I am. The demon of love.”