Stone Cold Touch (The Dark Elements #2)(33)
Author: J. Lynn

In the darkest corners of the club, poker games were being played. A man in his thirties—so plain he had to be human—sweated profusely as the ungodly handsome man across from him glanced up, grinning. Light reflected off his irises, just like it had with the succubus girls on stage.

The demon showed his hand. “Flush. Yours?”

The man’s hands shook as he flipped his cards over. “A straight,” he replied hoarsely. He fell back in his seat, face paling.

“Are they playing for kittens?” I asked, thinking of an episode of Buffy I’d caught on the computer one sleepless night.

Roth looked puzzled. “What?”

I shook my head. “Never mind. What are they playing for?”

“I’m not sure I want to know.” Roth steered me away from the poker tables.

“Pretty little girl, wanna dance with me?”

My head snapped up. One of the cage dancers reached through the bars toward me. When she couldn’t reach me, she stood, closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Long brown hair fell down her back as she swayed her h*ps to the music. “Come on. Let loose. Live a little. You’ll love the freedom. The way the music catches your blood on fire. You’ll love the burn. We all do.”

“Harpy,” murmured Roth.

Her eyes opened into thin slits as she dipped, running her hands down the front of her barely clothed body. She smiled at Roth. “Mei Domina.”

The language she spoke sounded old. “What did she say to you?”

He grinned. “Don’t dance with any of the girls in here.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” I replied blandly. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” he echoed as he guided me toward the bar, his hand on my back a somewhat steady presence in the crazy world I’d stepped into.

“What happens if I do dance with one of them?” I asked after a few seconds.

He leaned in, whispering in my ear, “You’d never stop, shortie. You’re only part demon, so you’re susceptible to some of the demons’ charms. Some of those girls up there are humans. They danced. Look at where they are now.”

I shivered. From his words or his breath, I wasn’t sure. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“If you could see their souls, I’m sure you wouldn’t feel that way.”

My gaze flickered over them. The girls were all beautiful in their own way. Some were supermodel thin and some larger, pale skin and darker, brunettes and blondes. “Their souls are tainted?”

Roth nodded, looking pleased. “This is sort of a waiting room and a welcoming committee all in one.”

“Is this…purgatory?”

“No.” He laughed. “Purgatory is nowhere near as entertaining as this place is.”

I really wasn’t sure what to think of that or why he wanted to show me any of this. I let him walk me to the bar. It was surprisingly sparse. Only three or four patrons, all human, sat on the stools. Roth left me on the stool at the very end of the bar next to a bowl of beer nuts.

“I’m going to go score us something to eat that doesn’t involve a food that had about a hundred fingers in it. Just don’t dance with anyone or allow anyone to buy you a drink.”

“But—”

“I’m trusting you not to get into any trouble,” he continued, his eyes meeting mine. “I know you can take care of yourself. I know you’re smart. I’m not going to lock you in a room to ensure that you make good decisions.”

I opened my mouth, but then it hit me. Roth did trust that I could take care of myself and stay out of trouble. There was a…a freedom in that I’d never really tasted before. My whole life had been inside a cage. Not like those of the dancing girls, but a gilded cage that all female Wardens were kept in, and although I’d been given more freedom than any of them had, the frustration was the same.

“Layla?” he queried softly.

Something else occurred to me then. Zayne would lock me in a room to keep me safe if he thought there was even a hint of danger in the air. Roth…yeah, he’d tried to get me out of the way, but he wouldn’t shelter me. He would…he would just let me be.

“Okay,” I said finally. “I’ll be here.”

“Good.” He smiled and then disappeared back into the crowd.

I swiveled around, frowning as I told myself I totally had this. I was cool. Totally cool.

I fidgeted with the edge of the bar, keeping my eyes down. I doubted making eye contact with anything in this bar would be a smart idea. If there were succubi in here, what else could there be? I thought of the handsome demon in the corner playing cards.

Was the demon a dealmaker—a special kind of Duke that could be summoned from Hell to make deals? Back in the day, they were commonplace topside from what I knew, but just like other dangerous demons, they’d been banished to Hell by the Alphas.

God, if the Wardens knew that this place existed, they’d have a field day down here.

“She says I need a better job. That if I can’t pay my own bills, then how can I pay hers?” said a man a few seats down from me. He was dressed in a drab gray suit. It looked like a knockoff you could buy at an outlet. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose her.”

My gaze shifted to the bartender, and my mouth dropped open. It was Cayman! He glanced at me and winked as he topped off the man’s glass from a clear bottle. His ice-blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and he wore a black dress shirt that was rolled up to the elbows.

So on top of being an infernal ruler and Roth’s wingman, Cayman was apparently also a bartender.

Odd.

He set the bottle down between them and leaned his hip against the counter. “Women are such trouble, Ricky. That’s why I prefer a good, honest man.”

That he liked men wasn’t news to me, but I seriously doubted he preferred a good, honest man.

Ricky ran the back of his hand over his forehead, blinking. “You’d change your mind if you met Angela. She’s an angel, as angelic as her name. I love her.”

“An angel that wants you to pay her bills?” The gleam in his honey-colored eyes brightened. “Doesn’t sound like a heavenly creature to me.”

“She’s so beautiful. Heaven ain’t got nothing on her.” Ricky lowered his head to his hands, and, for a moment, I thought the dude would start crying. “She won’t return any of my phone calls or emails. Not until I can prove I’m financially stable.”

Cayman sighed. “What would you do for this gold-digging angel of yours?”

Ricky’s head lifted, his eyes wide and sort of glazed over. He was drunk. “I’d do anything.”

“Anything?” asked the demon. He leaned forward, eyes latched on to the mortal’s.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“Anything,” Ricky agreed vehemently.

“What do you think you need for this wonderful specimen of womanhood to stay with you?”

“Money,” answered Ricky. “I need to win the lottery.”

Cayman grinned wolfishly, topping off the man’s drink again. “Then one more drink for good luck, my friend.” He raised the bottle up.

My stomach sank even further.

Ricky tapped his glass off the bottle, then downed the glass. He slammed it down and the glass shone an unholy red for a brief second. A deal had just been struck.

Love in exchange for a soul.

Ricky stumbled from the bar after a few minutes, and I hoped he didn’t accidentally get on the wrong elevator or something. I turned an expectant look on Cayman.

He laughed as he made his way over to me. “Care to share your worries?” he asked smoothly.

I leaned back. “Yeah, no thank you.”

He slid the bottle in front of me and leaned against the bar. “Would you like a drink, then?”

My eyes narrowed. “I’m fine.”

“Smart girl,” he replied. “Then again, I doubt there is any deal you could make me.” He looked over my shoulder, scouring the bar. “You’re looking at me like I just murdered a baby, sugar. You know what I am. You know what you are.”

“You just let a guy trade his soul for love.”

“Part of his soul—just a teeny, tiny piece. That’s all.” His gaze moved back to mine. “What was Roth thinking by bringing you here?”

I shrugged. “I have no clue.”

“And where is he?”

“Headed off to get us food.”

He laughed. “Roth brought you here for food? That’s great. You look as comfortable as a kitten huddled in a pile of pit bulls.”

I made a face. “I look that out of place?”

“You got that look that says not quite human, but that’s not it.” Cayman cocked his head to the side. “Frankly, when you look around, you look like you’ve smelled something bad, sugar.”

Did I?

Cayman flipped the white towel across his shoulder. “I don’t have to know you that well to know you ain’t happy with what you are.”

“That’s not…” I trailed off. There was no point in denying it. I still hadn’t fully come to accept that I was both Warden and demon—the embodiment of good and evil.

He smiled again. “You know, I know why Roth brought you here. He wanted you to see this—to understand what this place is.”

“A den of sin?”

Cayman chuckled. “Cute, sugar, but I’m sure he told you that a certain kind of people come here, right?”

“People whose souls are already tainted?”

He nodded as he lowered his voice. “These are the bottom of the barrel, the humans who do bad all on their own. They find their way here because it’s in their nature, and we’re doing society a favor with the services we provide.”

My brows rose.

“We’re aiding the process, getting them out of the gene pool so to speak, one little nip and suck at a time. That is what most demons do. We don’t go after the innocents. We go after the sinners—and, boy, do we love them.” He straightened. “That’s what your Wardens don’t understand. Just because there’s a few bad demons in the bunch, doesn’t mean what we do isn’t a very necessary evil.”

His words rained down on me as though I’d stepped out into an ice storm. Was that why Roth had brought me here? To show me that evil was necessary in the world and maybe not even that wrong?

I glanced around the bar again, easily spying the humans, and Roth was probably right. If I could see their souls, I’d see their sins. But what did that have to do with me?

It was so obvious that I sort of wanted to smack myself in the face.

Maybe Roth was trying to show me that somehow, some way, the demon part of me was necessary. That the demon side had been the one who’d given me the ability to see souls, and now to feel others’ emotions, and it had been the demon that had forced me to shift the night Paimon had tried to free Lilith. In reality, he’d always been trying to show me the benefits of my darker heritage. A small grin pulled at my lips. Thinking of those benefits didn’t lessen the blow of Abbot’s obvious disgust with me, but it helped.

“So has Roth wooed you away from all common sense, yet? He’s a yummy one, isn’t he?”

Caught off guard by the question, I felt my smile fade. “No! No. It’s not like that.”

“It’s not?” Cayman’s eyes seemed to catch and swallow all light. “How is it ever not like that with Roth? Denying him is like not breathing air.”

“Well, then, I must not be breathing. Roth and I are just friends.” Friends sounded so lame and wasn’t even particularly true considering our past.

He arched a brow, but shrugged. “Whatever you say, sugar. You want to pretend you’re not attracted to a hottie like that, it’s on you. Although he usually doesn’t do the dark hair. I like it better than the bleached white he does sometimes. It’s like Billy Idol called, wants his hairstyle back. I prefer the darker look myself.”

I couldn’t help it. Curiosity got the best of me. I leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

He grinned, dropping his head so we were eye-level. “He likes to change up his coloring. The facial features are always the same, and so are the piercings, but the hair is different. Now that he’s rocking the dark-and-brooding look, I guess he isn’t all about the ‘White Wedding’ or ‘Cradle of Love.’”

“Huh?”

Cayman rolled his eyes. “You younglings wouldn’t know good music if it hit you upside the head. Anyway, I like him when he’s dark and poetic. It’s rather entertaining.”

“I kind of like him this way, too.” I bit my lip and mentally bitch slapped myself. “I mean, I think the hair looks good.”

Another man sat down in the spot Ricky left open, sighing heavily. Cayman glanced over at him and a look of pure eagerness crept across his handsome face. “Ah, duty calls, little Layla. I have another client.”