Without limits ssion and.., p.117
Without Limits: A BWWM Collection of Passion and Desire, page 117
Then, like magic, everything cleared and I found myself in a lounge I’d never been in before.
The room wasn’t terribly large, about thirty feet in either direction, and it was dimly lit except for a spotlight over a round table with only two chairs. Soft R&B music thrummed in the background: “Use Me” by Bill Withers. The walls were dark green. There was a red leather couch against the wall across from me and a bookshelf to the right of it. A round table sat in the center with green felt across it. I didn’t see a door. Curious.
My attention diverted from the table when I heard the unmistakable sound of someone shuffling cards. I glanced up to see a man step into the circle of light from the overhead lamp. Jet-black hair, a white button up shirt, burgundy tie, navy slacks, and black dress shoes.
I sighed and massaged the bridge of my nose. “Not again.”
Belial offered me his usual infuriating grin. “Welcome back, my pet.”
“I take it my spiritual energy is still depleted enough that you can still creep into my headspace?”
“Your powers of observation continue to impress me.”
I dropped my hand and glowered at the archdemon. “Look, I’ve had an extremely long day and I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”
“Long indeed, from what I gather,” Belial said, bending the stack of cards between his long, slender fingers. “Your mind is cluttered with images of violence. What did the Almighty require of my favorite Seer today?”
“As usual, a big helping of none of your business. Get lost, Belial. For God’s sake, just let me sleep.”
“I will.” He drew out a heavy cushioned chair that matched the couch and sat down, folding one leg over the other and fixing me with a satisfied smirk. “…after you play poker with me.”
“Seriously?” I demanded.
“Seriously,” he echoed.
“What are we even playing for?”
The smirk stretched from ear to ear, transforming into a grin. “Clothing.”
I stared. “You want me to play strip poker with you.”
“Oui.”
“Eat shit.”
He offered a gallant shrug. “The faster you play, the faster I leave you alone so that you can sleep. Those are the terms, dear Jordan. Take them or leave them.”
I threw up my hands, made a strangulation gesture in his direction, and finally stomped over to the table. “Fine. Deal so I can get this nonsense over with already.”
Belial chuckled as I sat down. “Such a short temper, my sweet. What troubles you?”
“Aside from my sworn enemy stalking me in my dreams?” I growled, crossing my arms as I watched him shuffle the deck again. “I’m trying to exterminate a demons’ nest.”
“I see,” he said, flicking cards down on the felt-covered table. “Not easy business. Surely you’re not foolish enough to embark on this endeavor by yourself?”
“No, I’ve got help,” I said, arranging the cards. “It’s proving more dangerous than expected, that’s all. It’s been a while since I’ve had to pretend to be someone I’m not.”
“And just who are you pretending to be, my dear?”
I scowled at him. “Like you.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Well, you’re all about seduction and lies.” I slapped down the first card. “I’m just playing it the opposite way that you do with me. Men love it when you cater to their egos, and demons are like that but on steroids. It’s disgusting, but it works.”
“Only for simple men,” he said, examining his cards before choosing. “Boys, really. I had my fill of obedient damsels by the time they were building your first cities. Complex women are far more enjoyable.”
I snorted. “So you say. Don’t you still want me to be the Harley to your Joker?”
“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “You could never pull off a spandex suit.”
I rolled my eyes. “Naturally.”
“And so your damsel act is weighing heavy on your soul?”
“That’s overstating it a bit, but…” I sighed. Might as well be honest. He was already in my head anyway. “Yeah. I’ve managed to make it this far without having to use my feminine wiles much, as you can attest to. I don’t like it. It’s not who I am.”
“Perhaps not, but I think you’re looking at the glass half-empty.”
“How can I not?”
“It takes strength and fortitude to do such a thing. Not many are capable or willing. You are both. Don’t think of it as sullying your name. Think of it as a challenge. Unfamiliar territory to be conquered. You’ll sleep easier if you think of it from that perspective.”
“Meaning that I won’t be forced into playing strip poker with someone I hate?”
Again, he shrugged. “If you’re lucky.”
We laid down our hands. I won. It was impossible to keep a smug smile off my face.
“Sorry, demon. Looks like tonight’s not your night.”
“Not yet,” he said, unraveling the burgundy tie from around his neck and letting it drop to the floor. Some men needed to loosen the knot first, but he did it in one smooth motion, as if he were used to undressing in front of women. Didn’t surprise me in the least.
He shuffled the cards again and let me deal this time. “Have you already identified the nest’s leader?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Is that your seduction target?”
“No. I’m aiming for his second banana to work my way into their organization.”
He nodded once. “Smart girl. A frontal assault would be too obvious. What tactics are you considering to eliminate them?”
I eyed him. “Why are you asking? So you can sabotage it by warning them early?”
Belial rolled his eyes. “Making conversation, pet. Keeping you distracted might win me the next hand, after all.”
“Their stronghold is too well-protected. I’ll infiltrate and plant a charge during their next staff meeting and blow them all to kingdom come.”
He nodded again. “Ruthless. I approve.”
Again, I regarded him, trying to figure out if he really was just making conversation or if he had an ulterior motive. He wasn’t the type for small talk. “Why are you really here, Belial?”
He flicked his reptilian gaze up at me. “I’ve already told you that.”
“Yeah, and lying is as natural as breathing to you,” I said. “What do you want? Have you forgotten the part where I promised to hunt you down for betraying me, for making me betray my husband and my friends?”
Belial tilted his head slightly and sarcasm coated his next words. “How’s that going, by the way?”
I held my hand behind my back and concentrated with all my might until I felt a weapon materialize. I withdrew the retractable dagger and slammed the blade down on the table, between his first and middle finger. He didn’t flinch, nor did he break eye contact with me.
“I didn’t forget,” I whispered. “You may be older than time, but I will find you eventually, especially if you keep poking around in my grey matter.”
I let go of the dagger. He plucked it out of the table and set it aside. “I have no doubt that you will. However, this is neutral ground, so to speak. As your suitor, I am allowed visitation rights, am I not?”
“Suitor,” I said in between harsh laughter. “Right. Sure. I think if I look up ‘consent issues’ in the dictionary, I’ll find a picture of you naked.”
Belial actually laughed. It was rare to see him do that instead of giving me one of those condescending chuckles. I often forgot he genuinely found me funny. “Consent in your human terms is much too simplistic. Maybe when you’re older, you’ll understand what it actually means.”
“I’m pretty sure ‘no means no’ is cut and dry.”
He spread his cards out on the table, smirking. “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”
I glared. “Don’t get cocky. It’s unattractive.”
I kicked my tennis shoes off. He shuffled and dealt the cards again. We played another hand and I won this one, so he took off his shirt. I pretended not to notice the way the light played off the rolling muscles of his chest, shoulders, and biceps, all pretty and gleaming like polished marble. It was all the more noticeable since he didn’t have his wings out this time.
“Tell me something,” I said, with less heat.
“Hmm?” he replied from around a Lucky Strike cigarette that he’d ignited with a silver Zippo lighter.
“Why do you still work for Lucifer?”
He looked at me then. “Come again?”
“You’re one of the most independent demons I’ve ever met. Why haven’t you rebelled? Why still follow orders when you so clearly have a vision of your own?”
Belial arched a thin eyebrow. “Aside from the fact that he would most certainly wipe my existence from this world if I rebelled?”
I only shrugged in reply. He smoked for a while before answering. “I have vision in spades. What I lack is simply the will to mount an insurrection against my Master. I lost a war once. It cost me my soul. I have no need to lose again.”
I didn’t have a response to that. It was…alarmingly honest, or at least it sounded that way. Then again, he’d always possessed this weird honesty I couldn’t shake. There were times when he didn’t feel like the most evil bastard alive. Sometimes I could see the tiny remnants of an actual person inside of him.
He won the next hand. I peeled off my socks. He frowned at me, having expected either my shirt or my jeans. Ha. Served him right.
“Now answer my question,” the archdemon said after we started the next round. “Without your valiant husband, how long do you suppose you will last out in this nasty little world of ours?”
“Long enough,” I said, slapping another card down. “I’ll kill as many of your kind as I have to in order to survive. I don’t need…him.”
Belial watched me, inhaling slowly on his cigarette. His limpid eyes felt like the arid heat I’d experienced sitting in Myra’s truck, scorching my skin where his gaze touched it. “Is that right?”
I glared. “You don’t believe me?”
“Yes…and no. I saw who you were before you fell in love with your archangel. You have more than enough to survive without him. That is where he and I differ. He thought you weren’t whole when he saved you. I think you are.”
He blew out a mouthful of smoke and it wreathed his dark hair like dirty grey thorns. “But I also think you have set yourself on a self-destructive path by being without him and without the angels at your side.”
“Pretty sure that’s still none of your business.”
“You,” he said slowly, revealing that he’d won the hand. “…are always my business, Jordan Amador.”
He extinguished the cigarette on a nearby ashtray. “Now then, what shall it be? The shirt or the pants?”
Belial smirked before continuing. “Or will you try your hardest to chicken out and wake up?”
I stared him straight in the eye and pulled off my t-shirt in one smooth motion.
Belial licked his lips and exhaled. “Lovely.”
I sat forward in the chair, my elbows on the table, palm up as I reached for the cards. “My turn to deal, right?”
I wasn’t terribly busty. I barely filled a B-cup, but Belial’s eyes were all for my minimal cleavage as he handed me the deck. It wasn’t even my turn to deal. Men.
“Last hand,” I said. “Winner-take-all. You in, archdemon? Or would you rather chicken out and wake up?”
Belial chuckled. I really wish I’d been wearing a shirt, because it got a reaction out of me that it shouldn’t have. Damn sexy voice. “Deal the cards, Seer.”
I hadn’t played a ton of poker in my lifetime, but I’d played enough to be able to build a decent hand and know when to fold. This wasn’t the time to fold. I wasn’t about to lose to this son of a bitch. Not tonight.
The time finally came. We didn’t break gazes as we set the cards on the table. I had four of a kind.
And the son of a bitch had a royal flush.
Belial’s lips curled up in a victorious smile. “It’s as you said, my pet. Winner-take-all.”
I went for the knife. Belial grabbed the single bulb in the lamp above us and shattered it, swallowing the room in total darkness.
Shit.
I backed away from the table and strained to hear movement or footsteps, but predictably, there were none. My heart hammered wildly against my rib cage as I stayed perfectly still, trying my best to stay calm or I’d give away my position. Dammit. I couldn’t see anything. Maybe his lighter was still sitting on the table. Sure, it would give me away too, but I couldn’t stab something I couldn’t see.
Gently, I swept my fingertips across the table until I found his lighter. Count of three, Amador. Get a quick look and then attack.
Icy sweat trickled down my spine. Three. Two. One.
I flicked the lighter on. This half of the room was empty. Which could only mean—
Belial wrapped his long arms around my waist from behind and slid his mouth right up next to my ear. “Boo.”
Then he blew out the flame and I was in darkness again.
Ever tried to wrestle someone in the dark? It wasn’t easy. Also, it hurt. A lot.
Belial overpowered me in a handful of seconds, wrenching my arms behind my back and keeping them there with one hand on my wrists. The other he used to encircle my neck and keep me still against the wall of heat and muscle that was his bare chest. He didn’t try to make me drop the dagger; he had a violence kink a mile wide so it made sense in a twisted sort of way.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he clucked his tongue while I continued struggling. “Someone’s a sore loser.”
“This is a dream,” I hissed. “You could have cheated for all I know.”
“Mm, good girl,” he purred, nuzzling the nape of my neck. “Took you long enough to think of that. Too little too late, I’m afraid. I want my prize.”
“Go to hell.”
“I have a vacation home there, remember?”
“Shut up!” I hooked my ankle behind his right leg and jerked hard. We crashed to the ground in an unceremonious heap and I heard him choke sharply. Warmth and wetness slid down over my hand. Holy shit.
I scrambled for the lighter and flicked it on. Belial lay face down, his arms beneath him…and a pool of blood forming around his midsection. He’d fallen on my dagger.
“Uh,” I said, stunned. “I meant to do that?”
I chewed my bottom lip and glanced around. No exits. Was I just going to wake up now? Or did killing him trap me in here until morning? I had no idea how dreamscapes worked.
“Screw it,” I muttered as I knelt next to the bleeding archdemon. “Hey, you. Still alive? How do I get out of here—gah!”
Belial clamped a hand down on my forearm and rolled me underneath him with the mother of all shit-eating grins on his lips. The lighter clattered to the tiles nearby, still lit by the grace of God. “Made you look.”
“Made you look?” I sputtered. “I stabbed you.”
I jerked my chin down at the dagger currently sticking out of his lower abdomen. Dark beads of blood were still spilling out and dripping along the handle, then falling onto my bare stomach.
Belial followed my gaze and didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the sharp object currently impaling him. “Well, yes, technically, but you still fell for it. Literally, in fact.”
“Why don’t you let me go and I’ll do it properly this time?” I snarled.
Belial shuddered and leaned over me, digging the handle into my navel. “Oh, if only you would, my pet. Pain is but an aperitif to pleasure.”
“You have serious issues, demon.”
“So do you,” he whispered, his lids lowering over his pale hellfire eyes. “You like to play with fire as much as I do. You could have tried to wake up. You chose to stay. You chose to challenge me. Some part of you wanted this outcome. I wonder why that is.”
He dragged my arms up and crossed them, pinning my wrists with one hand, and with the other he reached down and pulled the dagger from his belly. I tensed as he raised the bloody blade up until the faint firelight spilled over it. “Or perhaps you should find out for yourself.”
He flipped the dagger so that the handle faced me and let go of one of my arms. I frowned up at him, confused, as he slid the dagger into my hand and then brought the blade up to his chest, just below his left pectoral.
“Kill me,” he whispered. “Here. Now.”
“This is a trick,” I said, my voice wobbly and uncertain.
“No tricks,” he murmured. “You said you would find me and kill me. Here you are, up close and personal. Nothing is easier than to slip that blade between my ribs. I won’t stop you.”
“You think I won’t do it?”
Belial smiled down at me, the fire dancing in his mad eyes. “I think you know that I’ve won. Either choice will give me exactly what I want.”
He spread his slippery, blood-soaked fingers out until they gripped my free hand and erased the remaining inches between us. His lips were soft. Hot. Careful. Exquisite.
I woke up just as I shoved the blade through his heart.
My breath returned to me in a great, gulping gasp, as if I’d been holding it throughout the last few seconds of the dream. Minor panic fluttered through me as I didn’t recognize the room I lay in. I grappled for the .38 Smith & Wesson I kept beneath my pillow before remembering I had slept over at Myra’s place. Everything came rushing back to me and I forced myself to let go of the gun and settled into the pillow for a few seconds. Calm down, Amador. Just a dream.
I shut my eyes and slowed my breathing.
I could still feel his lips on mine.
Dammit.
I threw the covers aside and padded over to the bathroom across from the bed. The guest room was small, but comfy, with baby blue walls and hardwood floors, decorated with only one dresser and a nightstand. The blinds were drawn, but it was light out, which meant I’d actually slept through the whole night in spite of the dream.
I splashed cold water on my face a few times and dried it with the washcloth, staring at myself in the mirror. Get it together, Amador.
One hot shower later, I went downstairs to find Myra. The den was to the left of the staircase and as I neared it, gentle music floated up to my ears. Bells, stringed instruments holding long notes, and the faintest gurgling water.
