No Broomsticks Allowed, page 4
“Well, I would say both, but I think the game would be a lot more interesting if my partner looked like you,” he said, uncrossing his arms and smiling back. “How about that table in the back corner?”
“Sure.” Azrael followed him over to the table, her heart thrumming, palms sweaty. When he stepped away to grab a pool stick, a server passed by, and she waved him down, ordering another drink to calm her nerves.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
“My name’s Corbin,” he said, returning to the table.
“Azrael,” she responded, taking in his spikey blond hair and brown eyes. Although he wasn’t as attractive as the man she’d been fantasizing about all week, he’d do.
The server came back with her drink, and they started playing pool. For the next twenty minutes, Azrael did her best to appear interested in his insistent chatter. From what Corbin told her, he was the best at any sport, knew everything about everything, and could lift more than all his friends.
Azrael ended up ordering another drink.
She beat Corbin at pool on the first round, but by the second, she was too drunk to focus. It was time they moved this party along to the point where sex would become involved. “Why don’t we go check out the band?”
He took her hand, and she followed him to the other side of the bar. There were more people than when she arrived, most packed together on the dance floor, grinding under blue strobe lights. As they passed by a row of tables, she glanced to the left and stopped mid-stride.
Sitting at a table with a gorgeous blonde was Lance.
They were both leaned over, looking at a sheet of paper. Corbin tugged on her hand, and she realized she was standing in the middle of the bar, gaping at Lance. She walked away quickly, her heart racing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his head and look in her direction. Whether or not he saw her, she didn’t know.
Who cares if he saw me? Him or his damn date.
At least that explained why he wasn’t interested in her. Not if his type was stunning, blonde, big bosomed models. She bit her cheek. So much for thinking he was a nice guy just pretending to be a petty ass.
Azrael walked faster, tugging her date to the dance floor. She pressed her body against Corbin and danced. A few groups around her were grinding against their dates. Corbin put his arm around her waist and steered her that way. A group let them in, and she bumped and grinded against half a dozen others.
Screw it. Why not?
Corbin ran one hand under her ass, pulling her close. Azrael no longer had to doubt his interest in her. It was obvious by the bulge in his pants. She closed her eyes and focused on the music, letting her body feel the rhythm. Someone touched her shoulder from behind, and she backed into them, grinding her hips against their torso.
“Azrael.”
Her eyes popped open. She recognized that voice and that tone of barely controlled irritation. She spun around. “Lance?”
He was looking down at her, his eyes flashing. She shrank under that gaze but then gained her confidence when Corbin whispered in her ear. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“No. He’s just my boss,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “He’s obviously confused about what the dance floor is for. Can I help you, Lance?”
He shut his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. When he opened them, his expression was much softer. “Actually, yes. It’s a work thing, and I hate to interrupt your…fun, but it came up suddenly and—”
The music changed into something faster, causing the crowd to move in. They shoved Corbin forward, knocking Azrael against Lance’s chest.
She could feel the heat radiating from him, could feel him pressed against her belly button. Images of him flashed through her mind. Taut muscles. Sweaty skin. The length of him buried deep inside of her. Heat colored her face. Why did this keep happening?
Lance pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Can we please go talk somewhere else?”
She nodded. Azrael turned to Corbin and said, “Sorry, I’ve got to see what he wants.”
Corbin brushed his lips against her neck and whispered, “Hurry back, sexy.”
Azrael shivered, but she wasn’t sure if it was from attraction or not. The instant she saw Lance, her desire for Corbin seemed to diminish. Lance was waiting for her at the edge of the dance floor, arms crossed over his chest. He nodded to the table he’d been sitting at with the blonde. Azrael followed him there and slid into a seat. “Where’d your date go?”
“Date?” he asked, mouth twitching into a grin.
“The blonde you were with,” she said, brushing at her dress, keeping her eyes downcast. It wasn’t a sin to notice someone else at a bar. It wasn’t like she’d been stalking him.
Lance chuckled. “Her? Oh, she wasn’t my date. More of a business associate, which brings me to the purpose of this conversation. I need to go out of town and won’t be back for a few days. I know it’s not your job, and it’s the weekend, but I need someone to pick up the checks in my drop box and drop them off at the bank Monday. Also, feed my cat.”
Not a date, she thought, biting her lip.
“Well?” he asked.
“Well, what?”
“Will you take care of the checks and my cat? Of course, I’d pay you double-time for this.”
“Um, sure, that’s fine. You have a cat?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t seem the type.”
Lance smirked. “What animal do you think my ‘type’ would have?”
“I don’t know,” Azrael stammered. “A mean dog with big teeth.”
“I’m a little offended by your impression of me,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “Regardless, I would like to come back, and my cat still be alive. I can trust you with this, right?”
“Now I’m the one who’s offended.”
“Well, it’s not like you make the best of judgements,” he said, nodding his head toward the dance floor.
Azrael bristled. “What do you mean by that?”
Lance sighed. “Look, do we have to argue right now? I know we don’t get along all the time, but I was hoping we could be cordial to each other.”
“Well, it’s a rude thing to say to someone. You act like you have some right to judge me. What’s wrong with having fun? Do you even know what that is?”
“There’s nothing wrong with having fun,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “It’s the company you’re keeping. Most self-respecting women won’t have anything to do with a shapeshifter.”
“A shapeshifter? How the hell did you find out about that?” she asked, shaking her head. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. I was young and stupid back then. You can’t judge me because of that.”
Lance arched a sly brow. “I was talking about your date. Although now I’m thinking my statement was a correct assumption.”
“Corbin? He’s not a shapeshifter.”
“Follow me.” He stood and took long strides across the room, expecting her to follow. She sat at the table, balling up a straw wrapper between her thumb and finger as she debated blowing him off.
Damn him.
Azrael shoved her chair back and stomped over to Lance, who was slipping behind a curtained edge of the stage. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer. She followed him up some steps, staying in the shadows. Several feet to the right, the band played on. Lance motioned her to a dark corner. He opened a small section of the curtain.
“Do you see your date?” he whispered in her ear.
Struggling to concentrate on something other than his warm breath against her earlobe, she searched the crowd until she saw Corbin dancing with a group. “Yeah, he’s out there dancing. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Look at the band now, Azrael.”
She rolled her eyes but did as he instructed. The band looked like any other. A singer, guitarist, bass player….
Wait!
The bass player was the spitting image of Corbin. Same clothes and all. She turned and looked back out at the crowd. Her date was still there, dancing.
“Shit!”
Lance smirked at her. She pivoted on her heels and walked away.
Chapter 7
“I take it you didn’t know?” Lance yelled.
She gave him a dirty look. He was lucky there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face because she would have punched him. As far as she was concerned, this conversation was over.
Stupid ass thinks he knows everything. I’m over him, and I’m over Corbin. Hell, men in general.
Azrael walked up to the bar, balling her fist. The same bartender was there, so she held up two fingers. He slid her the drinks before Lance caught up. He grabbed one off the counter and downed it before she could stop him.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Saving you from a hangover. You realize you have a drinking problem, right?”
She took her shot, too irritated to notice the unpleasant taste, and swiveled around in her chair. “What I know is that I am a grown-ass adult who can make her own decisions. Also, I don’t remember offering to buy you a drink.”
Lance waved down the bartender. “Put her drinks on my tab.”
“In that case, two more, please,” Azrael yelled.
Lance cut his eyes at her but didn’t argue. To her surprise, he gave her a small smile and said, “I’d yell at you if that wasn’t such a smooth move.”
Azrael shrugged. “I never turn down a chance for free liquor.”
The bartender slid their drinks over, and Lance signaled for the bill. Azrael looked at the shot glasses. Two became four as her vision doubled. “I think these are both for you. I may have had a touch too many.”
“Finally, a good decision,” he teased, leaning over and taking the shots.
On any normal day, she would have played along, would have enjoyed the fact Lance was being playful, but not right now. She slid off the stool, placing a hand on the bar to steady herself. Right now, she needed to get out of this place. She grabbed Caleb’s check card. “Thanks for the drinks. Have fun on your trip.”
“Where are you going?” He set his glass down.
“I need some air,” she admitted.
He placed a hand on her lower back. “Let’s go then.”
The noise was suddenly too much for her. She let Lance lead her out. When they exited the bar, she closed her eyes and leaned against the brick wall outside, breathing in the cool night air. After a moment, when she felt steadier, she opened her eyes again. Lace was less than a foot away, staring at her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. It was just too stuffy and loud in there. Plus, I need to go home. Especially if I have to work tomorrow. Speaking of which, are you just going to slide the keys under my door or something?”
“How about we walk back, and I give you my spare set when we get there?”
Azrael stared down the sidewalk. They were at least four blocks from home. On one hand, there was a part of her excited about being alone with him. On the other, it was a long walk, and she was dangerously close to puking, which would embarrass the both of them.
“You didn’t drive, by any chance?” she asked.
“Yes, but neither one of us is sober enough to be behind the wheel.”
“You’re drunk?” she asked, squinting to get a closer look at his face. “You don’t look drunk.”
“Close enough that I shouldn’t drive,” Lance said as he began walking back to the apartment complex.
She pushed herself off the wall and followed. “So, that stern, grumpy expression is your permanent expression? I was thinking it was only meant for me.”
“No, but it is more common when you are around,” he said, grinning at her over his shoulder.
“Wow, I actually got a smile from you. You should drink more often.” Azrael rubbed her arms. Although it was warm when she left, the night brought with it a chill, and there was a damp mist hanging in the air.
“I have a jacket in my car if you want to walk back,” he said, nodding to her bare arms.
“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the offer, though.”
He nodded but scooted in several inches closer, his bare arms brushing hers. Heat radiated off his skin, giving her goosebumps, causing her to fantasize about him pressing her up against a building and sliding those arms around her. Thankfully, it was too dark for him to see the blush creeping up on her cheeks.
Stop thinking about it. Think about anything else.
“So, um, where are you from?”
“I’ve lived here for the last ten years or so,” he replied, not making eye contact with her.
Something in his tone suggested he didn’t want to further the conversation, which only made her more curious. “What about before that?”
“Um,” he said, his eyes darting toward the street. “Well, I lived in Montana for a short time before that, but I’m originally from Demonium.”
Azrael stopped short, her mouth popping open. She had the sense to close it before he turned around and saw her. “Demonium? You’re a demon? I had no idea. What class of demon are you?”
“A warlock,” he said, meeting her eyes. “But well removed. My family mixed with humans mostly, so I ended up with no power—hence, apartment manager.”
At least we have something in common.
“Don’t worry, having power comes with its own set of problems. I was born and raised here. My grandmother was a summoning witch, but it skipped a generation. I had to move to Demonium with her for a few years to learn how to control it because it was making things too hard on my family. You wouldn’t believe the number of times I was in the principal’s office because I accidentally summoned something. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if the portal to our world had never been discovered.”
“Hard to say, although, can you imagine the look on the guy’s face when he knocked down that wall in his basement? How do you handle that? Just go, ‘Oh, honey, look, a swirling vortex to another world,’” he said with a chuckle. “What I would have given to be a fly on that wall.”
Azrael giggled and quickened her pace to catch up. “According to some historians, he ran out screaming he’d found hell and his basement was full of demons. It’s rather unfortunate that name stuck, though.”
A loud group passed by them, and they had to split up to keep from being knocked down. For the next few minutes, they walked in silence. Azrael wondered why he always seemed so guarded. Her “screw me” outfit seemed to have no effect on him at all. Yet, there was something about the way he acted tonight that made her feel sexy.
“You said you summoned by accident? I thought summoning witches couldn’t summon without using drawings and spells,” he asked, cutting into her thoughts.
“For the most part, you’re right. The spell helps us focus, but in extreme situations, we can do it without them. Think of it like an adrenaline rush. People can’t normally lift cars, but with enough adrenaline, they might be able to. It’s very rare, though, and usually turns out badly.”
“Bad as in how?” he asked, his blue eyes focused on hers.
Azrael struggled to concentrate. “Um, it’s hard to explain. You see, when I summon, I have to be focused on a purpose. Not just what I’m summoning, but the purpose of the summoning. Kind of like I did with Mrs. Mayer. Yes, I could have summoned a larger demon, but its purpose wouldn’t be aligned to her, and I would have to do an attachment spell. When that spell wears off, the chances of the demon staying around to protect her are small. Now, if I can find a creature whose random purpose is a match to the client’s, then it is much more successful. In some cases even, it’s not a specific type of demon that is the best match sometimes it’s just a demon whose purpose lies with the client. Still, a witch summoning blindly is like reaching into a box of sharp knives trying to find a fork.”
“Huh, I guess I can see that. Still, how can you tell if the purpose is right?”
Azrael chuckled. “That is a lot harder to explain. Each summoning witch is different, but the strands are the same.”
“Strands?”
“Yes. When I summon, I’m in a black void filled with silvery strands. If I clear my mind, it’ll take me to the right strand, but I don’t usually know why. I can just feel it. Sort of like I’m carrying a magnet with me and purposes that don’t align repel, where those that do snap together, just like two magnets would,” she said, slapping her hands together.
Lance didn’t comment. They were less than half a block from the apartment, and soon he would be gone for who knew how long. She had the feeling that by the time he got back, Lance would be right back to his distant attitude.
Make a move then. What’s the worst that could happen? Besides being fired or kicked out because he finds out about Smellicious.
Azrael sighed.
“Something wrong?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Okay, you know what, screw it. I’m just going to say it, and for once, please don’t be an ass.”
He raked his hands through his hair and glanced sideways. “Azrael, maybe it’s best if….”
The words trailed off. He seemed to struggle with how to finish the sentence. She got the sense he already knew what she was going to say, and it pissed her off.
“You know what? You’re right. Let’s not talk about it.” She spun on her heels, preparing to put as much room as she could between the two of them for the rest of the walk, but her heel was stuck in a rut on the sidewalk and didn’t move with the rest of her body. Azrael felt the heel snap off, but not before pain radiated up her calf.
“Dammit!” she yelled, tears pricking the corner of her eyes.
Putting all her pressure on the unhurt ankle, she tried to hop to the wall and nearly fell, but before she did, Lance grabbed her by the waist. “What happened?”
