Except… what sort of non-illegal things were demons doing that required privacy?
Something that had Rosalind throwing caution to the wind as she shook the demon’s hand.
Satisfied, they swept around their desk and grabbed a portion of the curtain, giving her a smile that rivaled the sultry music that seemed to get louder. “Welcome, human, to Temptation. May you findexactlywhat you’re looking for.”
In that moment, she couldn’t name what it was she wanted besides finding Dav, but stepping inside?
For all the lists and theories Rosalind had prepared herself for, the inside of Temptation was not some underground bakery ring with secret recipes that could never fall into enemy hands. Demons were scattered around the inside—on couches and tables, platforms and stages.
Andcages.
Not an oven in sight.
No, Temptation was definitely not what she would have guessed.
It was a sex club.
Rosalind was standing in a demon sex club.
15
TEMPTATION
Davarox
Davarox was hunkered in a back booth, biding time before he'd need to go into the back. He knew his schedule, knew exactly the number of drinks he'd need to make this work, and knew precisely how much guilt he'd harbor for the rest of his lifetime over it all.
The wine was chilled—not his favorite, but the glass felt good in his hands. The buzz of one drink downed and another quick to be empty.
Sometimes he looked at the contrast of red liquid to his gray skin and wondered. Down here, that part of him didn't need to be concealed. To maintain anonymity, his horns and features were always different, but not his skin. Here, his lack of magic wasn't shameful.
The seductive voice of the day's entertainment floated around him. It was nice. Better than the last time he'd beenhere. He could almost lose himself in the vocals and the plucking bass accompanying them.
Dav was proven wrong when, between one chord and the next, he had the misfortune of looking across the room.
To find Rosalind.
Rosalind.
A human, no illusion, staring at him across the crowd as his world crashed around him.
For an eternity, Dav couldn't breathe. It was like all the air collected into a fist and punched him square in the chest. He was reeling, heart clamoring and fighting with his brain for the blood to keep him from passing out.
Neither were winning, which meant neither was Davarox.
Still, with the club starting to spin and his seat no longer steady, one thing was clear.
Rosalind's wide eyes and her first steps.
Toward him.
He only blinked once, maybe twice, and then she was standing there, outside his booth. Whispering something, maybe, but it didn't feel real. It felt fleeting, in one ear and out the other, without leaving an imprint on his mind.
This was his nightmare, ornewnightmare, he supposed, in between gasping breaths. Rosalind finding out his darkest secret instead of Lazerath. The woman who looked a little too closely at him, at the books, at the things he'd spent years keeping secret. She was always too close, and Dav had ignored every warning because he'd...
“Dav, baby.”
Two hands were on his face, pulling his attention back to the space around him. They were no longer in the atrium, and vaguely he took in the decor of one of the private rooms in back. He had no idea how or when he’d made it back here.
