“Nothing.” Blade strode over to the bar and poured a shot of whiskey. The good shit from a demon-run distillery that produced spirits formulated to give Seminus demons a good buzz. Regular alcohol didn’t usually affect them at all.
“Bullshit. You don’t blast music and get all moody for no reason.” This had family trouble written all over it. Mace got that. He had a dickhead of a brother, too, but the animosity between them was nothing even close to what Blade had going on with Stryke. “What did Stryke do now?”
Stryke had been estranged from the family for years, but Blade’s relationship with him had been especially strained. Now, Stryke was back in their lives, and Blade was tolerating it about as well as a vampire tolerated holy water. Even his choice of alcohol was a statement. The whiskey was from one of the very few distilleries unaffiliated with Stryke’s StryTech empire.
“Fuck Stryke.” Blade threw back the shot of whiskey. His personal symbol, a sword broken in half, writhed angrily beneath his jaw as he swallowed. Heck, his entiredermoire, a paternal history of glyphs that ran down every Seminus demon’s right arm all the way to the fingers, seemed to thrash in irritation.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
The bathroom door swung open, and Masumi stepped out, wearing high-heeled combat boots, a naughty smile, and nothing else.
Mace stared, unable to drag his eyes away…but not because she was nude. He’d seen her naked a thousand times. Hell, she was naked more often than not. What struck him now was that Masumi, a succubus who usually sported lush black hair, deep-tan skin, and dark eyes, had assumed Scotty’s red hair, milky skin, and hazel-green eyes. She’d even gotten Scotty’s freckles right. Mace knew, because he’d memorized them. The ones on her left cheek that looked like Yoda were his favorite.
“Both of you tonight?” she asked, anticipation turning her low, sultry voice even huskier.
Blade gestured at the door with his shot glass. “Mace was just leaving.”
“Mace wasnotjust leaving.” He folded his arms stubbornly across his chest. He wasn’t going anywhere now that he knew what—orwho—was behind Blade’s shitty music and shittier attitude.
Masumi’s glossy red lips puckered in a sassy pout. “I see. Summon me when you’re ready, Blade.” An instant later, her body morphed into a stream of pearlescent liquid that arched high before pouring itself into the jade vase.
Mace never got tired of watching that. And he’d nevernotbe grateful to Stryke for freeing her from her cruel master. Now, they had to find a way to free her completely. Until then, though, their mutually beneficial arrangement kept her—and the males in the house—alive.
When you were a species of demon that would die without sex, agreements like that were game changers.
“So.” Mace turned back to Blade. “How long have you been fucking Masumi while she looks like Scotty?”
Blade’s cheeks went slapped-ass crimson. “She doesn’t look like Scotty.”
“You’ve always been a shitty liar.”
“What?” Blade shot back, temper jacked up at being called out. “You telling me she’s never worn red hair for you?”
“Sure, she has.” Masumi’s ability to sense her summoner’s moods allowed her to tailor her appearance to the situation every time. Last week, he’d needed a pick-me-up, and she’d given him a hot sci-fi fantasy by doing herself up as a green-skinned, short-haired Orion fromStar Trek.
Blade turned back to the alcohol. “Then shut the fuck up.”
As if. Shutting up wasn’t a trait Mace was known for. “Do you have a thing for her?” The question came out like a demand, but Blade didn’t seem to notice.
“For Masumi?” He set his empty shot glass on the counter and reached for the whiskey bottle again.
“Don’t play dumb.” Mace crossed the room, wishing that, for once in his life, he could let shit go instead of confronting it head-on. “I’m talking about Scotty, and you know it.”
“We made a pact, Mace.” Blade opened the bottle and started pouring.
“A pact only keeps us from sleeping with her.” Mace slapped his hand down on the table. “It doesn’t keep us from wanting her.”
“Doyouwant her?” Blade asked, his tone defensive, his pour paused.
Mace shifted uncomfortably. This wasn’t a topic he allowed himself to ponder. Sure, if they hadn’t made that pact, he’d have gotten Scotty into his bed years ago. But theyhadmade the pact, and his respect fortheir friendship kept him from so much as even thinking about being with Scotty. Hecouldn’tthink about it. Couldn’t picture her naked or fantasize about watching her come. If he ever allowed himself to do any of that, he wouldn’t stop. He’d want her with a fierceness that would destroy him and everyone around them. So, he ruthlessly suppressed all inappropriate thoughts.
“No,” he said, with as much honesty as he believed himself capable of. “Do you?”
Please say no.
“Hell, no. No way.” Blade practically threw the bottle onto the counter. “But Scotty—” He cursed and jammed his hand through his dark hair. “She’s making a mistake.”
“Because she wants to lose her virginity to some rando?” The very idea made Mace want to strangle someone. “I don’t see any way to stop her.”
