Demons Prefer Blondes (Demons Unleashed #1)(26)

Only six hours into her stint as a succubus and she was already overwhelmed. Just what everyone needed—a sex demon near mental breakdown! With a deep sigh, she pulled her coat tightly against her body.

“Kalli will help you,” Rafe whispered in her ear as he pulled her closer to him. Shivers of excitement ripped down her spine. She might be a succubus, but she hungered for one six-foot-four of pure demon muscle. None of these puny men following her had anything on him.

As if sensing her excitement, Rafe pulled away. What the hell? She knew he enjoyed that kiss. Mr. Happy Pants had shown her that earlier. Now he was cold, distant, and utterly aloof. Maybe it was because she forgot to shower and put on deodorant before they left.

Stupid, stupid, arrogant man.

She shifted her gaze to her shop. The early morning sun reflected against the windows. Her eyes burned. She tried shielding them with her arm, but nothing helped. “That’s bright.” Add the white fluffy snow to the mix, and it was a migraine waiting to happen.

“Your new eyes need to adjust.” Rafe, ever the gentleman, thrust a pair of sunglasses in her hand. “You’ll need to wear these most of the day.”

With a huff, she pushed the glasses on. “How do I explain the shades, smarty-pants?”

Serah trudged up from behind. “You got shit-faced and your eyes are all red.”

“If only that were the truth.” She turned to face Serah. Despite the beating she almost gave her last night, not a hair on her pretty little head was injured.

Serah’s mouth gaped open. “Prada! He got you to wear Prada? Dang, Rafe. You’re good.”

Lucy narrowed a glare at her friend. “I can be a fashionista—when I want to.”

“You look stylin’.” Serah smiled. “You should do it more often.”

“Sit and spin,” Lucy said, flipping the bird.

Serah grinned. “You’ll hate yourself in fifty years when arthritis sets in.”

“Cool, then my finger will be ready to salute you when we’re old and in our rocking chairs.”

Rafe shook his head as he pulled the door open to the shop. “I have business on the other side. I trust Kalli to keep you safe.”

Peering into the shop, Lucy’s breath caught. The shampoo bowls shined brighter than they ever had since she bought them. The floor sparkled. The tiles were so clean she could’ve eaten off them if she wanted. Every fixture in the shop seemed to glow.

“Rafe? Is that you?” The voice, low and sultry, sent a bolt of jealousy streaking through her. Dang, she had it bad for this man.

Emerging from the back office, she smiled. Her dreadlocks hung around her face in myriad reds, purples, and blues. A silver ring jutted from her lower lip and more dotted her eyebrows. Her ears were concealed by the mop that topped her head, but it was safe to assume they were equally decorated. She flung her rainbow hair to the side, revealing a tight purple and black lace bodice.

Her cups ran over—big time. Her black leather miniskirt gave way to ripped fishnets and huge honking-heel buckled combat boots. Not to be outdone, beautiful vines of ivy and flowers snaked up her arm and down her chest to hide beneath her bodice. Lucy wasn’t one to get ink, but she did admire the art. This was some of the most beautiful inkwork she’d ever seen. No wonder Frankie and Gerardo flipped a lid.

“Enjoying the view?” Kalli asked with a cute chuckle. For all her dark facade, her smile radiated friendliness. She took Lucy’s hand in hers and shook. “You must be Lucia. Nice to meet you.”

“Thanks,” was all she could mutter. “My shop looks great. Where are Frankie and Gerardo?”

Goth girl beamed. “It was nothing. A lot easier to fix than most Rafe’s other messes.” She flashed him a wicked smile.

Rafe crossed his arms and snorted. “I didn’t do this.”

“True, but why did I find demon blood out there on the street? Old blood too.” Kalli wrinkled her nose and clucked her tongue. “I could smell it for miles.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, clearly irritated by her interrogation. “Lamia ambushed me before I could intercept the chest.”

“Lamia? What’s she doing here?” Kalli muttered something in a language Lucy didn’t recognize. Greek maybe? “For God’s sake, why didn’t you say anything?”

Rafe clenched his fists into tight balls, his jaw throbbing harder. “It was late and my only concern was…” His voice drifted as his gaze drew Lucy in. “…the chest.”

The chest? What about this “I’m here to protect you” baloney he rattled off earlier? She should’ve known. He was a man after all.

Lucy’s heart sunk and a lump formed in her throat. “Your precious chest is fine, Rafe. You can go back to Hell now.”

“Smooth move, ex-lax.” Kalli shook her head. “Still the same. You’ve got a real way with words, Rafe.”

Rafe narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “I can’t bring the chest back until the loosed demons are rounded up, and we can’t do that without Lucy.”

Hello! She was standing right there. Was she supposed to wave her hands to get attention while they verbally sparred? From their intense glares and gazes, that answer would be yes. No way would she let this be an A and B conversation, so she would C her way in—one way or the other. “So how do I get the demons back in?” Obviously not with chocolate, that would be too easy. If only she had an easy button. Damn those TV commercials for making things look so simple.