Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to live that long.

Isaac let out a frightened yelp. Gina gasped and Raina came to her feet, but by then it was done. The dagger had flashed out, cutting the male’s wrist; then Mikhael flipped the weapon and thrust it back into the scabbard hidden beneath his coat. Holding a vial against the cut, he grasped Isaac’s forearm in a lock hold. The blood was drawn into the container by its vacuum pressure, saving Raina’s rug.

When he had about a tablespoon, he capped it. Gina, efficient sort that she was, had recovered enough to bring a napkin from the wet bar for Isaac’s arm. Smart girl, too, because she waited for Raina to motion her forward, her young, uncertain gaze fastened on Mikhael.

Mikhael held the vial up in front of Isaac’s deer-in-the-headlights expression as Gina blotted his wound. “Blood calls to itself. Now I don’t have to expend the energy hunting you.” He met the incubus’s resentful gaze. “You step one foot off her property, all bets are off, demon. Your ass is mine. And all your detachable parts, which is pretty much everything.”

“I bet you’re the first Lucifer calls when it’s time to tell bedtime stories to the kids.” Throwing an acid look at him, Raina pushed Isaac toward Gina. “Bed. Sleep. We regroup tomorrow. No dismembering tonight. Saul usually leaves the TV on, but he’ll be dead to the world, so find something warm and fuzzy to watch. Gina will show you the shower.” She glanced at the succubus, her lips quirking at Gina’s frank assessment of their guest. “And scrub you thoroughly. Just keep it down. It’s our only day of rest, and we have a busy week ahead.”

A completely bemused Isaac let himself be led from the room, but Mikhael noted the way he looked back at both of them. There was cunning in that gaze. Hatred. Fear. None of it boded well.

“He’s lying, you know.” They’d departed before he said it, but it didn’t matter if Isaac heard. He and Raina had both made it clear they didn’t trust the blond scavenger any farther than they could throw him. He indulged a vision of heaving Isaac with a moderate level of force against one

of Raina’s ancient oaks and hearing the satisfying crack of bone.

“About portions of it. He did take it for someone; that’s indisputable. Someone who scares him shitless. But he’s leaving key things out.” She sat back down on the couch, resuming her reclined position, her head propped on her forearm on the sofa back. Her hair cascaded down her shoulder, fanned out over her hip, a stray tendril over her breast. She looked like a Waterhouse painting, all soft on the edges, sensual, dreamlike. But her expression was pensive, shrewd. “The gatekeeper. What happened to her?”

“A gatekeeper’s killed by decapitation and immolation. She was headless, dumped in the fire pits. The salamanders that play there found her.”

The witch nodded. Her gaze drifted to the oil painting over the mantel. A woman, naked and collared, on her knees before a well-dressed man. A man who had kindness as well as command in his touch. There was a fire blazing in the picture, and it seemed Mikhael saw the fire flicker in his peripheral vision when he turned to look at her again.

“How do you make concentrated soul energy?”

The shadow in her face was fleeting, but it left him an unexpectedly strong impression of anguish. “With human children,” she said tonelessly. “Under the age of five. It’s the purest form. Our kind can live off it for quite a while, but we can’t cultivate it ourselves, because harvesting requires sexual arousal, completion. Which is possible with children even at that age, but even our ‘despicable’ kind has limits. Usually.”

He sat down on the sofa in front of her. He laid a hand on her thigh, just above her knee, fingers sliding over the gathered fabric of the skirt. It drew her attention, for certain, but his intent wasn’t seduction. He just had the desire to touch, and so he did. “Despicable is your word, Raina. Not mine. A Dark Guardian has no prejudices.”

“An equal-opportunity executioner. How liberated. Do you believe he killed the gatekeeper?”

“Do you?”

She shook her head. “He’s capable of killing, but not that kind. Not unless his own life is at stake.”

“Agreed. Whoever sent him to steal the item followed behind to clean up. I think Isaac got a glimpse of Tara, realized he was as good as dead. He ran, hid it, and then ran again. I tracked him to where it was hidden. What took it was old, and strong. A demon for certain, though not enough traces left to determine race. And so here we are.”

“She’ll track him to tie up loose ends.” Those shrewd eyes met his. “Will you protect him?”

“Protection requires trust, Raina. In order to guard someone’s back, you have to be able to turn your back on them.”

“So you’ll let her have him.”

“She’ll soon have bigger problems than Isaac.” Turning his knuckles over, he ran them a few inches down her leg, over her knee, in the folds of the skirt. Her eyes followed the motion. He sensed the heating of her skin, the interested stir of her body, but it was as she’d said. In her profession, the reaction of the body was of no more consequence than the growling of a stomach or dryness of a throat. Just because she felt hunger didn’t mean she’d permit herself a full meal.

He was an appetizer man himself. Sampling was far more intriguing than stuffing oneself to a logy state.

“When I catch her,” he added, “I’m going to skin her alive in front of him. He was more frightened of her than of me.”

She chuckled, humorless. “Male testosterone always rises to the occasion.”

He ignored that. “The demon is going to follow his trail here. So I’m staying here tonight.”

She shifted her head so she could meet his gaze. They sat on the couch facing each other, his hand on her leg, she not stopping him, her unreadable gaze noting everything. She was as close as a lover, but as far away as a shooting star. Though part succubus, what she radiated was more than the chemical temptation of her species. Perhaps it was the witch element, or the woman herself, but she was also remote, guarded as a queen’s diamond. It was a direct challenge to that male testosterone she’d mocked.

She sighed. “I think I prefer your earlier offer of incineration.”

“It won’t be such a hardship. You are a B and B, after all.”

“That’s our tax-reporting status. You know exactly what we are.”

“You have beds and a kitchen. Do you offer a breakfast, or should I go for McDonald’s? How did you know I like their coffee?”

“I’m very good at what I do.”

He raised his touch to her throat, just a passing caress. Her pulse fluttered; her heart rate increased. An interesting reaction, but not a deal cincher. She guarded her desires, because they were dark. She didn’t let them rule her.

Of course, he was very good at what he did, which meant he’d shatter that rule just to see the pleasurable consequences of those dark cravings. He knew how that lush ass would press against his groin, could imagine her generous breasts filling his hands, the nipples stabbing into his palms as she rubbed a slick sex against him. And begged.

“You have other services that can meet my needs.”

Her attention sharpened. “If you’re a paying customer. Do Dark Guardians carry a lot of cash?”

“You’ll be more interested in what I have to barter.”

“Doubtful, but I’m willing to listen.” She straightened, putting some distance between them, her thigh sliding away. “It will take one of our more experienced ladies to satisfy you. They don’t come cheap.” A tight smile flirted on her lips. “Their orgasms are extra, because experiencing a succubus climax is euphoric.”

“Hmm. How about a half succubus?”

She blinked once with those thick lashes. “I’m not taking new clients.”

“I’m not suggesting it as a client. I can offer you something no one else can.”

Raina laughed and rose. When she tossed back her hair with a practiced sweep, he saw the experienced courtesan. One with a jaded under layer, the first sign of ugliness he’d detected. He’d roused something deep, something cold, hard. “I’ve never heard that line before,” she scoffed.

The cynicism bugged him enough he went for the kill, instead of more games. “When was the last time you unleashed your demon side during sex, Raina?”

She protected the human clients from the fallout from her own staff, but he was certain she couldn’t do it for herself. No one’s control was good enough to hold the reins on that craving during their own full-on orgasm.

At her startled look, he locked gazes with her. “As a Dark Guardian, you can unleash that side with me. No restraints…except the ones I put on you myself.”

SHE HADN’T SEEN THAT ONE COMING. HAVING TO QUELL her demon side during sex was like a vampire depriving herself of human blood while it pumped in a fresh fountain within biting distance. It could drive her mad, which was why she took few clients, and those who wanted her to have an orgasm…Well, while she enjoyed all her clients, the pleasure she showed stopped short of that, even if they believed otherwise.

It wasn’t as awful as it sounded. She fed the succubus side by taking small portions of the sexual energy that nourished the other residents in the house, catching stray bits. It made her like a dog eating scraps under the table, but it worked. With her self-discipline and that occasional meal, it kept the libido in check, her faculties balanced. She pleasured herself, under controlled circumstances. The joy of electronics. If the orgasm was too strong, she zapped the house’s old circuitry, but Li would kindly trip the breakers for her.

Yes, it wasn’t ideal. And seeing something like Mikhael close-up, feeling his hand on her thigh like a trail of fire that led right between her legs, could stir it all up, but she knew how to control it.

He wasn’t done uncovering her secrets, however. “I’d also ask how long it’s been since you’ve unleashed your true nature, your true desires…separate from your succubus side.” Those dark eyes swept over her. “But I already know the answer to that one.”