Playing with Fire

‘‘So the lore goes, but do you seriously doubt you could escape Magoth’s wrath?’’

‘‘Er…’’ She thought about it for a moment, her lips thi

‘‘I didn’t think so. No, dear twin, this little box is not going to Magoth… and we’re not going to sell it. There’s nothing else for it-I’m just going to have to return it to the mage.’’

‘‘It seems such a pity,’’ she said, pulling into the underground parking lot that sat beneath our modest hotel. ‘‘Maybe he won’t know it’s gone. I think you should just hold on to it for a bit and see if he even notices that you have it.’’

‘‘Did you give up morals along with your common sense?’’ I asked.

Cyrene parked the car, turning to me with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. ‘‘My morals are just fine, and you can stop making that face at me. I just think we should talk this over a bit. It’s invisible, so maybe the mage has forgotten about it.’’

I leaned forward until I could peer directly into her blue eyes. ‘‘Priceless, Cyrene. Literally… priceless.’’

Avarice lit her face for a moment.

‘‘Even if I was the sort of person to steal something for myself-and I’ll reiterate the fact that I’m not, since you seem to conveniently forget that whenever temptation raises its head-there’s no way I’d keep this. It’s just too valuable. That mage is going to move heaven and earth to get it back, and frankly, I could do without having anyone else after my head.’’

She sighed and got out of the car. ‘‘You take life too seriously. We definitely need to work on getting you a sense of humor, not to mention a sense of fun!’’

‘‘There is little time for fun when you have my job. And speaking of that, I wonder what the mage will do since his people heard my name,’’ I said, slowly getting out of the car. My skin was hot and tight at spots where dried blood pulled at it. The cuts I’d received going through the glass were mostly healed, but I still looked like hell.

She spun around, her hand at her mouth. ‘‘Oh, May! I’m sorry! I didn’t think of that-do you think they’ll co

I let the corner of one side of my mouth curl into a rueful smile. ‘‘I don’t see how they can. They didn’t get a good look at me, and they think it was Mei Ling, infamous international cat burglar, and not a simple doppelganger from California.’’

She grimaced. ‘‘Me and my big mouth.’’

‘‘Oh, it’s not that bad-it means less attention on me if everyone is looking for an Asian woman. Ugh. I can’t go into the hotel like this. I’ll shadow walk to my room. Will you be OK?’’

She’d had a century to practice the long-suffering look she bestowed upon me, but my lips twitched at it nonetheless. ‘‘I’m not inept, May! I am perfectly capable of entering a hotel and making my way to my room without encountering any assassins, thugs, anarchists, or muggers, thank you.’’

‘‘Sorry,’’ I said, contritely.

‘‘Honestly! You treat me like I’m the child and you’re the parent, when it’s the other way round. I’m almost twelve hundred years old, you know! Just because I need a little help now and again doesn’t mean I can’t do anything without you…’’

She marched off to the elevator with an indignant twitch of her shoulders. I followed more slowly, avoiding the overhead lights and taking the less-used stairs as a question danced elusively in my mind.

How on earth was I going to get the quintessence back to the mage without being caught?

Chapter Two

‘‘Good morning. Is Magoth in?’’

‘‘Yes.’’ The female demon looked up from its laptop, using a wicked-looking stiletto to poke a strand of errant blond hair back into an otherwise tidy French twist, all the while eyeing me with obvious disdain. ‘‘You’re not a demon.’’

‘‘Er… no, I’m not. I’m a doppelganger. I don’t believe we’ve met-I’m May Northcott.’’

‘‘Sobe,’’ the demon answered, its mouth set in a prim line. ‘‘I’ve never seen a doppelganger. You are a dark being?’’

‘‘Not really, no. I’m a twin, the shadow image of a normal person. Well, not a mortal-she’s a naiad.’’

‘‘A twin?’’ Sobe’s expression turned even more sour. ‘‘How does this happen?’’

‘‘Oh, you know, the usual way,’’ I said, trying to be bright and perky. It never worked-I just wasn’t a bright and perky sort of person. ‘‘Someone decides they want an exact copy of themselves, they invoke a demon lord, sacrifice one of their character traits, and poof! A doppelganger appears, after which there is usually much merrymaking and quite possibly an orgy.’’

Sobe just looked at me, its lips pursed now. I made a mental note that attempts at humor were wasted on demons.

‘‘I see. What are you doing here if you’re a naiad’s twin?’’

‘‘It’s a long story, and one that would probably bore you to tears,’’ I said, not wanting to get into my history with a strange demon. ‘‘Let’s just leave it at the fact that I do some work for Magoth now and again. How is he today?’’

‘‘The master? He laughed. Twice.’’

I flinched.

Sobe nodded, tapping a couple of keys on the computer with long, rose-tipped fingers. ‘‘You don’t have an appointment, doppelganger. If you work for him, you must know how he gets when his servants approach him without an appointment.’’

‘‘I’m expected,’’ I answered airily, trying to quell the bile that inevitably rose within my gut whenever I was summoned before Magoth. He might be the lowest of all the demon lords, but my meetings with him were fraught with… well, dread.

‘‘It’s your life,’’ Sobe answered with a shrug, returning its attention to the laptop. ‘‘What’s left of it.’’

I squared my shoulders, gathering up my strength before I knocked gently on the door that led into a large office. Magoth on the best of days wasn’t easy to deal with… A happy Magoth boded ill for everyone.

‘‘Entrez!’’

A little shiver ran down my spine as I opened the door. Low, smoky music drifted out of invisible speakers as I negotiated the candlelit narrow hallway that opened into Magoth’s living quarters, which he used as his office.

‘‘Ah, May, what a delight to see you again. You look as delicious as ever.’’ Magoth shimmered into view, dressed in a dark blue shirt open three-quarters of the way down his chest, tight black leather pants, and a bullwhip wrapped around his waist.

I cocked an eyebrow at the sight of the whip. ‘‘Been watching Indiana Jones movies again?’’

His smile was blatantly sexual, right down to the devilish twinkle in his black eyes. ‘‘Just indulging myself in a few fantasies. Speaking of which…’’ He threw himself down onto a white leather couch, patting the seat. ‘‘Come sit with Papa.’’

‘‘Are we ever going to be able to do this without sexual harassment?’’ I asked, primly seating myself on a chair as far away from him as I could get.

‘‘Sweetness,’’ he cooed, rolling over onto his back and giving me a playful look. ‘‘Come. And I do mean that literally.’’

I thi

‘‘Hey, little girl.’’ He unbuttoned the last few buttons on his shirt and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. ‘‘Can I interest you in a piece of candy?’’

I lifted my chin.

His fingers drifted down to his waistband as he pouted slightly. ‘‘I’m going to think my little loveykins is mad unless she gives her daddy some sugar.’’

‘‘Oh, for mercy’s sake… Magoth!’’ I said, exasperated.

He sighed and propped himself up, his shirt gaping open in a way that allowed me to see his entire masculine chest. As a demon lord, Magoth had the ability to don whatever form he chose, but oddly enough, the one he had used ever since I had been bound to him was his true form-that of a black-haired, black-eyed, incredibly handsome man who unabashedly oozed sexuality. ‘‘If I didn’t know better, my dear, I’d swear you had no soul. What can a little wicked indulgence hurt?’’