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Authors: Nina Harper
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Underworld. There are all kinds who deserve my services and I wasn’t going to specialize too much. At least at Gehenna the music didn’t suck and the drinks were tasty.
At eleven the bar was full. I ordered my mojito and noticed that half the bar was drinking the same. Hmmm, I was going to have to discover the next cool drink before I became too pedestrian. I avoided the two young women in imitation Juicy Couture jeans who were eyeing the room like vultures. I saw them size up my dress, my bag, my shoes, and tried not to listen as one said something deprecating to the other out of sheer envy. Okay, they were maybe twenty-four or something, and most of the way to being drunk. And they should be grateful to me, really, because whoever I picked up this night would be one fewer toad for either of them. Not that they knew that, or would appreciate it if they did. But then, they were typical hipster wannabes, a little too cheap and a little too New Jersey.
I scanned the men in the room, knowing that anyone I chose to pass near and select would have no choice but to come home with me. Maybe the gentleman with the tribal tattoo down his arm—but I liked the art. Then he put on a pair of glasses and started reading the New Yorker. Too appealing in some ways. The glasses made him look kinder and more vulnerable.
On one of the red sofas in the back I noticed two beefy boys with buzz cuts who seemed to be holding a competition over which of them would get drunker faster. Definitely unappealing. I wandered closer and picked up the unmistakable scent of Axe. Prey indeed.
I felt the burning through my skin that meant pheromones and enchantment were pouring out of me. Okay, one of them would have it; oh yes, one of them would get exactly what he thought he wanted. What he felt he deserved and certainly had coming. I made my decision. Whichever one of them called me “baby” or “honey” or “darling” first, that one would not get to insult a woman again.
Maybe my job is to deliver souls to Satan, but I also adhere to a feminist agenda and She most definitely approves. She’s often said that I should consider myself a crusader, removing men who are potential hazards from the population. Which I could relish if only I didn’t have to bring them home and get naked with them.
“Hey, baby, I got what you’re looking for,” the one on the left said, sealing his doom.
I walked over to him, smiled, and ran a finger over the back of his hand. “I’ll just bet you do,” I purred. “Want to show me?”
“What about me?” the other wailed.
I shook my head. “Only one of you gets lucky,” I said, not defining what lucky would mean in their case. I turned back to the first one and raised one eyebrow. “Why don’t we go someplace more private?”
He got up like an automaton, though I don’t know if that’s the enchantment or how much he’d had to drink. Oh, no, I thought, I hope he isn’t so drunk that he can’t function. Or throws up in the taxi.
He managed to stagger to his feet and get his coat on, though he didn’t offer to hold mine. He lurched after me awkwardly as we made our way through the press to the door.
As we were leaving, I turned to make sure that he hadn’t fallen on the long trek from the bench to the door. Every man’s eyes were on me. I felt it. The mojo attracted them even if they weren’t close enough to be overwhelmed.
chapter
SEVEN
“Come on, lover.” I encouraged my prey to move toward the door. Since he was barely vertical this took some effort on my part. Fortunately, I am stronger than a human and could hold him up and steer him along.
Cabs were thick on the avenue near the bar, and I had no trouble hailing one that took us uptown. As I dragged my newly acquired candidate for damnation into my lobby, Vincent approached looking all natty in his uniform. “Do you need a hand?” he purred.
“No,” I told him. “No problem. Do this all the time.” Which was true, and
At eleven the bar was full. I ordered my mojito and noticed that half the bar was drinking the same. Hmmm, I was going to have to discover the next cool drink before I became too pedestrian. I avoided the two young women in imitation Juicy Couture jeans who were eyeing the room like vultures. I saw them size up my dress, my bag, my shoes, and tried not to listen as one said something deprecating to the other out of sheer envy. Okay, they were maybe twenty-four or something, and most of the way to being drunk. And they should be grateful to me, really, because whoever I picked up this night would be one fewer toad for either of them. Not that they knew that, or would appreciate it if they did. But then, they were typical hipster wannabes, a little too cheap and a little too New Jersey.
I scanned the men in the room, knowing that anyone I chose to pass near and select would have no choice but to come home with me. Maybe the gentleman with the tribal tattoo down his arm—but I liked the art. Then he put on a pair of glasses and started reading the New Yorker. Too appealing in some ways. The glasses made him look kinder and more vulnerable.
On one of the red sofas in the back I noticed two beefy boys with buzz cuts who seemed to be holding a competition over which of them would get drunker faster. Definitely unappealing. I wandered closer and picked up the unmistakable scent of Axe. Prey indeed.
I felt the burning through my skin that meant pheromones and enchantment were pouring out of me. Okay, one of them would have it; oh yes, one of them would get exactly what he thought he wanted. What he felt he deserved and certainly had coming. I made my decision. Whichever one of them called me “baby” or “honey” or “darling” first, that one would not get to insult a woman again.
Maybe my job is to deliver souls to Satan, but I also adhere to a feminist agenda and She most definitely approves. She’s often said that I should consider myself a crusader, removing men who are potential hazards from the population. Which I could relish if only I didn’t have to bring them home and get naked with them.
“Hey, baby, I got what you’re looking for,” the one on the left said, sealing his doom.
I walked over to him, smiled, and ran a finger over the back of his hand. “I’ll just bet you do,” I purred. “Want to show me?”
“What about me?” the other wailed.
I shook my head. “Only one of you gets lucky,” I said, not defining what lucky would mean in their case. I turned back to the first one and raised one eyebrow. “Why don’t we go someplace more private?”
He got up like an automaton, though I don’t know if that’s the enchantment or how much he’d had to drink. Oh, no, I thought, I hope he isn’t so drunk that he can’t function. Or throws up in the taxi.
He managed to stagger to his feet and get his coat on, though he didn’t offer to hold mine. He lurched after me awkwardly as we made our way through the press to the door.
As we were leaving, I turned to make sure that he hadn’t fallen on the long trek from the bench to the door. Every man’s eyes were on me. I felt it. The mojo attracted them even if they weren’t close enough to be overwhelmed.
chapter
SEVEN
“Come on, lover.” I encouraged my prey to move toward the door. Since he was barely vertical this took some effort on my part. Fortunately, I am stronger than a human and could hold him up and steer him along.
Cabs were thick on the avenue near the bar, and I had no trouble hailing one that took us uptown. As I dragged my newly acquired candidate for damnation into my lobby, Vincent approached looking all natty in his uniform. “Do you need a hand?” he purred.
“No,” I told him. “No problem. Do this all the time.” Which was true, and
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