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She sighed, not wanting to cause Ivan alarm. "I won't do it. And I don't wish to bring the fixer's wrath upon me. The very last thing I want in this world is to be within smelling distance of Ole Brimstone-Breath again. But I don't see a way around it."

"Forget about my soul. I wouldn't want to contaminate it with my work anyway."

"What about the Grande Grimoire? We need it back so I can reverse the spell."

"Are you sure you can't remember it?"

"Ivan, it was so long ago. And it wasn't in words, remember? It was intonation and presence."

"Should be a lot easier to remember than a bunch of Latin mumbo-jumbo. Will you at least give it some thought? See if anything comes to you? What if you do a memory spell? Open your mind to the past?"

"I'd have to go backward through time. Relive so much."

"I wouldn't ask you to relive anything that makes you uncomfortable. Yet, what you've told me-can anything be worse?"

"No. I would put being tortured, put to the question, and almost drowned far below falling in love with Himself. Yes, that was the worst." She clutched his shirt. "I'll do it. For all of us." Another kiss rendered her blissful. And it was the finest undoing she could wish for. Not even the devil Himself could impart so masterful a kiss and still make her understand they were equals. No man would master Dez's heart. But Ivan could have her trust.

"I need to leave. Promise you won't do anything foolish?"

"I promise, but why do you need to leave?"

"The coercion."

"Then go. I'm going to do the memory spell. I may be out for a while. I'll have to throw up all the wards I can conjure to keep my house safe while I do, so don't be threatened if you're not able to enter."

"How long do you think it will take?"

"A day, maybe two."

"I'm heading off to the council. Preventive magic must be done to stop the mortal world from finding out our secrets. I'll be busy, too."

"Are you sure it's all okay between us?" she wondered. "It doesn't have to be, you know."

"It is." He kissed her forehead. "So long as we're always honest with one another, nothing can keep me from your arms."

"I love you. I'll call you if I learn anything."

He did not offer the admission to love, but Dez did not expect it. Yet her heart ached for it.

Chapter 22.

T he Gray Council had not been surprised to learn the Protection spell was in danger. And they didn't blame Dez for handing over the Grande Grimoire to Himself after Ivan honestly laid everything on the table. That he had fallen in love.

Love, the great forgiver. Everyone on the council had nodded, smiled a little and then got down to discussing tactics. They didn't fear Himself. The Great Tempter merely had plans to sit back and watch the two nations tear each other apart. All focus had to go to the war.

Nikolaus's team would summon recruits to push back the vampire forces against the witches, while the witches had to be cautioned of the imminent possibility of losing all power over vampires. Neither side would like it. But it seemed the only way to begin.

And so the council parted, each with directives and missions and headed to all corners of the world.

Ivan had his own mission. And this one would hurt.

There was no task for Ivan this evening. Obviously Himself expected him to haul in Dez and present her to him as if a roast upon a platter.

Not going to happen.

Not after everything he had seen in Dez's fix. She had not been innocent, but by the time she'd realized who had been seducing her, her heart had already surrendered.

That bastard would answer for his malicious pursuit of Dez.But Himself wasn't answering Ivan's call. No matter how much he thought of the Old Lad appearing before him, or imagined himself prostrating before the hideous black devil, no prince of darkness appeared.

"Ignoring me, the old bastard. Lucien Black? He never has been overly creative."

Briefly he wondered at how easily he'd accepted Dez's confession. His lover had once been Himself's-no, he was beyond that.

He would be beyond that. When finally he faced his master.

Ivan formed a plan to summon his deaf master. He clacked a few skulls together in the shipyard outside of Portland. The imps knew nothing about Himself's whereabouts.

Ivan could be sure Himself was aware of his summons, so he didn't waste too much time rousing further dark minions, because even if they had a clue, diabolic coercion could take that clue from their thoughts like mist creeping out from a graveyard.

He landed in New York City and took a cab to Brooklyn. Ivan knew the name of the bar, and the clientele were strictly nonmortal. She would be there. And she would lure Himself to Ivan.

Paying the cabbie, Ivan stepped toward the rusted iron door guarded by a hulking wraith with glowing eyes. The bouncer didn't ask for Ivan's credentials, and merely moved aside, holding open the door as Ivan walked through.

One good thing about working for Himself, he carried a sort of carte blanche pheromone that alerted others they'd better not mess with him.

One would expect dark and black and dismal for an immortal bar populated with vampires, werewolves, vixens, imps and other assorted creeps. But Crimson was entirely red, even the lighting. Red drinks were served by waitresses with plump red lips who wore barely-there strips of red leather and a dull sheen to their red-pupiled eyes.

Ivan had found a few of his jobs hiding out here. He didn't like the atmosphere. It smelled dank and of stale sex and evil.

Striding through the main room that glittered with fairy dust-yeah, the real stuff-Ivan spied a cheesily costumed maven toward the back of the room. Red vinyl devil horns capped a flow of ridiculously curly black hair. A red devil tail lured the eye up to the sweet ass barely concealed by more red vinyl.

She bent over a pool table-red felt, and yes, the balls were all red-and aced a combination bank shot. Tattoos crawling up her leg grew more defined as Ivan approached. A mermaid with scaled tail snaked across her thigh. The aquamarine mermaid's eyes followed Ivan's approach. And when he got close enough to touch, the tattooed mermaid screamed.

He gripped a hank of the woman's black curls and jerked her back. Scent of blood painted her lips. An inordinately long right fang slid over her lower lip, advertising she was a vampire.

"Bloody Mary," Ivan hissed at her ear.

She didn't struggle, and instead tossed the pool cue onto the table in surrender.

"Good girl. Let's talk over there, shall we?"

She gave a sexy "meow" as he pushed her away from the table. The hungry eyes of the weres and vampires who had been gathered around the sex-kitten vamp followed them away.

"What do you want, fixer?" she pouted, as they found a dark corner. "I'm in the mood for some sweet pain."

Ivan pushed her shoulder to the wall and leaned in. He didn't like smelling blood on other vampires. It was putrid to him. But he knew it turned on most other vampires. However, there was certainly nothing wrong with the body squeezed into the red vinyl and the full breasts pushed up high and crushed against his chest.Ivan shook his head to focus. He wasn't here for a trick. And any treats this gal had to offer would hurt.

"I may be the fixer," he said, "but you're his favorite. Thought you might come in handy, Bloody Mary."

He leaned in and licked up from her jaw to the pulsing miniature heart tattooed at her temple. She squirmed, but snaked her hands about his waist. The mermaid on her thigh purred, and Ivan thought he heard the sound of a tail swishing through water.

It didn't take long. And when Ivan's back hit the concrete wall and he felt his shadow crackle to life, he could but smile as he dripped down the wall. Rankled, but happy for it.

"What are you doing, boy?"

All around, the bar rustled with scrambling bodies, eager to flee the brimstone stench of Himself. Greatest temptation? Nah, Himself hadn't taken time to cloak himself this evening. Everyone saw exactly what Ivan saw.

And it was never pretty.

Bloody Mary curled up to Himself and kissed one of the black muscled pectorals that looked like burned flesh stretched over a corpse. "Master."

Himself sent her flying with a sweep of his hand. "Insolent.

"And you." The creature of darkness stomped over to Ivan, who now slid up the wall to stand firmly. "She's mine. You know that."

Affecting calmness, Ivan shrugged. "You've been ignoring me. I had to get your attention somehow."

He was aware he'd not knelt to give Himself the respect due. His shadow pulsed with stinging needles, attempting to coerce him to his knees. But Ivan maintained his stance, even while his shoulder blades cringed and every nerve in his jaw screamed.

"You have it." Himself glanced aside. Bloody Mary crawled along a wall. Her leg looked broken. She'd heal. "Speak your piece, fixer."

"Why don't you get your bride? You know her name. You know where she lives. This little game you're playing with me doesn't make sense. If it's the book you wanted, I don't understand how she plays into your ultimate goal."

Himself chuckled, low and from his gut. "Desideriel Rosaline Merovech, illegitimate daughter of the Merovingian king Dagobert III, is the one thing in this infernal realm of mortality I cannot touch. She has mastered spells of diabology against me. Repelling me is an art she has taken to extremes. I couldn't have snatched her out from her bedroom if I wanted."

"You. Powerless against a mere witch?"

A talon strafed Ivan's cheek. He felt it strike his teeth, so clean the cut.

Bloody Mary purred at the scent of blood and began to crawl along the base of the pool table toward them. The mermaid now splashed on her opposite thigh in a pool of red water.

"Better," Himself began, "to have the one man who loves her do it for me, wouldn't you say?"

Of course he would know Ivan's feelings toward Dez.

"Besides, it is the price you must pay for your soul."

"I don't need a soul," Ivan snapped. "It is not something you can dangle before me like diamonds or blood. I refuse to bring Dez to you."

Ivan's body slammed face-first against the wall. A slice of talon stripped open his suit and shirt to reveal his bare back. Icy prickles moved along the shadow. Himself breathed upon his flesh.

Bracing himself for insurmountable pain, Ivan waited. But the numbing red poison of Himself's shadow did not pierce deep. It did not pierce at all. Instead, something strange happened.

Held there by an invisible force, Ivan could but close his eyes and experience as an outline of warmth traced the design of his shadow. It prickled sweetly. It glowed. Spreading. Swelling. It was unlike anything he had ever known before.

Sunshine upon a womb, glistening in a newborn's eyes. Innocence unmarred by doubt, fear or devastation.

Exquisite bliss. A wondrous kiss of light and goodness.

Ivan let out a gasp. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt it. It was...it had to be- His soul.

And then blackness ripped away the light. Ivan collapsed against the wall, landing on his ass and clutching his hands across his shoulders.

"Bring it back," he moaned. "I want to feel it again!"

"That was just a taste," Himself growled. "Now. Go. Bring her to me, and you shall have back your soul."

Chapter 23.

T he clatter above in the attic didn't surprise Dez. She capped a bottle of peppermint oil she'd opened to reignite her exhausted senses, and tugged up her silk robe to avert a shiver of expectation.

Twenty-four hours had passed. She only completed the memory spell two hours earlier. To no avail. She needed to see the written Protection spell. Her mind simply would not put forth a vivid recollection.

That cautioned her, for perhaps there was a reason for such difficulty. She now struggled with whether it would really serve to end the war. But she pushed worries aside now that he was in her home.

It was as if he had entered her. Each step Ivan took down the creaky wood stairs heightened her desire. Dez pressed both hands to the marble butcher block over which she concocted her perfumes. Peppermint stabbed at her senses, prickling up into her skull. A medley of wormwood and cardamom and anise swirled a heady mixture in the air.

A danceable tune played softly on the radio. Another means for Dez to rise up from the intense concentration of the spell and to insinuate herself back in the real world.

Ivan's arms fitted about her waist. Wide, firm hands crossed her belly and pressed her back against his body. Her derriere snugged his cock, hard and vital. Hot breath whispered at her nape. He trailed a tongue-dashing kiss down the column of her neck.

His hand slid inside her robe and the heat of his palm seared an indelible burn up her torso. He cupped her breast, squeezed the nipple. His moan pleased her.

"Cloves?" he murmured at her ear. A nip followed. And a zip. He released his pants and shoved aside her robe.

"Cardamom," she corrected. "Sharply sweet." Sliding forward across the marble table on her arms, Dez spread her legs for her lover. First he slipped an exploring finger inside her. He knew exactly where to go, there, at her clit, which was swollen and wanting.

"Peppermint," he moaned. One of his hands slapped onto the marble to steady himself. "It clears my head."

Dez reached around and captured his cock. "Sex and the scents surrounding us. What a heady blend."

He followed her direction, and slid up inside her, pressing her body forward. Her breasts crushed against the cold marble. They captured the rhythm of the music. He seized her hips and began to plunge deeply. Endlessly. Effortlessly.

"Must have you," he cried. "All of you. Ever after."

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